I'm Sick (Grasping Knowledge)
Staring dimly at the mirror in front of me, I began to laugh.
God, I look horrible now. Hair falling from my head, blood everywhere- what a mess. I'm sorry for the poor devil who'll have to clean all of this up later...
Vaguely staring at the doctor's diagnosis stuck onto the glass with duct tape, I raised a bloodied finger on the few lines printed on the piece of paper that contained the details of my condition. I giggled uncontrollably. Who would have known that it was so? Who wouldn't have?
It's almost as if I could see that vein pouring more and more of that unexpected crimson fluid into my grey matter. It doesn't hurt much, no, not really. It's not that it's unwanted- letting my oh-so parched brain drink up its fill.
Feeling blood flowing softly towards my eyes, I sighed. I didn't even think of wiping it away. It didn't matter. My eyes... They needed moistening, did they not?
I stare once more at the mirror, knowing I am soon to die...
Glancing at the bone and flesh I had in my hand, I shuddered. THIS is what I have in my body? This? THIS? Such a lovely shade of red!
I smooth the unprotected neurons on the top of my head and yank on them hard.
{ First posted on Fictionpress. }
