Waiting Is The Hardest Part
It’ll only be an hour or two, I tell myself. It’s so stupid of me to be here in the first place. I was putting up Christmas lights and my foot slipped off the ladder. I went down and something erupted in pain. My girlfriend insisted I go in, but the only thing open right now is the ER, so here I am.
It's the usual motley crew of ER denizens around me tonight. The toddler with breathing issues. Probably croup. Just give him meds. The old man with half a finger from trimming trees. The couple clearly on drugs sitting and watching some crappy Nickelodeon movie and giggling. And me, someone who sees it all as nothing more an overabundance of caution.
There’s a man on the other side of the barrier from me who is clearly having a bad time. He’s moaning and gagging pretty much non-stop. It’s kind of overexaggerated, which is funny, but it’s bordering on ridiculous. I kinda want to just call back for him to either die or stop bitching, but that would be gauche and probably get me dirty looks from other people. Although, given their clear annoyance with him too, they may actually agree with me.
His gagging is getting worse. There’s a heave and now something splattered on the floor. Lovely. I don’t want to turn to look, but that didn’t sound like puke. More like…meat. Sausages maybe. In the reflection of the glass in front of me, I can see something pouring out of him. Maybe he should go next. Nobody seems to be bothered by this, though, so I guess this is just normal.
Someone else is coming in now. Not sure why they brought her to the ER. She has half a head. I can see all the structures inside what’s left of her head from here, but she’s still standing. Okay, sure. You see weird things at the ER all the time. Behind her, there’s a guy that clearly has been dead a while, since he’s mostly rotted away.
This clock isn’t moving. For the love of all that is holy, just make the clock go faster. I don’t even care that they just wheeled in someone that’s been bitten in half by a shark. I don’t even care that I’m sitting next to a lady that looks like a pretzel except in human form. None of that bothers me.
It's the clock. The damn clock. I don’t see it ticking. I don’t see it moving at all. That’s the worst part. I keep checking my phone, but the time keeps changing. It’s three hours later. It’s five hours before. It’s a different date. None of it makes sense and that’s annoying me.
I just want to get in, get my foot taped up, get my pain meds, and get home. I’m sure my girlfriend is worried sick. She’s sent me a few pictures and she’s crying in them.
I just don’t get why she’s wearing black.
Here is where I''ll post random stories that aren't, as of yet, in a larger book. Call it a free ride into the mouth of madness, yo.