by garland middleton
Iâ€™m lying in bed and my perspective is that of one point. I am stuck. I am moaning and all I hear are the neighbors next door. Moaning. Joyously. While I am here with my dog throwing up next to me and my head exploding with infectious mucus and the phone has fallen on the ground far away-too far to reach. Am I dying? Iâ€™m dying. What is that light-that bright orange light coming from my front door? What the fuck is that light doing on? Did I turn it on? Is that even a normal light or is someone shining a flashlight in on me. The worldâ€™s biggest, brightest flashlight is shining on me, the thing is huge and brother believe it is bright. I must be dying. Years later Iâ€™ll look back at this, yes I will still be alive because I, in fact am not dying, and I will say wow, that was some infection. Everything is so distorted through the fever that I am carrying. The flames of this disease are taking over my mind, my spinal cord. I go to the doctor a few days later and she literally says holy shit when she looks up my nose to see blood and neon green mucus. Meningitis she says. Oh fuck thatâ€™s why Iâ€™m in such a bad mood. My mom thinks Iâ€™m rebelling but Iâ€™m not, Iâ€™m just tired and shit ma, I got meningitis. You should be saying how much you love me, saying your good byes. This is it mom, Iâ€™m dying. Youâ€™re not dying dear. What? I am. The doc says Iâ€™m dying. No dear, she says you could have gotten close to death, howâ€™s your back feel? It fucking hurts I have fucking meningitis whatâ€™d you think? Shit I never cleaned up my dogs throw up-itâ€™s just sitting there drying in the floor; the floor of my â€œone bed-roomâ€ shit ainâ€™t a one bedroom. More like a studio. And what the fuck was that bright light? I never got that answered.