Off them

I woke up in a daze. Puffs of smoke flew each time I took a breath. Vision feeling blurry. Eyes nearly shutting. Drugs could never acknowledge me. I felt like I was stuck in a trap. I knew that this day would come for me. I'd been overdosing. I don't wanna face reality. I could barely even remember the fucking dream. All I knew was there were no enemies, inside that perfect world. I let out one last puff then blacked out. I woke up on a stretcher. A group of people carried me carefully into the car where they laid me down. My fingers twitched then I blacked out again. I heard quick steps around me. I managed to slightly open my eyes. I looked around and saw a doctor pacing back and forth from this room to another until he saw me. He stared in shock as he looked at the heart rate monitor. He struggled to talk and instead sprinted to the other room. I could hear him scream, "He's alive, that means our experiment of quick reanimation is a success!". He led 5 other doctors into the room and pointed at the monitor. "It's still low but theres actually a chance, if it works them we'll go down in history for reanimation!", "Then we can begin to extend the deadline until point of no return!". They all cheered and then he looked at me, "Hey consider yourself lucky, the experiment was a success". I didn't know what to feel. Was I lucky or not. Thankful or something else. I'd felt like this before. What was it. Before my thoughts could end I blacked out for a bit. I woke up still on the hospital bed. A nurse entered and said, "You'll be discharged from here in a month and a half because of the rebirths side effects, and then you'll be sent into reformation". I'd heard of that. It was to get off from drugs. Apparently it was a dog pile where people fought eachother for fun, where the mad people lived. It was a scary thought. Which was quickly washed off by me falling asleep. The next day, I had to be fed through a tube since I couldn't move because of the drugs and reanimation. My vision was also slightly blurred so I couldn't watch the TV across the room. A week passed and I could slightly move my arms. 2 weeks went by and my vision returned. Three weeks passed and I could breathe without as much difficulty. a month passed and I could freely move my arms and could sit up and eat by myself. Another week went by and I could move my legs freely. Another week went by and I had a day until I could be discharged from the hospital. Before that I thanked the doctors for reviving me. The next day came and I went back home. Soon enough I was to be picked up and sent to the rehabilitation center. I made sure to leave my tablet so that it didn't break and instead trained my punches to prepare myself. While I wasn't looking forward to the process, I was happy about what the end result would be. I could get off them.