༶•┈ 𝐇𝐈𝐌 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 ┈•༶
┊͙ˏˋ 𝐜𝐡. ❷ ࿐ྂ
-͙
"Your leg bones snapped in the accident. The bone fragments on each side of the break were not aligned, what you suffered from is called a displaced fracture. We needed to do surgery on you immediately to realign the bones properly."
My eyes flutter open when a recognizable voice, the doctor's voice, rings in my ear, causing me to wake up from my slumber. I rub my eyelids and try to recall the last thing I did, then a vivid memory of my fingers flipping through pages of the 'The Notebook' pops up in my head.
The heavy medication had put me under a deep snooze. It has a bigger effect on my body and mind now compared to how it did a month or two ago. I can feel my body changing, becoming weaker and more fragile each day.
It's the beginning of the end.
I notice that shadows of figures are implicated on the curtains of the bed beside me. New patient. Eventually, the nurse pushes back the curtains that were closed for privacy once the conversation between the patient and doctor comes to an end.
"At the minimum, 6-8 weeks will be needed for you to heal," the doctor informs the patient.
Silence. "Thank you, Doctor Choi."
The voice, deep, breathy, and hoarse, yet it resonates in my ears like the sound of rippled water.
Out of curiosity, I glance over at the figure laying in the bed next to mine.
A young boy.
Light brown hair tussled over his forehead, slightly above his eyelids. His skin is pale and soft. He possesses low set brows, which means they sit very close to his eyes. His chin is smooth and the line from his ear to his chin is extremely short. He has taunt cheeks and thin lips. His bone structure is slightly angular and squarish but not sharp.
Additionally, cuts and wounds that formulated like leeches, due to the accident, are visible all over his body. My eyes divert to the prominent cut on his lip, the rashy graze on his left cheek, and no-longer-bloody wounds that surrounded the entirety of his arms.
A lump in my throat forms. The walls tighten around it and I can't seem to move my body. I swallow a mouthful of saliva, only for my throat to become drier than it already is. The sight of him all bruised up and in pain, anyone in pain, makes my heart ache.
Car accident. I close my eyes and try to push away the unpleasant, traumatic memories that started to formulate in my head. The vivid, flashy images of my parents pop up, it's the same setting. The park, them waving and smiling.
My nails dig into the skin of my palm as I ball up my fists. I bite down on my bottom lip, in order to prevent tears from welling up in my eyes. My lip starts to bleed as a result of it.
Then, the flashy lights begin to simmer down, the childhood memories and laughters become less clear and foggy, eventually all of it disappears. And then there is nothing.
I unclench my fists and open my eyes. A heavy sigh leaves my body. I plop my head back onto the pillow and turn on my side, laying in the direction that faces the sleeping boy.
My eyes stay on him for a little while. I examine the features of his face and body, noticing the way his hair falls onto his forehead, the largeness of his hands and feet, the smoothness of his skin, and the moisture that built up on his lips.
Soon enough I feel my own consciousness ebbing away, and my thoughts, as clear and concise as they were mere moments ago, were coming to an end. My eyes grow heavy from the strenuous effects of excessive agitation of the brain. My vision begins to fog up.
"Sleep well..." I mumble in a low voice.
I have already decided to give myself away to my pursuer, to exhaustion, to be dead to the world before the rest of me goes into another deep slumber.
⠀
