Twisting and TurningMature

Chapter 15

    I felt a sharp pain in my arm, awakening me once more. I moaned, and opened my eyes to see more blood being taken from my useless body. As soon as I slightly moved, I vomited. There was no way to stop it.

    I continued falling asleep and being woken up to sharp pains for the next few hours, until daybreak.

    “You’re going to be transferred to another hospital.” That’s all I really heard, I didn’t listen to the other words that were mumbled. Another hour of mind-blowing pain past, as some EMTs walked into my ‘room.’

    I had to slide onto a stretcher to be rolled out. I coughed up blood while doing so. Once I got on the stretcher, I was strapped in so I couldn’t move at all. I couldn’t even turn my head properly. Everyone stared as I was rolled down the hallway and outside to the ambulance.

    My face turned red with embarrassment. Everyone knew what I had done. I could feel them silently judging me.
    “How could anyone be so selfish?”

    “Why would some immature girl do something so stupid?”

    “Maybe if I looked like her, I’d kill myself too.”

    “She’s going straight to hell.”

    These are just some of the things I assumed people were thinking about me. I was a horrid feeling. The slight movement of the stretcher caused me to vomit more and more. They lifted the stretcher up and into the ambulance. I felt so terrible. I just wanted to die already; I couldn’t wait much longer. I was too weak for this.

    The ambulance took off, causing me to vomit, yet again. There seemed to be no end to it. The ride appeared to last forever. I just lied there, helpless and confused. I could feel every bump in the road, and every time we stopped. It made my stomach turn and hurt relentlessly.

    The two women who were riding in the back of the ambulance with me were sitting there and reading magazines. I was used to being ignored, though. Especially when I was in pain. However, it was usually emotional pain, and not physical, but this time it was both. I could feel them looking down on me, thinking of what a terrible person I am.

    I guess they didn’t understand. They only knew the textbook version of depression, but it’s deeper than that. Everyone is different, and sometimes there isn’t a way to cure it. It reminds me of cancer, to be honest. Although people don’t choose to get cancer, it still affects them in the same way. You hurt everywhere. Getting out of bed is a struggle. You’re just waiting to die. There’s not always hope. And it kills.

    I know it is selfish of me to think that way, but it’s true if you really think about it. It takes over your body, actions, and life, and sometimes, there’s nothing you can do.

The End

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