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In a Coma - Part One
Posted by JSYL
on
Saturday, June 02, 2007
in
JSYL's Prose
Mia
She forgets she’s alive, sometimes.
She can go for days without remembering.
An empty shell, she trudges through days on autopilot, doing all the things she should and none of the things that would link her listlessness to suicidal tendencies, but dead to the world all the same. She doesn’t try to pretend she enjoys living, because she’s forgotten what it means to be alive.
Her eyes remain fixed on what’s directly in front of her, with no spark of interest in anything in particular. She will participate in conversations with that group of people that persists in surrounding her throughout the day, smile, laugh even. But when she’s alone, the hours can pass by her as scenery past a moving train. Her thoughts remain stationary- no bitterness- just a numb sensation, an indifference. While she has no real motivation to go on living, death seems just as empty a prospect.
But just when it seems as though her mind may be sucked so far into that vacuum of self- indulgence that those around her may never truly see her again, she steps out off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic.
Bam.
Another bus narrowly misses her ribcage by inches. And that rush, that chemical reaction that instinctively pulls her back onto the pavement is what makes all the difference. It physically forces her blood, which usually ebbs and drips slowly through her painfully thin body, to thrust itself into her heart.
She wakes up from her deep sleep, and sees the ground beneath her for the first time in days.
But it only lasts a second.
She slowly walks across the near empty street again, looking only at what’s directly in front of her.
[to be continued...]
|
She forgets she’s alive, sometimes.
She can go for days without remembering.
An empty shell, she trudges through days on autopilot, doing all the things she should and none of the things that would link her listlessness to suicidal tendencies, but dead to the world all the same. She doesn’t try to pretend she enjoys living, because she’s forgotten what it means to be alive.
Her eyes remain fixed on what’s directly in front of her, with no spark of interest in anything in particular. She will participate in conversations with that group of people that persists in surrounding her throughout the day, smile, laugh even. But when she’s alone, the hours can pass by her as scenery past a moving train. Her thoughts remain stationary- no bitterness- just a numb sensation, an indifference. While she has no real motivation to go on living, death seems just as empty a prospect.
But just when it seems as though her mind may be sucked so far into that vacuum of self- indulgence that those around her may never truly see her again, she steps out off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic.
Bam.
Another bus narrowly misses her ribcage by inches. And that rush, that chemical reaction that instinctively pulls her back onto the pavement is what makes all the difference. It physically forces her blood, which usually ebbs and drips slowly through her painfully thin body, to thrust itself into her heart.
She wakes up from her deep sleep, and sees the ground beneath her for the first time in days.
But it only lasts a second.
She slowly walks across the near empty street again, looking only at what’s directly in front of her.
[to be continued...]
|
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