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Pain is my chest. So peculiar. Like a razer blade. It goes deeper and deeper; I panic. Is there really a knife in my chest? I look down. No, no knife; then why is there this pain? I sit here, useless and vulnerable, while you fight for your life. I sit. You fight. Dear God, when did it become so painfully quiet? I strain to hear anything. No sound. Just the steady beeping. That beeping is my lullaby. Sleeping to it, letting it drown me. The beep won't falter. The beep is steady and strong. My chest woke me, and there is still no knife. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I lost it a while ago. When this started. Maybe that's why I keep pushing. Trying to fight for you.
Why don't you fight?
This is about Heather, isn't it? What she did to you... She's killing you, isn't she? That's why you won't try. You don't want to live with that burden. That hate. "Not everyone hates you, you know..." My only response is that beeping.
Beep beep beep.
Make it go away. Make that stupid pain go away.
Beep beep beep.
Please, make it disappear. "You aren't alone. You know that right?"
The beeping answers me. Low and unfaltering. Beep beep beep.
"Why won't you answer me?" I start to cry, the salty tears falling on your face. "Don't go, you're all I have."
Beep beep beep.
Your mom finally came. Didn't you see? She was crying for you. Why can't you open your eyes? See that you're not alone. Your step-dad came too. He loves you. He hates himself for what he did. He finally said sorry.
That should shock you into opening up.
Beep beep beep.
The steady rise of your chest painfully reminds me of my own. Is this what you're feeling? Is your heart being stabbed? Or is it just me? And my broken heart.
"I love you. Please see that..."
Beep beep beep- BEEEP! BEEEP!
It's frenzied, the beeping. You thrash, a scream breaks through your clenched teeth. You gasp and clutch your chest in pain. Dear God. You scream and scream, crushing my hand in your pain. Your screams echo down the hall, and I can't take it. It's too much. You roll onto your side, and heave up nothing. No food to bring up. A gurgled scream breaks through the ranks, and you turn my hand to pulp. "It's alright. It'll be okay." I cry. Where's that stupid doctor?! You heave again, and something drops into the bucket. Something wet and red. Blood. Oh, no, no, no, no! You can't die! I try to tell you that, but you just smile.
"I guess I get out earlier..." The doctor comes in, giving you some painkillers, and shouting at you to stay alive. Funny. This one doctor, who was once so adamant about killing you, wants to save you. Ironic. My hand is going numb, but I squeeze yours gently, and you cry. "Let me die. Let me die."
Beep beep beep.
It's back, the beep. Thank you.
Beep beep beep.
I fall asleep, your hand clinging to mine.
Beep beep beep.
- by sharpietoxin |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 08/06/2010 |
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- Title: Beeping
- Artist: sharpietoxin
- Description: Continuation of "Your sickness."
- Date: 08/06/2010
- Tags: beeping sickness
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