Morphine & Bright Lights Like 0 Twitter Derra Sabo Follow Aug. 1, 2016, 10:49 p.m. in Life and Styles Views: 594 Like us on facebook 65 mph... standing while gripping the silver pole in the middle of a hustling metro. Phased by thoughts slamming my brain, my brokenness once again taunting my contentment, 2 hours and 30 minutes until the bright lights illuminate on my knocked out body. Warm bodies passing by as lyrical morphine pumps through my silently trembling veins. "Sunset Boulevard" blares on the subway speaker, size 6 1/2 feet step off the redline and travel up the escalator into the blinding sun. Just two blocks over stands the enormous building that is about to imprison this damaged stitch. The smell of medical grade bleach burns my nostrils as the automatic doors futuristically swoosh open. Men and women stylin' white coats with their names embroidered on the left side buzz from room to room checking on what I am soon to be once again, a patient. The up arrow glows as the elevator stops at the third floor. Sign in... sit down... wait. Wait until my name is prominently called to come to room #7 to change into blue scrubs. Frozen air blasts through the vents causing every Goosebumps of mine to turn a light shade of purple. An empty stomach growls at me to feed it, but empty it must remain. Stiff chairs lined in rows and a television on the south wall. As I impatiently sit and wait for my time to run out, in taking every note of morphine my ears can take, I begin to feel nauseous. A man in scrubs comes up to me, begins to run down the steps of what's about to happen and finishes by asking if I would like a relaxant to calm my nerves. I decline as I always do for I once took that so called relaxer and all that it made me do was involuntarily puke it out. A world that I thought I had left long ago was ever more present. 5... 4... 3... 2...1... hug my Ma' and onto the operating table I go. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine." is spoken from a kind face while the face from earlier begins to slowly count backwards along with me. A fuzzy numbness rushes down as the bright lights hovering above my soon to be knocked out body fade along with the mask covered faces surrounding.... Published by Derra Sabo Share Mail Messenger Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Comments Related Article Life and Styles DEAR WOMEN Life and Styles Escape from the BS Life and Styles It Is Still August Right?