Alrighty! scream
Hi. whee
Uhm, I never make journal entries. But maybe I should! It's kinda nifty.
So... this is just a RP sample I've been thinking about. Comment if you darest.
Hi. whee
Uhm, I never make journal entries. But maybe I should! It's kinda nifty.
So... this is just a RP sample I've been thinking about. Comment if you darest.
Sources
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/test-forum/don-t-post-my-kai-ryuken-bio/t.10572434/
http://www.helpguide.org/mental/post_traumatic_stress_disorder_symptoms_treatment.htm
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/test-forum/don-t-post-my-kai-ryuken-bio/t.10572434/
http://www.helpguide.org/mental/post_traumatic_stress_disorder_symptoms_treatment.htm
The hospital was enameled and adorning the blank, unforgiving walls were petty condolences. A painting hung to add cheer, flowers and cards from the nurses and orderlies, soft colored curtains. Even the doctors with their pristine white coats and fake smiles saying, "How are you feeling?" Without even knowing your name. The self-righteous, contemptuous tones they speak, their words putting forth the complications of your disorder, your illness in its truest colors - never meant to be understood by someone as dull as you. In their harsh, white world the doctors are razor sharp like the scalpels they brandish with such unnerving accuracy, and you are just another number. One more paycheck. Louise hates the doctors. The doctors that couldn't save her sister from the wrath of seeping brain sickness. Not of her own, no. Of the one of the patients, to who she was so dedicated. Nancy spent her life giving. Loving strangers. Passionate as she was she met a demise unsuited.
"Why did she have to die?" Louise sobbed, and clutched the bedsheets at her sides, the crisp, white cloth constricting and constraining her seemed. This floor of the hospital was dedicated to the insane. Those whose sickness is rooted in the pulsing darkness of their thoughts, the deepest confounds of the mind. Every night, when sleep evaded and desperation set in, Louise could hear the cries of her neighbors. Her comrades.
"I'm not crazy!" She had screamed to one of the nurses the first day of her 'safekeeping'.
"It'll be okay, hon. We know. Just stay a couple days and recover." What was meant as a reassuring pat felt like a heavy misery forcing her down, down...
Awaking in a cold sweat to the memory of the blood, oh the blood, Louise called for her sister, as a child seeking comfort. The painful cognizance flooded her. She watched the fat drops of blood roll off her fingers into the growing puddles spreading across the ceramic floors again. Her vision was blurring with guilty tears, her body was heavy again again again. She felt it all again. To keep herself from crying out, from becoming a slave to the seething brain sickness, she shoved her hands to her mouth. The thick bandages around her wrists brushed her skin. The heat of shame flowed out from those gentle touches, like blood, again, covering everything. Everything. She fell back unto the pillow. At which point had she sat up? What would Nancy say now, seeing her little sister like this? Pathetic. The night crew nurses were milling around outside, seeing to electronic beeps, looking in on patients. The hospital had fallen into a state of calm, exaggerating Louise's frenzy. She rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut and listened. They hadn't noticed.
"I heard he got diagnosed. Finally!"
"With what?"
"I don't know. Pete was saying something about PTSD."
"But that doesn't explain the violence! He's scary. I wish they'd hurry and send away..."
The gossipy nurses trotted off to see to some menial work. Louise exhaled loudly. Are they talking about...?
"Guess what Wheezy? I made a friend today. His name is Kai. He's a patient at the hospital."
"He'll just die like the others."
"Now now Wheezy. No need to be mean. He's a different kind."
Louise heard Nancy's recollection of the mysterious Kai Ryuken, war vet, scary, replayed in her head. She feigned indifference at the time but she worried nonstop for her sister. Saw her off everyday, welcomed her home every night. Until she didn't come home...
"Louise?" A doctor was looking at her through the door.
"That's me..." Her voice couldn't have been more venomous.
"I'm very sorry for your loss. We all lament Nan--"
"I don't want to hear it!"
He was silent, looking at her with hard, pitying eyes. She wanted to hit him. Jump up and push him around, scream at the top of her voice. But to what avail? She has no strength anyway. So she just returned his gaze, with all the hatred she could muster.
"Louise." He began again. "I'm Doctor Crow. I'd like to ask a favor..."
4laugh
What do you think?!
