Depressed to the max.

After a drug overdose, Michaela was rushed to the hospital. This is her first day experience.

The sound of a forcefully opened curtain woke me up from a restful sleep. It was the curtain leading to my tiny body attached to machines I can not name and drips filled with medication intended to save my life. My blepharon slowly opened and met a wide eyed big headed man accompanied by a nurse.

"What did you do to yourself?" He said. "Did you want to kill yourself?" He asked. There was a moment of silence while he observed me; probably estimating my age. "How old are you?" He asked. Like a puppy about to inhale its last breath, I gave a soft and weak reply, " I'm 20, turning 21". Looking like he is in a hurry, he signs a document which was on top of a big chart the nurses use to record things I am unfamiliar with and tells the nurse to talk to me." Maybe she will open up to you", he said.

The events leading to my tiny body being connected to an ECG machine and the thing that tightly squeezes my arm to measure my blood pressure every now and then are remembered quite vividly by my brain that can hardly store any Auditing concepts.

I woke up in my res bed very weak and emotionally empty. This wasn't the first time I have had that feeling, but previously I had a bottle of red wine, Merlot to be specific, that made me feel better. This time there was nothing but a pile of pills for depression, anxiety and the ever evil flu. They were the only consumable substance that could suppress the worthlessness I felt.

One by one I emptied the sachets. First the Zoplax, meant for anxiety, they were blue in color and round; the Lexamil, meant for depression, they were white in color and round; then the yellow round tablets for flu, " for runny nose", the doctor had said to me when she gave them to me; and lastly the common brown syrup that everyone gets from their doctor for coughs.

All the tablets fit into my tiny hand, while some fell to the floor. In one go I swallowed them all and used water to pass them through. But honestly, I had a plan. I was gonna swallow those pills, call someone and then spend a day or two in hospital, so that I wouldn't be around the school environment; get some fresh air. I thought it was going to be as simple as that. But I was wrong.

The school nurses were at res in no time and an ambulance was called immediately. My blood pressure was so low that the paramedics were scared that I might have gotten into a coma. I started to panic and it was only when they placed me in ICU that what I had done hit me.

Two hours later my father, who has very little money to spare, was standing in front of me asking me how I feel. He looked worried. An anxiety patient himself, I knew a lot was going through his mind. He just looked at me lay there, unable to say much. He had come with a woman he met on the taxi to the hospital as this place was very foreign to him.

When the lady left, after giving me her numbers and a false promise to visit, my father began to talk again. I was so scared that he might shout at me or even go into depression himself.

"Are you failing? Are you pregnant? Did anyone hurt you?" He asked. " If you failed we will make a plan and pay your fees," he said. "Talk to me... I was very shocked to get that call from your friend. I told him to call the ambulance immediately..." He went on and on about how he could have gotten lost if he hadn't had that lady that just followed as he doesn't know the area well.

When he finally left, stressing about where he will find the taxi home in this disorganized place. He left me with a tear drop, will I forever forgive myself for the trouble I put him in?

But the most scary question that kept bothering my mind was ' Will I make it out of here alive?'

Author's Note

Be as critical as possible.

Reviews

[Glen Weimann]

OK Rami, well first thing, I found it pretty gripping. I read to the end and I'm curious to know what happens next. But you ask for criticism, and I shall try and do so constructively
- I think your first sentence is clunky; it's obviously important to get this right. I get that some strange guy who is seemingly a doctor snatches the curtain aside, but I think you could use more illustrative emotive wording, e.g. snatched or ripped instead of forcefully opened. Also I don't buy that this was some restful sleep. My guess is this was a blackness into which your soul or subconscious or whatever had taken 'you'. After all, 'you' took a handful of pills for a reason borne from despair, depression, etc so 'restful sleep' sounds lame. Oblivion?
- I like 'machines I can not name' though most folk would have 'cannot'
- I have no idea what a blepharon is; for that matter I also don't know what a res bed is
- You switch tenses in the same para (he observed ... I gave ... he signs). It feels to me like present tense works better but that call might depend on what comes later
- Where on earth did 'Auditing concepts' come from??? Whoa!! By all means introduce field left content but it should have some context fairly soon afterwards.
- I think para 4 which leads into the pill-taking is a bit light and doesn't say very much at all about the state of mind 'you' were in. Either add more history and reasons, or use stronger more emotive vocabulary
- All the tablets fitted would be the past tense if you then use 'fell'. As noted above, I prefer 'fit' and 'fall'
- Is there some reason to mention the water to wash down the tablets? I'd suggest it's superfluous and gets in the way of the flow
- I personally don't like 'gonna'; this 'you' sounds quite articulate and educated and might rather say 'going to'
- I think you slip between a couple of styles in places. For example 'the school nurses were there in no time and an ambulance was called' is observational detached prose; in my view it's not the sort of prose a pill-taker seeking attention would use. That 'you' would probably be angry that the bloody nurses had for once come quickly and very untrue to usual form had quickly summoned an ambulance.
- The father looking worried? Hhmmm. How? What d'you see? Is he racked with anxiety, is he crying, sweating, etc etc.
- I don't think the lady could give 'you' phone numbers as you're all wired up with drips etc. You say she has no real intent to stay in contact but you give no reason at all for that. If she looked glad to drop off 'your' father and get the hell away asap then fine, but you don't say so.
- What does 'he left me with a teardrop' actually mean??? Did he put it in a glass on the bedside table? Forgive the quip, but if the guy's on the verge of tears as he leaves, then say so.
- Will I forever forgive myself for the trouble I put him in? I think you mean 'will I ever ...'

I like the last sentence a lot, but again it has a mix of tenses with 'was' immediately followed by 'will'

Final point - I think the term 'depression' is a very tricky one to work with, as I understand it to be a clinical condition more than 'just' a mental one. You may have personal experience or close knowledge of this, but my advice would be to tread carefully to avoid mis-using the 'd' word.

OK so that's lots of fairly critical comments as you requested. But I hope you can see suggested ways to address them. As always, as the writer, feel free to disagree if you feel I've missed the point, just not 'got it' etc. But to say again, I found it gripping, and I'm curious to see where it goes.

Regards
Nigel

[nakisha]

Solid content in the beginning of the story, kept the reading going although near the end when you put the father into the story, I felt a lack of build for the fathers character, instead of saying how he is poor and has anxiety I would put something in there that describes how he looks, (shaggy cloths, yellow teeth no left sock lol idk) something that gives him the appearance, then do the same thing for your main character (paint a picture or your characters)