Heavy & Light
Push
There was darkness swirling around me. Thick black smoke and no matter how hard I tried to wave it away, it kept coming until I could no longer see the light that was once in front of me. In the distance I could hear the overwhelming and steady beep of a lifeline dying. In my ear, I could hear my mother crying. If I could just push through the darkness I could save her. I kept stumbling forward but going nowhere. Her crying turned into screaming and I fought against the smoke harder.
“No! Fuck!”
Someone was shaking me and there was a brief split second where my heart skipped a beat and I tensed. Then, whatever had grabbed ahold of me, I shoved away violently.
I woke up disoriented. Twilight was streaming through the window and all my blankets were twisted around my feet and ankles. For a moment I forgot where I was until I heard a voice from across the room.
“You’re not going to go crazy and kill yourself like my last roomie, right?”
I assumed this must be Alan. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up while mumbling a hoarse, “What the fuck?” The boy just stared at me through a veil of ginger hair. He was bloated and sick looking. I knew that look. It was the look of someone going through withdrawal. Instantly, I frowned. I was about to ask something to break the silence when there was a knock at the door.
“Checks,” said a quiet, male voice. One of the staff poked his head in and looked at the two of us. He acknowledged me with a smile.
“You’re awake,” he commented before checking his watch and scribbling something down.
“And he attacked me,” Alan spoke up, “I was just trying to wake him up because he seemed to be having a nightmare and he fucking hit me.”
I stammered, trying to find words while shaking my head. All I managed to get out was a small, “It was an accident!” Things like this had been happening for years. My father told me I once had a full blown fist fight with him while completely asleep…
“Well, you might have startled Austin,” the man said, “Did you think about that?”
Alan simply shrugged, as if he was over the whole thing by now. After a brief and awkward moment of silence, the door clicked closed and the two of us were left alone. Fleetingly, I searched the room for a clock. I felt drowsy, my head was pounding. I could still hear my mother’s screaming in the back of my head. 4:34 P.M. I had been asleep eight hours. My body must’ve been thanking me for it even though I couldn’t escape the thought of how much I hated to sleep.
Alan was still watching me carefully. The look in his eyes made me uneasy, like if I made any sort of sudden movements he’d jump on me -- or call that man back in here. I wasn’t sure what would be worse.
“So?” Alan spoke up again, this time like he was waiting for me to say something.
“... So?” I replied, unsure of what he expected me to say. I didn’t get an answer but he didn’t take his glare off of me.
“Look, I’m sorry… Just don’t do that, okay? Just get a nurse or something,” I explained awkwardly. My voice was shaking. I didn’t belong here. Maybe in therapy, yes. But not here. I wasn’t crazy. Not like these people. Slowly I got to my feet and left the room. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d get back and Alan would be gone.
I found the bathrooms and after a long talk with one of the staff members, I was allowed to take a supervised shower. I was told that my father had been contacted and he would bring my belongings tomorrow morning. When I went to dinner, I didn’t see Alan. It was like being in high school all over again. I knew absolutely no one. After standing in the middle of the cafeteria for a minute, I eventually found a seat in the corner by myself.
Even at the night activity, I didn’t see Alan. I began to worry despite myself. He was the only person I knew this far and although he wasn’t the most likeable person, he was still the only fucking person I was familiar with. My head was spinning by the time I was allowed back to my room. I walked in and it was dark. Assuming Alan was asleep, I closed the door quietly. I stepped softly across the floor, not really sure how I was going to occupy my time while I stayed awake for likely the rest of the night. And then I heard whimpering coming from underneath the bundle of blankets on Alan’s bed.
“Uh,” I stopped in my tracks until his bed started shaking. Without another thought, I went over to him and nudged the blanket off. He was shivering violently. I had seen many friends before go through withdrawal -- but maybe never as bad as this. Alan was covered in sweat and by the way he was crying, I could tell he was in pain.
“Do you want me to go get someone?” I asked, about to get up and hurry out the door to find a nurse but Alan grabbed me by my shirt.
“No!”
“Are you sure because you look like--”
“No, please… Just stay here,” the boy was pleading with me. Still, I sat there, not knowing what to do. Secretly I prayed that the door would swish open but no one came.
“Please.”
This time I couldn’t argue. I nudged Alan over a little bit and got into the small bed next to him.
“Tell me about your tattoos,” said the boy through the pain. So, I cleared my throat and started to.
“No! Fuck!”
Someone was shaking me and there was a brief split second where my heart skipped a beat and I tensed. Then, whatever had grabbed ahold of me, I shoved away violently.
I woke up disoriented. Twilight was streaming through the window and all my blankets were twisted around my feet and ankles. For a moment I forgot where I was until I heard a voice from across the room.
“You’re not going to go crazy and kill yourself like my last roomie, right?”
I assumed this must be Alan. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up while mumbling a hoarse, “What the fuck?” The boy just stared at me through a veil of ginger hair. He was bloated and sick looking. I knew that look. It was the look of someone going through withdrawal. Instantly, I frowned. I was about to ask something to break the silence when there was a knock at the door.
“Checks,” said a quiet, male voice. One of the staff poked his head in and looked at the two of us. He acknowledged me with a smile.
“You’re awake,” he commented before checking his watch and scribbling something down.
“And he attacked me,” Alan spoke up, “I was just trying to wake him up because he seemed to be having a nightmare and he fucking hit me.”
I stammered, trying to find words while shaking my head. All I managed to get out was a small, “It was an accident!” Things like this had been happening for years. My father told me I once had a full blown fist fight with him while completely asleep…
“Well, you might have startled Austin,” the man said, “Did you think about that?”
Alan simply shrugged, as if he was over the whole thing by now. After a brief and awkward moment of silence, the door clicked closed and the two of us were left alone. Fleetingly, I searched the room for a clock. I felt drowsy, my head was pounding. I could still hear my mother’s screaming in the back of my head. 4:34 P.M. I had been asleep eight hours. My body must’ve been thanking me for it even though I couldn’t escape the thought of how much I hated to sleep.
Alan was still watching me carefully. The look in his eyes made me uneasy, like if I made any sort of sudden movements he’d jump on me -- or call that man back in here. I wasn’t sure what would be worse.
“So?” Alan spoke up again, this time like he was waiting for me to say something.
“... So?” I replied, unsure of what he expected me to say. I didn’t get an answer but he didn’t take his glare off of me.
“Look, I’m sorry… Just don’t do that, okay? Just get a nurse or something,” I explained awkwardly. My voice was shaking. I didn’t belong here. Maybe in therapy, yes. But not here. I wasn’t crazy. Not like these people. Slowly I got to my feet and left the room. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d get back and Alan would be gone.
I found the bathrooms and after a long talk with one of the staff members, I was allowed to take a supervised shower. I was told that my father had been contacted and he would bring my belongings tomorrow morning. When I went to dinner, I didn’t see Alan. It was like being in high school all over again. I knew absolutely no one. After standing in the middle of the cafeteria for a minute, I eventually found a seat in the corner by myself.
Even at the night activity, I didn’t see Alan. I began to worry despite myself. He was the only person I knew this far and although he wasn’t the most likeable person, he was still the only fucking person I was familiar with. My head was spinning by the time I was allowed back to my room. I walked in and it was dark. Assuming Alan was asleep, I closed the door quietly. I stepped softly across the floor, not really sure how I was going to occupy my time while I stayed awake for likely the rest of the night. And then I heard whimpering coming from underneath the bundle of blankets on Alan’s bed.
“Uh,” I stopped in my tracks until his bed started shaking. Without another thought, I went over to him and nudged the blanket off. He was shivering violently. I had seen many friends before go through withdrawal -- but maybe never as bad as this. Alan was covered in sweat and by the way he was crying, I could tell he was in pain.
“Do you want me to go get someone?” I asked, about to get up and hurry out the door to find a nurse but Alan grabbed me by my shirt.
“No!”
“Are you sure because you look like--”
“No, please… Just stay here,” the boy was pleading with me. Still, I sat there, not knowing what to do. Secretly I prayed that the door would swish open but no one came.
“Please.”
This time I couldn’t argue. I nudged Alan over a little bit and got into the small bed next to him.
“Tell me about your tattoos,” said the boy through the pain. So, I cleared my throat and started to.
This story is great! Are you going to continue writing
8/17/14