PuristLove
Bluelighter
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- Dec 11, 2000
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Read the first and second parts of the story at http://www.bluelight.ru/ubb/Forum11/HTML/002199.html?reload=1
and at http://www.bluelight.ru/ubb/Forum11/HTML/002218.html?reload=2
Jason's Suicide
By Eric West
Jason lay still, staring at the ceiling counting the tiles. White tiles that had been counted hundreds of times by him, and thousands of times by others who had lain there before him. He was in a room in White Creek Mental Health Facility, on a hall know by the workers as The Hopeless Ward.
For five years he had stared at that ceiling, only speaking if spoken too. Barely eating, never participating in the activities that the others did. He didn't fingerpaint and he didn't watch television. His refusal to share in group had so frustrated the administration that they no longer even required him to meet with his psychologist.
Jason was mentally ill by choice. Clinging to hatred deep inside him and refusing to let it go. But they couldn't know that, all they knew was that they had a young man who had once shown tremendous promise academically. A young man who used his higher math powers to count ceiling tiles.
54...55...56
A knock on the door interrupted him. A young male aid new to the hospital smiled at him, "Time for your medication buddy."
Jason laid there. He said nothing.
"C'mon, lets go pal," the aid took a step towards him. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder as if to help him rise.
Jason brushed the hand away and stood up on his own, "Fuck off, I'm coming."
They marched down the long white corridor, Jason staring blankly ahead. When they reached the end of the hall they turned a sharp right into a room with a television and several couches. Two women sat at a checker board and an old man was watching TV, silently drooling on himself.
Jason was given a cup of water and another smaller cup with two pills in it. He swallowed the pills, which he usually hid under his tongue and downed his water.
The orderly walked with him back down the hall. "Can I have another cup of water?" Jason's voice shocked the orderly and caused him to jump.
"Sure you can. Wait right here," the aide said shakily.
Jason carried the cup of water down the hallway, trying not to spill a single drop. He would need all of it.
The aide did not enter Jason's room. Jason sat himself down in front of the door and pulled his pants down. There was a large lump in his briefs. He opened the fold and removed what amounted to a handful of pills. Pills he had been saving for a long time.
Jason popped several of them in his mouth, he almost gagged but with a sip of water he managed to get them down. Waiting several minutes for his stomach to settle he took a few more. He wished for some bread to help him keep them down but that wasn't going to happen.
Within fifteen minutes Jason had consumed all of the pills, he emptied the cup of water and stumbled over to his bed to lay down. The powerful sedatives were already taking effect.
Over the next five minutes Jason's heart went from racing to a full stop and then back to racing again. Jason got a little scared, this wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
In a panic he shoved his fingers down his throat. He retched and retched but the only thing that came up was some yellow and blue colored liquid.
Someone in the hallways heard the retching and called for help. In a matter of minutes two nurses showed up and immediately guessed what had happened.
Jason's bed was wheeled down the hall while someone else dialed for help. People from the medical part of the hospital were there very quickly. They placed Jason's now limp and lifeless body on a gurney and wheeled him through the halls of White Creek.
Jason fought to keep his eyes open. A tube was shoved down his throat. Medical staff worked relentlessly. They watched on a monitor as Jason's heart rate continued to slow down.
Jason closed his eyes. A gentle peace came over him and he realized the futility of fighting. What was done was done.
The onlookers saw him take one last breathe and then he was gone. His heart flat lined. No one even bothered trying to resuscitate him. They had been about fifteen years to late to save this man.
------------------
Intelligence is not best measured by the answers you have but by the questions that you ask
and at http://www.bluelight.ru/ubb/Forum11/HTML/002218.html?reload=2
Jason's Suicide
By Eric West
Jason lay still, staring at the ceiling counting the tiles. White tiles that had been counted hundreds of times by him, and thousands of times by others who had lain there before him. He was in a room in White Creek Mental Health Facility, on a hall know by the workers as The Hopeless Ward.
For five years he had stared at that ceiling, only speaking if spoken too. Barely eating, never participating in the activities that the others did. He didn't fingerpaint and he didn't watch television. His refusal to share in group had so frustrated the administration that they no longer even required him to meet with his psychologist.
Jason was mentally ill by choice. Clinging to hatred deep inside him and refusing to let it go. But they couldn't know that, all they knew was that they had a young man who had once shown tremendous promise academically. A young man who used his higher math powers to count ceiling tiles.
54...55...56
A knock on the door interrupted him. A young male aid new to the hospital smiled at him, "Time for your medication buddy."
Jason laid there. He said nothing.
"C'mon, lets go pal," the aid took a step towards him. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder as if to help him rise.
Jason brushed the hand away and stood up on his own, "Fuck off, I'm coming."
They marched down the long white corridor, Jason staring blankly ahead. When they reached the end of the hall they turned a sharp right into a room with a television and several couches. Two women sat at a checker board and an old man was watching TV, silently drooling on himself.
Jason was given a cup of water and another smaller cup with two pills in it. He swallowed the pills, which he usually hid under his tongue and downed his water.
The orderly walked with him back down the hall. "Can I have another cup of water?" Jason's voice shocked the orderly and caused him to jump.
"Sure you can. Wait right here," the aide said shakily.
Jason carried the cup of water down the hallway, trying not to spill a single drop. He would need all of it.
The aide did not enter Jason's room. Jason sat himself down in front of the door and pulled his pants down. There was a large lump in his briefs. He opened the fold and removed what amounted to a handful of pills. Pills he had been saving for a long time.
Jason popped several of them in his mouth, he almost gagged but with a sip of water he managed to get them down. Waiting several minutes for his stomach to settle he took a few more. He wished for some bread to help him keep them down but that wasn't going to happen.
Within fifteen minutes Jason had consumed all of the pills, he emptied the cup of water and stumbled over to his bed to lay down. The powerful sedatives were already taking effect.
Over the next five minutes Jason's heart went from racing to a full stop and then back to racing again. Jason got a little scared, this wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
In a panic he shoved his fingers down his throat. He retched and retched but the only thing that came up was some yellow and blue colored liquid.
Someone in the hallways heard the retching and called for help. In a matter of minutes two nurses showed up and immediately guessed what had happened.
Jason's bed was wheeled down the hall while someone else dialed for help. People from the medical part of the hospital were there very quickly. They placed Jason's now limp and lifeless body on a gurney and wheeled him through the halls of White Creek.
Jason fought to keep his eyes open. A tube was shoved down his throat. Medical staff worked relentlessly. They watched on a monitor as Jason's heart rate continued to slow down.
Jason closed his eyes. A gentle peace came over him and he realized the futility of fighting. What was done was done.
The onlookers saw him take one last breathe and then he was gone. His heart flat lined. No one even bothered trying to resuscitate him. They had been about fifteen years to late to save this man.
------------------
Intelligence is not best measured by the answers you have but by the questions that you ask
