grUeBERfest 2012: UntitledSubmitted by Sage at 2012-10-17 09:55:05 EDT
Rating: 1.75 on 11 ratings (14 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
I wake up. Overhead are bright lights; people who appear to be doctors and nurses are surrounding me.
I don’t know how I ended up here. A million thoughts zoom through my mind…was I in a car accident? Did I pass out? There must be something medically wrong with me, but aside from pure anxiety about why I am here, I feel fine.
An older woman who appears to be a doctor smiles at me.
“You’re awake! Let’s get you some more medicine. Nurse, can you get me a glass of water?”
A female nurse nods curtly and walks away from us.
I try to sit up. The doctor assists me by raising my bed. I notice I’m in a hospital gown and what appears to be an open area of a medical facility of some sort. It’s odd though; I can see the waiting room. And the door to the Exit.
I examine my body. I can wiggle my toes, and I don’t appear to be injured. Aside from a faint headache, I’m completely fine and totally lucid. I’m beyond lucid, actually – I’m hyper aware of myself and my surroundings, wide-eyed and clueless as to what the fuck is happening.
The female nurse comes back with a glass of water and some pills, and urges me to take them and lie back down. I refuse.
“What’s going on? Why am I here? I feel perfectly fine,” I ask frantically.
The female nurse smiles and says nothing, then walks away. Everyone here is smiling.
A male nurse approaches me and pokes me in my upper right arm with something sharp. “You’ve agreed to donate this. I’ll just numb it for you,” he informs me.
“Donate my arm? When did I agree to that? What the fuck is happening?”
He pricks me in my arm again, drawing blood. It appears that he’s holding a hooked needle of some sort; it reminds me of something I’ve seen at the dentist. “Calm down, ma’am.”
“You can’t have my arm,” I insist. The male nurse gives me a blank stare, gets up, and walks away.
I look to my right and everyone in the waiting room is calm. I don’t see anyone I recognize. But again I notice the Exit door. They’re those sliding glass doors that open automatically, and I see people walking in and out. Mostly old people.
Through the glass doors, I can see the parking lot, and in the back row, I can see my car. I must’ve driven here, but why?
To my left, I see bodies. Upon further inspection, I notice a woman applying makeup to a corpse.
The doctor comes back, and she’s talking to me but I don’t hear what she’s saying. Something about this being my time to go, and that I’ve chosen this path.
“I need my keys. Give me my keys; I need to get out of here.”
The doctor walks away, and a female receptionist approaches me, with my keys in her hand. “I was planning on keeping your car, ma’am. I was next in line to get a car.”
“You can have my car – I swear to God I’ll bring it back. I don’t want to be here anymore. Just let me leave!!”
The doctor returns with a clipboard and a pen. “Sign here,” she instructs.
I don’t read what I’m signing, I just sign.
“I swear to God I’ll bring my car back as soon as possible,” I assure the receptionist.
She hands me my keys, smiles and nods curtly, and then walks away.
I look up at the doctor. “You’re free to go,” she says.
I blast through the door into the waiting room, where no one flinches or looks up at my presence. Not like I would’ve noticed them anyway. My thoughts are racing. I’m still in a hospital gown, and I have no idea where my purse is, or where I am, or how I got here or why, but I don't care; I'll figure that shit out later.
I have only one thing to do: get to my car and get the fuck out of here.