The Daily Post: Grit

When you wake up with tubes all around and you see the needle inside your skin even when it’s covered in a plaster, you suddenly think that this is one of those modern YA novels where one dies and a loved one suffer or changes his or her life due to death. But you realize it really isn’t the case cause you’re alone and there’s no one to visit you because no one knows what happened to you.

You have been silent from everybody and everything. You have updated your social media accounts like there is nothing wrong because you do not want anybody to worry. You message certain people that you want to meet up, scared that they may say yes and you have no choice but to invite them into the four corners of a white-walled room with an awful smell. Funny enough everybody’s busy for you and that they know you’re pretty busy too. And then one day they invite you out for a drink. Luckily, you’re out and okay, just okay. So you say yes. Even if you hate to go out with people. You say yes because you have to, because you have to be out there and let them see how okay you are. Like nothing happened.

You smile and laugh like everything is normal. And then this one person comes and pulls your wrist and looks at you sadly. Your heartbeat becomes louder and faster as if you were caught stealing a candy from the store. You follow that person silently to avoid causing any trouble for your company. That person leads you outside and into a cab and off you go in a merry go round the town.

As if that person knows everything going on, he or she pays the bill, pays the driver to just drive around for hours. The person beside you pulls down the window to let the wind catch up on your face because he or she knows how you love just that. You cannot recognize who it is exactly, because he or she is wearing a large hood and a mask. So you just enjoy the ride. The cab stops and the driver says it’s time to go. You stepped outside and you find yourself in front of the hospital where you were admitted just a few days ago. You started to cry and you wanted to hit the person who led you there. But then he or she hugs you tight and brushes his or her fingers on your hair. Your knees become weak you can hardly breathe. Once again, suffocated by the unknown.


The alarm rings and you’re awake. In a strange bed. You grit your teeth with anger.


One thought on “The Daily Post: Grit

  1. Pingback: Author Interview – Kait Moon – “Pain Eater: A Memoir” (Poetry & Prose) | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s