In the Hospital Afterwards

January 15, 2011
By EmilyGram BRONZE, Simpsonville, South Carolina
EmilyGram BRONZE, Simpsonville, South Carolina
2 articles 0 photos 73 comments

Favorite Quote:
"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt."
Sylvia Plath


I smooth out my brain on paper, but it’s all too jumbled still, crinkled and messy like the swirling I see when I shut my eyes. I can’t unfold what I just saw, and the blood is smeared across the page. I close my eyes and fall. I open them. I try, try to remove the creases, but now my fingers fall on her gaze. And I can’t help her, and it’s so crumpled, and the blood stains, permanent and unforgiving.

I can’t unfold my heart. I can’t dream of that yet. It’s knotted in my chest and so churned it might be liquid now. But my brain – maybe I can smooth my brain.

I see her gaze now, but now it pleads no longer. Now it’s empty. I smother my fists across the page, but can’t erase. I shut my eyes and fall. I open them. I’m lost, exhausted, but I know if I can only remember. My fingers desperately seek to smooth the page as my will probes my mind, urgently, for answers.

And now it’s there, in the corner. I smooth out the fastened grip that holds me still, and I can’t help her because this tragically strong grip holds me still, and I foresee the blood. Now my fingers find the tears in the creases. And they unfold all my strength fighting, fighting this grip. I think I unfolded some of my heart just now.

My hand races across the ever smoother page and I stare desperately through teary windows. Now I see her pleading gaze and now black. I walk out easily, so easily, but she is still there. I fall. I open them. Now I discover light again, red light. And the blur noise, the noise that blurs and blurs, and was there anyone else with you in the car. I fall.

I smooth again. My arm has blood and it drips and sticks to the paper too. But then she drifts off into their red lights and that grip holds me too tight so all I see is her gaze empty now, and my hands smear the blood across the page, the napkin, your mother is here to see you now.


The author's comments:
I can’t unfold what I just saw, and the blood is smeared across the page.

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This article has 3 comments.


PJD17 SILVER said...
on Mar. 18 2011 at 5:49 pm
PJD17 SILVER, Belleville, Illinois
8 articles 0 photos 624 comments

Favorite Quote:
I do the best imatation of myself- Ben Folds

Very Good! i really like the unique style it is written in

on Jan. 18 2011 at 5:12 pm
EmilyGram BRONZE, Simpsonville, South Carolina
2 articles 0 photos 73 comments

Favorite Quote:
"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt."
Sylvia Plath

Thank you for your comment! Yes the narrator is attempting to piece together her memories of the car accident.

on Jan. 18 2011 at 3:27 pm
e.c.frances BRONZE, Simpsonville, South Carolina
4 articles 0 photos 7 comments
This is great! I love your use of the stream of conciousness. Is it about a car accident?


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