Trapped In a Torture Chamber Part V

I want to sleep, but it scares me. Sometimes I'm scared I won't wake up. But then again, would it really be all that bad to die? I don't know how long I've been here. Days, weeks, it all blurs into one so I have no idea. And yet, I still don't want to die. Maybe that's why I'm not dead yet.

Still, is it possible to pull out of this? I'm not changing. I've lost count of the number of check-ups I've had, but I do know one thing: I haven't changed. The doctors don't talk to mom anymore, but she doesn't talk to them either. I hate it because it makes it so much harder to know what's going on.

Mom isn't here all the time anymore. I can tell she leaves. My guess is she goes to work, but who knows? She doesn't cry as much, either. Of course, she still does, just not as much as before. It makes it harder to know when she's here and when she's not.

She isn't the only one who visits me, though. I've heard various friends coming in, but I've been surprised by who hasn't. Jared hasn't come by. Neither has Eric or Karri. But no one says what is going on or anything. Oi. It's so frustrating. Why does it have to be like this?!

Trapped In a Torture Chamber Part IV

Maybe sleep isn't better than life. The dreams are too vivid. They take me to paradise only to destroy it and all my hope. There is no hope for me. Just nothing with an added dash of nothing. It's better than consciousness in that at least I know it's not real. Usually. But it acts as a way to toy with all emotion I have.

My dreams aren't anything special. Just life. My life. Except it's not. When I start to believe that everything's okay, it all begins to change. Everything goes wrong. The faces change into something... odd. It's the only way to describe it. And my passion and joy for life dissolves into fear. Suddenly my world is crashing down around me and death is around the corner. But then I wake up.

If my body was normal, I'd know that I'd be tangled in my sheets, breathing hard, my heart rate accelerated, and sweat soaking my body. But my body isn't normal. It's outside of my control. I can hear the machines controlling its movements, monitoring its condition. The air forced into my lungs is steady. My heart monitor says it's running smoothly. I hate this.

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part III

Hmm. More knocking. I must be the doctor.

"You wished to see me, ma'am?"

Yup. Doctor. I wish my doctor was a woman though. Then I could pretend to have some hot chick "examining" me, even if I couldn't feel it. But he's probably some middle-aged burnout who hates his life. Sick.

"Yes. I want to know what you have to say about my son."

"Well, ma'am, it's like the nurse said. Nothing has changed. But at least his condition is stable."

"What about his chances of recovering? How long will he be like this?"

"The chances of him recovering are minimal. I highly doubt anything will change."

Mom must be crying. Her breathing's changed. Faster, shallow breaths. A little rattly. Oi. Poor doctor. Mom is really hard to resist when she sheds tears. But she knows that. Maybe that's what she's doing, trying to get him to tell her I'll recover even if it's a lie I'd tell her myself if I could.

"Ma'am, I know this must be hard for you, first your husband, now your son - "

"He's not dead yet!"

Silence. Painful, numbing silence. So is that where dad is? Dead? I guess it would explain why she's a mess. But fuck. FUCK. Please tell me that's a lie and I'm just jumping to conclusions. FUCK!

I guess the doctor is leaving. Yup, there's the door. Aw, shit! That sounded like mom just feel. I would've caught her. Fucking douche, didn't even stay to make sure she was okay! Now she's on the floor crying and no one is there for her. Why do I have to hear this? Why couldn't I have just been a vegetable? Why do I have to live through this torture? Fuck my life!!!

I can'tg do this - listen to my mom collapsed on the floor crying over me and ... uhg, I can't even think it. Because there's no way dad is gone. It's dad, he's always there. His quirckiness, his spontaneous laughter - no, he's not dead. He's going to walk in through the door any second now laughing and bringing in coffee. Mom will look up and smile because you can't help it when you see his face.

But I can't wait for that. I don't want to hear this. You know, I never used to be this tired before. But what can I do besides sleep? And it'll be a pleasant release from this waking nightmare.

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part II

Dreamless sleep is nice. If only I could stay asleep forever. At least the black void of sleep is better than this self awareness. Yes, someone is definitely crying. Her sobbing woke me up. I hate this. The suffocating nothingness is attrocious. But I can't sleep anymore.

Knocking? Where am I? That lady is trying to compose herself. I can hear her footsteps on the floor. It's made of linoleum or something of the sort. Hmm, the door sounds farther away from my feet than I thought. At least, from where I think my feet are. Hell, for all I know, my body has been chopped to bits. It's not like I can see it and know if that's a lie.

"Ma'am, I need to check his vitals."

Who is that? I don't know her voice. Am I in a hospital? I must be.

"Yes, yes, that's fine."

Shit, it's my mom. I must look really bad if she's been crying that hard. Where's dad? He should be holding her, reasusuring her that I'm fine.

"Everything appears the same, ma'am."

"I want to speak to the doctor."

That was surprisingly harsh. Mom is never rude to people.

"I can get the doctor, but he will tell you the same thing. His condition hasn't changed."

"I want to speak TO THE DOCTOR."

Jeez, scary! Mom never uses her "mom voice" on anyone. Accept me. Haha, I'd love to see the look on that nurse's face right now. Mom can be scary when she wants to, but usually not in public. How bad am I?

"Alright, I'll get the doctor."

"Thank you."

Do I even want to know what's wrong with me? But the better question is, where's dad? He wouldn't just leave her. Is he at work? No, he couldn't be. If I'm bad enough for mom to be acting the way she is, then dad would miss to be here. So where is he?

I hat this, being trapped in my head with nothing but sound to keep me company. But how would she know I'm okay? I can't speak, can't move, can't feel. Just hear. It's like a new form of torture made to make me lose my mind.

Ha! What an interesting thought, losing my mind. Trapped here with myself and whatever I become. It could be the third World War ragging in my head and no one would know. I'd be stuck on this bed, or whatever I'm laying on, just as still as always. Torture.

Gah! My poor mom! If only I could tell her I'm fine. But how do you communicate when all you can do is hear? That's all there is to comfort me - the suffocating black abyss of my mind and sounds from a world that doesn't even know I'm here.

I wish I could do more. Or even have somoeone act as if I was still here. Even if I can't react, it would make it easier. I wouldn't feel as if I was locked inside this wourld of my design. I mean, really. There's nothing here but me. I am held captive in a world that is moving on without me. I can't do anything.

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part I

I'm dead. I just don't know it yet. Everything is black. I can't feel. I can't move. I must be dead. I don't understand. What happened? Was I sleeping? I don't remember. What do I remember? Uhg, what is this fog? Why do I feel like I'm swimming in molasses? Thinking shouldn't be so difficult. Maybe it's not molasses, maybe it's tar. Or solidifyng cement. Why can't I remember?

Car? Driving? Was I driving? School. I was at school. I can't think. Class, then nothing. At least there's no pain. But I'm trapped in this nothingness. If this is death I've been screwed. It's not much better than life. Just a load of nothing deep within a sea of nothing. Fuck.

Aw shit! What the hell is that?! Sound? Dammit, I'm not dead! But I can't speak. I can't move. Why can I hear? Is that - - is that someone...crying? Who would be crying in my ocean of black? Certainly not me; I can't move or speak or breathe or feel. Uhg. All this effort to drift in this nightmare. Fuck it. Blackness, take me home.

Short Story!!!

Holy canoly!!! I'm writing a short story!!! I will probably put it up in bits and pieces. You'll have to forgive me for the crappy writing, short stories are not my forte. But, I was hit with the force of writing and it knocked me off my feet. So now I've been writing during available moments (lost inbetween times of other necessary activites *sniff*) and working to finish the story because *shockingly* I don't even know what's going on or where it's going. And I'm dying to know how it plays out. So I have to write. But yes, stay tuned and look for a short story because I loves it and hopefully you will enjoy it, too ^.^