Klavier wrote:
the dark, undisturbed silence is comforting. the pain is present, yet distant enough from my mind for it to be forgotten entirely. it's reminiscent of closing a door on a group of ravenous reporters and their endlessly flashing cameras. floating here, in the narrow slit between life and death, i can breathe.
but i'd be a fool to think i could stay here. the earth has yet to stop spinning, the world goes on, and i have a choice to make. to delve deeper into the soothing darkness, where i'll be guaranteed to stay, never to see light again... or to open these heavy eyelids, lift my head up with a dazzling smile and face the rest of the life i've made for myself...? what would i find on either end? would anyone be waiting for me on the other side? if i were to die here and now, wherever and whenever that is, would anyone miss me? would anyone truly mourn for the loss of a man they knew and loved, or would it be nothing but yet another newspaper headline? tears would be shed, for sure, but they wouldn't be falling for me. they would be falling for the superficial me that the world as a whole sees. as these thoughts swirl around in my head, i seem to fall further and further from the cold, intimidating light . . .
i never get to make that choice after all. with an abrupt gasp, my eyes jerk open, though they only remain that way for a split second before the blinding white light that i've found myself engulfed in forces them to be shut once again. i groan, raising my right hand in an attempt to rub the pain away, only to find a much greater pain overwhelming the area surrounding my right shoulder. my breath hitches, followed by a sharp hiss. ach, where am i? while my eyes are starting to adjust to the blinding surroundings, i hear the sound of a door opening.
"you're awake."
with a struggle, i turn my heavy head to lay gaze upon the source of the deep and strangely reassuring voice. a man in a white coat is approaching me, though he isn't looking at me. under thick, furrowed brows, his dark eyes are instead glued to the clipboard in his left hand as the other flips through the sheets of paper clipped to it.
i instinctively let my mouth fall open, as i know i should always be quick with a witty response, but a second passes before i close it again with the realization that i don't know what to say. this man is clearly a doctor, and i don't need my law degree to figure out that im currently in a hospital room.
"how are you feeling?" the mans eyes finally meet mine, and he provides me with the tiniest hint of a kind smile. how am i feeling? that doesn't really matter to me right now. i just need to find out what's going on here.
i try my best to sit up a bit straighter without letting the pain show too much on my face. "herr doctor, i'm sorry, but... why am i here? what happened?"
the doctor frowns, lowering the clipboard-holding hand with a gentle sigh. "you were, uh... you were hit, mr. gavin. by a potato."
those words seem to kick my brain into action, although just a little bit. i remember... the fragrance of oil... a lively atmosphere... deep, blue eyes... "where?"
"hm?"
"w-where...? where did the potato... hit me?"
the doctor hesitates. why can't he just tell me? "bitte, herr doctor, just tell m-"
"the klaviericle."
my words are stunned back into my mouth. no, surely not... it can't be... but a quick glance down at my gorgeous body in its currently fragile state seems to confirm the truth i don't wanna believe. my right shoulder and collarbone area is encased in bandaging. i let out a shaky huff. "t-tell me you're joking, herr doctor." but herr doctor says nothing as his look of sad pity tells me more than enough.