Scar Tissue [2Doc]

//11//

"...Everybody knows when I was sad I fell for you..."

"...Everywhere I go I don't know where I am..."

"I'm stressing out..."

"I'm stressing out..."

"I'm stressing out..."

"I'm stressing out..." 

...

Fuck, I feel so itchy. It feels like bugs are crawling on and under my skin. I swat a heavy hand across to my other arm to stop the sensation, but it doesn't stop.

Fuck, what is this?

I begin to peel my heavy eyelids open. I feel my pulse pumping in my eyes. With each pump, the veins in my eyes throb and burn. I stare up at a white ceiling that looks more like a vehicle roof. I can't exactly make it out though. I can't open my eyes all the way. 

Why do I feel so uneasy?

I feel sick. 

I suddenly feel pressure on one of my hands. The squeezing sensation seems familiar. I can't move my head to see who might be holding my hand. I feel so incredibly weak.

I feel sick.

A head soon appears over me, dark strands of hair slightly falling against my face.

It looks like Noodle. I cant tell though. Their mouth is moving, but I don't hear anything. Is this a dream? A second person soon peers over me, but they're unfamiliar.

I feel sick.

I feel a hand on my chest, I assume it's the unfamiliar person's. They speak as well, yet again, I hear nothing. 

I don't like this. I feel suffocated by these people. I feel overwhelmed. I feel sick,, so fucking sick. My stomach won't stop churning, and it feels hot under my bangs. 

I blink. And blink. And blink.

This must be a dream. I should go back to sleep.

////

"He-He's waking up! Look his eyes are open!"

"Ma'am, please be careful not to apply too much pressure onto to his hand. Loosen your grip please. Mr. Pot? Can you hear us?"

"2D?? Pleassse say something!"

"..."

"He's awake, but he's unresponsive. That isn't very good. We'll conduct a full evaluation once we arrive at the hospital. Please sit back down ma'am, it's not safe for passengers to be standing in a moving ambulance."

"His eyes closed again! Oh goosh no..."

"Don't worry, we're monitoring his heart rate. If it drops past the normal rate we'll use the defibrillator again." 

////

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking CUNT!!" I throw the beer bottle I had in hand to the floor and run my hand through my hair in stress. The bartender scolds me and warns me that I'll be thrown out If I get any more violent. 

I stare at him through my sunken eyes for a couple seconds in disdain before I put my hands up as a peace offering. A let out a long sign and order a stronger drink. 

Holy shit 2D. There's no way... There's no way this is happening right now. I don't know if I'm angrier at 2D for doing something so fucking stupid, or at Noodle who wouldn't let me ride along on the ambulance to the hospital with them. 

Not even me... Not even I would do hard drugs like heroin, so why? Why would he do this? Is it my fault? Was I truly his torment throughout all these years? Was I the root of his depression? Would this had happened if I didn't call him up the other night??