ewlrjwerlr

I wake up.1

I feel so sick. There are IV needles in either arm, one of which has left a bruise the size of Africa on the underside of my elbow. A small pink teddy bear drops to the floor as I shift my weight and sit up, my eyes going lazy and limp for a moment as I have a gander at trying to recall what got me in the hospital to begin with.2

Fat suit3

Floor4

No helmet?5

My mother's voice saves my ears from the brain-rattling, hyper-repetitive hard monitor connected at my pointer finger.6

"Good morning, Sunshine. Are you feeling okay?"7

"No."8

Not at all. I'm itchy and weak-stomached. Rumor has it that injuries like this warrant morphine.9

"Did they give me morphine?"10

My mother nods, and in response, I make a feeble attempt at a victory dance, which only makes my stomach turn all over again.11

A tap on the door, and a white apron shuffles in. My doctor's not a person, he's just a machine in a crisp coat that, regardless of how many people die at his hand, never gets even a speckle of blood on it. It's never dirty, he's never red.12

Behind him is a nurse, a horror film nurse carrying a tray of biohazard green jello that finds it's way to my lap. I've never been so excited to see horse-hoof sugar in a bowl.13

"Doin' alright, kiddo?"14

The doctor taps his clipboard.15

I nod and down my feast without a moment's wait. 16

The morphine slides down the tubing of my IV and invades my blood stream. 17

Everything spins.18

And my gooey supper returns to the bowl via bile and gag reflex.19

I wipe the vomit from my mouth and let my head fall back against the bed, which also ends unpleasantly. A sharp pain rushes through my ears, to my eyes, and everything else on this ten pound pile of shit that's attached to the top of my head.20

Oh, I'd kill for a guillotine right now. I'd love to be headless. My hands shake as the push the tray of half-swallowed food away from my lap. The undead, scary scary nurse takes it away and my mom looks worried.21