CreepyPastas!

Bath Time

Bath time

"Skreeeeeee!" My brakes squealed as they slid along the slick road. The rain had turned the roads into a slip n' slide from hell. My high beams illuminated the bridge's wall and before I even realized what had happened, my car crashed through and over the guardrail.

Airborne, I didn't even scream. What could I do? Nothing. Just sat there as time slowed and the murky, black abyss of the Hornsdale river danced beneath my falling headlights. The impact shook me in my seat, but at least I was alive. Unfortunately I was also conscious. As the water began to rise and my car sank, I realized just how awful a death this would be.

As I stared out the window, looking at the full moon for the very last time, I realized just how avoidable this could have been. I had been stupid. Driving far over the speed limit. Reckless. Thoughtless. The water was already halfway up my window. It pooled around my ankles. I kept staring. I thought about her. I wanted that to be my last memory. I wanted to be thinking of her, before we were reunited..

No. Not yet.

I began pounding on the window, it cracked but stood firm. I kept pounding until blood splashed against the cracked glass. Still I went until finally, thankfully, it gave way. Water flooded in as I clambered my way through the broken glass. I swam from the wreck, quickly, and didn't look back until I reached the river's shore. In the distance, sirens broke the steady stream of falling rain.

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"Doctor, please, I'm beggin ya."

"I'm sorry Gerry but it just doesn't make sense."

Doctor Anderson stood opposite me, leaning against a white wash wall in the small confines of this sterile hospital room.

He was an older guy, early sixties or so, with hair that matched the walls to a T. He had been my doctor for close to a decade now and we knew each other quite well. I myself sat on one of those awkward benches they always put you on. The kind with the crinkling paper under your ass. You could just never get even mildly comfortable on those things.

"Your accident was over a month ago. The EMTs checked you out, even brought you to the hospital for a full evaluation, but miraculously, you escaped without a scratch. Aside from your hand of course, but that was self inflicted."

He sighed as I inspected my hand. It had healed pretty well. A couple faint scars marked my knuckles where the glass had sliced it open, but other than that it was perfectly fine now.

"Doc, these headaches are killing me. I've had to leave work twice this week because I couldn't bear it anymore. They wake me up in the middle of the night and leave me in complete agony."

"I just don't know what to tell you Gerry. You don't show any signs of a concussion, internal bleeding, or anything that would be associated with such horrible headaches. Considering you have no history of migraines or anything of the sort, I'm just as confused as you are."

My head fell in dismay, I wasn't lying, and he knew that. Doctor Anderson knew I wasn't a crazed drug addict or that I was strapped for cash, so I wasn't a prospective dealer. I think that's why he took pity on me.

"Alright look, we have this new drug we've been trying lately. It's called Phorcelanol. It's a pain killer so it should take the edge off of those headaches. That's the best I can offer."

I smiled, "Sounds great Doc, I'll try anything at this point."

I stood up and gathered my jacket as Doctor Anderson filled out a prescription pad.

"Take this to Gloria at the front desk, she'll send it to your usual CVS and you can pick up the prescription sometime tomorrow."

I nodded, shook his hand, and closed the door with a simple, "Thanks Doc."