Touched

One, Excruciating

'how poetic to endure a pain that'll never leave my lips'

EVELYN

I practically know the layout of this hospital like it is imprinted on the back of my hand, no one that doesn't have some variation of a terminal illness should spend as much time in the ER as I do. At this point I consider the regular visits to be somewhat of a vacation from my life but having the doctors and nurses' able to identify me by my injuries is only slightly embarrassing.

I thought at one stage that they might hold me at the hospital for a wellbeing check, having frequent concussions when you don't play a sport is a little concerning. I wouldn't even blame them if they did call one, I know how it looks and without knowing the reality of my home situation, abuse or being suicidal are sadly they first thing our minds jump too.

I can't blame them, if I wasn't me then I think that too. Unfortunately for everyone involved, I am me.

I try to limit the amount I go out; it is a feeble attempt at limiting my incidents of unconsciousness', I mean honestly, how can someone be as clumsy as me and still have a job. I have always drawn it down to two things, either I really do have an amazing boss who I have managed to create a bond with beyond just being his employee. Or the more likely answer that is he really just feels so fucking bad for me and normally I would detest that, but I am so grateful.

It always starts and ends the same way, I work at a bar, an unfortunate side effect of that fact is that creeps are a constant obstacle, most are just drunk and flirty but then there are the other ones. Those guys really do think the sun shines out of their ass, and they can get overconfident, crowding in on my space and demanding things I don't want to give.

I get... panicked. It doesn't matter how many times it happens, the worry and need to escape is nearly overwhelming on my senses. Sometimes it feels as if they are crawling all over me, trying to dig into my brain, the doctors think the reaction I have is one of an anxiety attack. A subsequent reaction that my brain and body are having due to the amount of times I have found myself in a threatening situation that I feel trapped in.

And then, with my body and mind overwhelmed with panic I manage to fall every single time and when I fall, well everyone comes for me, but it is always too late, and I am gone with the wind.

Pretty sure my entire team talks shit about me behind my back and I would too, it's embarrassing and who manages what I do on a monthly basis. Sometimes I think the hospital should just never let me leave, or at least wrap me in bubble wrap to stop the side effects of my many instances of brain trauma to worsen.

"Mon?" I call, shoving our apartment door open with my hip. Hands full with my work bag, some groceries that we really can't afford and my clothes from the hospital.

All the lights are off and I sigh into the silent living room, she said she would try and get off early to come and check on me, not that we can afford her skipping out on work. I appreciated the sentiment though, I am thankful that her attempt seems to have been blocked by her boss, when this happens as much as if does, I have begun to feel guilty about having to be monitored so often.

Locking our door behind me, I halt a few steps away from it as a loud bang echoes down the hall. This isn't the safest neighbourhood, so things like that aren't out of the ordinary, but the noise still makes me flinch and press my hand against my still throbbing temple. It always makes me feel cold, the aftermath of these instances.

The sky outside my window is dark with the beginning of nightfall, and a mark of it almost being twenty-four hours since I was admitted to the hospital. The constant monitoring and beeping of machine has always been a cause of restlessness for me, so now that I am away from that and enveloped in at least a modicum of silence I am desperate to sleep.