The Hard Way
The Ending of Your Life
The beeping is ringing through my head, along with the faded footsteps on linoleum floor. My eyelids are heavy, I can’t open them. Panic starts to set in as I come more too.
Where am I?
I try to open my eyes, but to no avail. I sit there. I can hear myself whimper, some body parts shaking. Then everything sets in, the pills. I took all those pills.
Am I dead? Well obviously not. Well maybe, I could be hearing everything while I’m dead, who knows? Maybe that’s how it works. Or I’m in a.. oh. A hospital. I feel stupid.
This time when I try to open my eyes I succeed. The walls are chestnut brown, with pictures of fields hung onto them. There is a curtain, pulled back, going around my bed. I look down at my feet, there exposed. The rest of me is covered in a blue, white lined, gown.
But that’s when I notice the IV’s in my arm. I can feel them now. My arm tenses, along with my whole body. I start to whine silently, not wanting to make a spectacle, feeling tears about to escape my eyes.
I’m not sure what to do, pull them out? Yes.
I have my hand above my arm, about to pull the needle out when the nurse comes in.
“Hello, Gerard. Please, no touching the IV. It wouldn’t be good if that got disheveled.” She says, grabbing a clipboard and taking the pen attached to it off. She wore pink scrubs, with ducks on them. Kind of cute. Her nametag reads ‘Jeanie’.
“So, do you know why you’re here Gerard?” She asks raising an eyebrow.
Well of course I do, I wanted to die. I took a bunch of pills. It didn’t work. Now I’m stuck here.
“No.” I lie. Maybe if I act like I didn’t know all those pills would kill me I won’t have to go to some crazy place.
“Hmm..” Jeanie says, putting the clipboard down on the table next to me, then walks out. She goes out the door and I see through a window on the side I hadn’t noticed, and starts talking to what looks like a doctor. He nods and walks away. A moment later he comes through the door.
“Hello, Mr. Way.” He says. “So, as I understand, you have no understanding of why you’re here?”
“Well, no. Not really.” I lie again. I never lie. It’s not right. But I feel this is an appropriate time.
“Hmm.. Alright, well Gerard. Last night your mother found you on your bed passed out around 11pm and breathing heavily, you were immediately brought here by an ambulance. When we diagnosed you, you had taken several types of pills. Luckily we got you here in time, or you wouldn’t have made it.” He says.
Thanks mom. You couldn’t have waited just an hour or so?
The doctor continues to stare at me.
“So you don’t recall anything happening last night?” He says.
“Well, I remember last night I took 2 NightQuil for feeling sick, and I had an oxycodone because I had a bad migrane. Can you not do that?” That was the worse lie I’ve ever made up, of course you can’t do that.
“Where’d you get the oxycodone from?” He asks, writing on his clipboard now.
“Um, a friend. He said it’s good for headaches.” Well that lie was better.
“Alright, well I’m going to call your parents in here now, alright?” He puts the clipboard down and looking at me, expecting a reply.
“A-alright, I guess.” I say.
Great, my parents. What the hell are they going to think about this?
I realize how I’ve lied about everything so far almost. I’ll just lie to them too. I just might be able to pull this all off looking like an accident.
Yea, I didn’t try to kill myself. That’s insane.
Where am I?
I try to open my eyes, but to no avail. I sit there. I can hear myself whimper, some body parts shaking. Then everything sets in, the pills. I took all those pills.
Am I dead? Well obviously not. Well maybe, I could be hearing everything while I’m dead, who knows? Maybe that’s how it works. Or I’m in a.. oh. A hospital. I feel stupid.
This time when I try to open my eyes I succeed. The walls are chestnut brown, with pictures of fields hung onto them. There is a curtain, pulled back, going around my bed. I look down at my feet, there exposed. The rest of me is covered in a blue, white lined, gown.
But that’s when I notice the IV’s in my arm. I can feel them now. My arm tenses, along with my whole body. I start to whine silently, not wanting to make a spectacle, feeling tears about to escape my eyes.
I’m not sure what to do, pull them out? Yes.
I have my hand above my arm, about to pull the needle out when the nurse comes in.
“Hello, Gerard. Please, no touching the IV. It wouldn’t be good if that got disheveled.” She says, grabbing a clipboard and taking the pen attached to it off. She wore pink scrubs, with ducks on them. Kind of cute. Her nametag reads ‘Jeanie’.
“So, do you know why you’re here Gerard?” She asks raising an eyebrow.
Well of course I do, I wanted to die. I took a bunch of pills. It didn’t work. Now I’m stuck here.
“No.” I lie. Maybe if I act like I didn’t know all those pills would kill me I won’t have to go to some crazy place.
“Hmm..” Jeanie says, putting the clipboard down on the table next to me, then walks out. She goes out the door and I see through a window on the side I hadn’t noticed, and starts talking to what looks like a doctor. He nods and walks away. A moment later he comes through the door.
“Hello, Mr. Way.” He says. “So, as I understand, you have no understanding of why you’re here?”
“Well, no. Not really.” I lie again. I never lie. It’s not right. But I feel this is an appropriate time.
“Hmm.. Alright, well Gerard. Last night your mother found you on your bed passed out around 11pm and breathing heavily, you were immediately brought here by an ambulance. When we diagnosed you, you had taken several types of pills. Luckily we got you here in time, or you wouldn’t have made it.” He says.
Thanks mom. You couldn’t have waited just an hour or so?
The doctor continues to stare at me.
“So you don’t recall anything happening last night?” He says.
“Well, I remember last night I took 2 NightQuil for feeling sick, and I had an oxycodone because I had a bad migrane. Can you not do that?” That was the worse lie I’ve ever made up, of course you can’t do that.
“Where’d you get the oxycodone from?” He asks, writing on his clipboard now.
“Um, a friend. He said it’s good for headaches.” Well that lie was better.
“Alright, well I’m going to call your parents in here now, alright?” He puts the clipboard down and looking at me, expecting a reply.
“A-alright, I guess.” I say.
Great, my parents. What the hell are they going to think about this?
I realize how I’ve lied about everything so far almost. I’ll just lie to them too. I just might be able to pull this all off looking like an accident.
Yea, I didn’t try to kill myself. That’s insane.
Dude please update
3/5/15