Curtain

WRITTEN BY PATIENT #85

As you are reading this, try and hold your breath. This won't take too long.

As you are holding in your breath, remember the lively days you have gone through, ever since you had your very first breath upon your arrival on this wide strange world. Remember the fun times you've been through, and the bad times you've faced.

I was in this hospital here for a specific reason, something I have yet to come full terms with, for I have always been a skptic. Yet I soon came to realization that it is solely connected to the distortion of the reality I see with my eyes.

The bed I was in: fairly comfortable. The air in this room: refreshing enough. The curtains that were on both sides of my window:

Unbearable to the bone.

No matter what day, what time, or how the wind was, I just couldn't get the curtains to close. It's like they had a mind of its own. One day after I attempted to open them wide to release the sunlight, they refused to open up, and I sweared at it, mocked it, tried to denounce it as if it was a living creature.

It's edges grabbed me by the face, wrapping myself in its material all the way to my neck, my Adam's apple feeling a bit tingly from the fabric. Though the curtains were white, I could feel my vision going slowly black.

Had I insult in some way? Had I, the ever flawed human being, caused some form of harm in the same way people disturb others or perhaps other living creatures? I could never know the answer as I began to lose my breath, and my vision.

You can breath out now.