Categories > Original > Drama > What's Another Night All Alone, When You're Spending Every Day On Your Own...
Dylan just sits there all day now, people try to talk to him but he just doesn't listen.
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Sorry for leaving it like a month to update this, I've been really busy and have just had major writers block...
Dylans POV
I didn't sleep much the rest of the night, most of the time I just lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the constant beep of the heart monitor. The constant fucking noise, it never ended. At about 4am I decided I needed the toilet, I tried sitting up but my head caned, it felt like a thousand sledgehammers smashing my skull from the inside out. I fell back on my hard hospital pillow, and tried to sit up again. I got the same, excruciating pain, but tried my best to ignore it this time. I needed a piss. As I tried to get out of bed I felt something holding me back, I looked down to see I had a cannular stuck into my arm, and another one around my face, I weighed out the cost of needing the toilet with the risk of dying, and realised that if I hadn't wanted to die I wouldn't be in here in the first place. I ripped the tubes out of me and immediately felt more free. I took a few steps and felt kinda dizzy, must have just been the no walking for however long I was out of it. I took a few more steps and felt even more dizzy, I just blamed that on the drugs the hospital had filled me up with, combined with the lack of movement...I shut my eyes for a second, and reopened them. It couldn't be too hard to find a bathroom? I got to the door and opened it, and looked down the hall. All was dark but I could see a few lights illuminating the way. I followed them. The hallway started spinning as I got further and further down it, I leaned against the wall for support, I could feel sweat forming on my temples, feel my black hair stick to my face...Why was this is difficult? I breathed more, deep breaths, and turned a corner. Hallelujah! A fecking bathroom! I thought. I pushed the door open and almost stumbled inside. Reaching for the sink I leaned over and threw up. I'm disgusting. I thought to myself, I looked up, and saw my reflection in the mirror, greasy black hair stuck to my face, bloodshot eyes, sweating, and wearing a disgusting blue hospital nighty. Beautiful.
I turned around to face a urinal, did my business and washed my hands. The water felt so cool, I splashed some on my face too, it felt good. I took a heavy breath and leaned against the sink again, my legs felt really weak and my head was spinning, but I was determined to get back to my room. I turned and headed for the door, but tripped ever so slightly, I sent myself tumbling for the wooden door headfirst.
I felt the impact as I hit my head, felt the sledgehammers return ten times worse now, I felt myself slide onto the floor and put my hand to my head, feel something sticky. I crumpled behind the door, semi-conscious and finding it hard to breathe. I'm gonna die here... I thought, as the darkness slowly engulfed me once more.
What felt like seconds later I felt something hard hit my back. I turned my head ever so slightly and moaned. Heard someone mutter behind the door, and push harder, shoving me out the way. I clawed at the floor, trying feebly to get up, with no success. The person must have seen me, because two seconds later I heard a voice saying "Oh shit mate, you alright?!" I groaned, it was all I could do. "One sec man, I'll go get help!" About a minute and a half later I heard two people bundle through the door, I felt myself lifted onto a hard surface with a pillow shoved under my head, "He's got a cut on his forehead, we'll need to clean that up and get him some steri-strips" Said one voice, Which room is he in?" Said the other. The first voice replied with "We can find that out later, let's sort him out first." I felt myself lifted out the room and taken somewhere unknown. Why was everyone so willing for me to live, couldn't I make that decision myself?
Dylans POV
I didn't sleep much the rest of the night, most of the time I just lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the constant beep of the heart monitor. The constant fucking noise, it never ended. At about 4am I decided I needed the toilet, I tried sitting up but my head caned, it felt like a thousand sledgehammers smashing my skull from the inside out. I fell back on my hard hospital pillow, and tried to sit up again. I got the same, excruciating pain, but tried my best to ignore it this time. I needed a piss. As I tried to get out of bed I felt something holding me back, I looked down to see I had a cannular stuck into my arm, and another one around my face, I weighed out the cost of needing the toilet with the risk of dying, and realised that if I hadn't wanted to die I wouldn't be in here in the first place. I ripped the tubes out of me and immediately felt more free. I took a few steps and felt kinda dizzy, must have just been the no walking for however long I was out of it. I took a few more steps and felt even more dizzy, I just blamed that on the drugs the hospital had filled me up with, combined with the lack of movement...I shut my eyes for a second, and reopened them. It couldn't be too hard to find a bathroom? I got to the door and opened it, and looked down the hall. All was dark but I could see a few lights illuminating the way. I followed them. The hallway started spinning as I got further and further down it, I leaned against the wall for support, I could feel sweat forming on my temples, feel my black hair stick to my face...Why was this is difficult? I breathed more, deep breaths, and turned a corner. Hallelujah! A fecking bathroom! I thought. I pushed the door open and almost stumbled inside. Reaching for the sink I leaned over and threw up. I'm disgusting. I thought to myself, I looked up, and saw my reflection in the mirror, greasy black hair stuck to my face, bloodshot eyes, sweating, and wearing a disgusting blue hospital nighty. Beautiful.
I turned around to face a urinal, did my business and washed my hands. The water felt so cool, I splashed some on my face too, it felt good. I took a heavy breath and leaned against the sink again, my legs felt really weak and my head was spinning, but I was determined to get back to my room. I turned and headed for the door, but tripped ever so slightly, I sent myself tumbling for the wooden door headfirst.
I felt the impact as I hit my head, felt the sledgehammers return ten times worse now, I felt myself slide onto the floor and put my hand to my head, feel something sticky. I crumpled behind the door, semi-conscious and finding it hard to breathe. I'm gonna die here... I thought, as the darkness slowly engulfed me once more.
What felt like seconds later I felt something hard hit my back. I turned my head ever so slightly and moaned. Heard someone mutter behind the door, and push harder, shoving me out the way. I clawed at the floor, trying feebly to get up, with no success. The person must have seen me, because two seconds later I heard a voice saying "Oh shit mate, you alright?!" I groaned, it was all I could do. "One sec man, I'll go get help!" About a minute and a half later I heard two people bundle through the door, I felt myself lifted onto a hard surface with a pillow shoved under my head, "He's got a cut on his forehead, we'll need to clean that up and get him some steri-strips" Said one voice, Which room is he in?" Said the other. The first voice replied with "We can find that out later, let's sort him out first." I felt myself lifted out the room and taken somewhere unknown. Why was everyone so willing for me to live, couldn't I make that decision myself?
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