Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hungry Howling

Chapter 2 – Hospital bed

by D-Darko 0 reviews

At hospital.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst - Published: 2010-11-07 - Updated: 2010-11-07 - 482 words

0Unrated
It’s something about watching your life unfold in front of your eyes. To see it naked and blank switching in your eyes like a movie. It’s the God honest truth; the dark passenger has taken over my life.

As I lay there in the hospital bed watching the white ceiling, I can’t help but wonder how death will be like. Will it be beautiful like in the movies? Or will it be grotesque?

I’m drifting, but not to sleep; I’m watching my life unfold to pieces as I’m drifting to a non-existing nirvana. I should feel scared, but I’m surprisingly calmed. My whole body is numbed and not as stiff and hard it was only moments ago. Is this what dying feels like?

If I didn’t see hunger as such a beautiful thing, this would never have happened. I would be happy, and looking healthy. Right now I look sick; I’m bleak, skinny and my hair is getting thinner. My whole body aces of pain, and I find it difficult to even moan. I’m shaking like a leaf every time I try to move. Dying is the easy part of an eating disorder, what I’m going through now is the extreme part.

Now the hard part of filling together a puzzle, is finding there are missing pieces. My life is filled with missing parts because of my extreme seek for hunger. When this is said, I also have a hard time connecting with people, because if they’d see the real me they’d see me for what I am…empty. And then they’d be gone.

The beautiful part of feeling hungry is the kick. The extreme kick that makes you feel alive, yet empty at the same time. It’s such a beautiful combination, this hunger. Hunger makes me feel strong, and so invincible. It’s a howl for hunger that I keep on seeking.

When the doctor tells me I can die, I’m not surprised. I’m not shocked; Id been feeling it for a while now. It’s almost like I can smell death; it reeks of hospital and sickness. My sickness. I can even see it in his eyes that this is the end; his eyes bare sadness and concern.

He tells me I should be lucky to even be alive right now. I can’t speak back; my voice is gone. If I only had some strength left I could at least tell him I want to live; that I want to try make a living anyway. My life should just have begun, not end this early.

My life is falling apart through my fingers, and all I can do is sit back and watch. It’s a tragic story this life. Where is the orderly, controlled, effective me? How did I lose her?
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