I can’t decide whether I am alive or dead or floating in between the two.
Am I scared? Yes.
Do I want to die? No.
I black out.
Returning to the state of not quite consciousness I feel like I’m scratching the surface of it but I can’t quite pierce through the veil that is blocking my view. I hear sharp movements that kind of resemble footsteps nearing me, then a thud followed by more sharp movements.
Do I remember what happened? Yes.
Do I want to wake up? Yes. No. Maybe.
I want to know how Peter is. Scratch that. I need to know because we both can’t die, that is just too much.
I can hear faint noises like a steady humming sound. I know I’m in a hospital because I can feel the bright fluorescent lights burning my eyelids, which I still cannot open. I’m glued. That would be funny if I didn’t know the state that my body is in… but I do and I know it’s not good. And in comes the stupid positivity at my defense. I am not okay. Scratch that. I am in pain and I need to know what’s happening because I am a control freak and I can’t work without knowledge, information keeps me going. Everything goes black again.
I wake to the humming as a tickle in my ears and a shiver down my spine. So I must be conscious or alive at the very least. A laugh rumbles through me I think. I should be ecstatic but I don’t know what’s going on and I know when I wake up Peter won’t be by my side so I don’t want to wake up because if he’s not there then he’s in trouble as usual and I can’t can’t keep up.
The gluiness? Is that even a word? Has whatever that happened to me damaged all my intelligent brain cells so that I can’t even come up with proper words anymore? Ahh I guess this is what it feels like to be normal then. Oh my god when did I get so arrogant?
Anyway back to the gluiness, ha. My eyelids don’t feel so hot anymore I can actually feel moisture in my eyes, so I roll them around and squeeze my eyes, once, twice, three times before relaxing my eyelids and slowly, I try to peal them open with no help from my hands.
The sensation feels so new to me that I can’t help but dive into it. Air meets my open eyes and I blink several times to adjust to the oxygen my eyes are racing, pumping for as well as the blaring lights that can’t be healthy for any hospital patient. A smile tugs at my lips and it’s then that I realize and accept that Peter is not there, I can’t help the sting of disappointment I feel even though I knew this was how it would be—
Where am I?
This isn’t a hospital.
My heart picks up speed and I try to push myself up but my hands are numb and floppy and they will not cooperate. I settle an elbow on either side of my body, trying to push myself up into a sitting position so I can investigate my surroundings from the bed I’m on.
It’s then that I realize how cold I am… how cold it is. I puff out a breath and I can see it dancing in front of me. My skin is covered in a layer of goose bumps and I look down at my toes to see that they look a shade of purple, meaning I am close to frostbite and damn do I want to keep my toes.
The sight makes my stomach clench and I feel like I may actually throw up. If I’m not at the hospital then where I am? Does anyone even know that I’m gone? Self-preservation and survival instincts kick in and the too recognizable feeling of adrenaline kicks in, masking all the instant pain I feel as I push myself off the bed and clamber to my feet. I look down at myself and see I’m still in the same clothes as I was yester— I don’t even know how long I’ve been here... so let’s just say the same day as I was knocked unconscious. I survey my surroundings once again and see a small makeshift window about the bed I was sleeping in but it looks too small to fit the width of my body through. The walls are brick and not insulated and I can feel the bristle of cool air seep through the corners of the room. There is also a metal door in the right corner of the room and my only escape but being the only sizable entrance/exit it also means it’s my trap.
