Notes

The story
Deja Vu
I don’t remember anything of what happened, nor did I know where I was. As I slowly dragged my eyelids open, a beam of light flashed annoyingly in my eyes, as if the sun was in my vision.
“Aghh!” I yelled, only to hear the echo of my own voice travel like a plane through the air around my room. Except, this was not my room. I had no idea what it was, the walls, cream paper torn down on the right with bloody handprints smeared down the side. I bounced on the awfully uncomfortable bed, as it shrieked and squeaked to the motion. A scent of weird, bitter cheese went through my nostrils making me gag even at the thought. This was most certainly not home, and definitely not school.
The air was freezing and my fine arm hairs stood up like soldiers as my teeth chattered constantly. I peered down, noticing a long tube connected to my hands, with a sticky yellow liquid swimming through. Aggressively, I tore the tube out of my skin, watching my deep red blood flow out.

Perplexed, I lifted my body out of the bed and heard my feat slap against the ice cold floor. Imagine stepping into Alaska with a bathing suit on. A long eerie shiver spiralled down my spine. I trotted over to the door, “room 101” it labelled. I slowly opened the door, the rusted metal creaking as I pushed it further. I looked at my old gown that I was wearing, no label, no name, just pure grey. I heard nothing, except from a faint squeal. It was coming from the corridor on the right, so my curious instincts pulled me down the old hall. I hadn’t a clue of where I was, maybe a hospital, or a mental hospital as I had suffered for most of my life with brain conditions. Maybe I was in for an appointment, or i just dissociated. That’s what my schizophrenia does to me. I zone out and then see things that aren’t real.

Anyway, as I’m walking, I feel my body pledging through something. I realise that it’s blood. My own, thick, ruby blood. I had stood on some sort of scalpel or tool you would find in an operation room. However, I didn’t feel my foot slice open, so when I took a glance my foot was sliced to the bone. I didn’t care, I was normally clumsy from what my brain tells me, however my brain is keeping something from me, and that is my identity. I remember my mum and my sister, but not my own name or my age. Mother told me that there was something wrong with me, but then it hit me. I can remember a loud beeping noise and my mother weeping. I felt somebody throw a blanket over me and I was carried away, but to where, here?

I could still hear the weeping, so I ran faster and faster until the noise was louder, coming from the operation room. Nobody was there, but I wondered if it was somebody outside the building, or maybe everyone went to dinner or some moment like that. I curiously opened the door, and right in the middle, was a large bed. Brain tools, medication, bandages the lot was scattered around, floating in a pool of blood, that same yellow liquid in my arm and clear gel.

As my heart was beating faster, I couldn’t resist, so I peered over the bed and then… my face went pale, my head felt empty and my ears buzzed like a blue bottle trapped inside. It was me. My dead corpse lying on the bed in room 101. I am dead.