Punk's Not Dead
Life Is Pain
"You're friend…she's in rough shape. I'll take you to the hospital where we have had her admitted. I don't know if she will be out of surgery yet…but let's go!" Rotten followed me and we sat in silence in the back seat of the police cruiser. This is not how I imagined that I would be sitting here. No, maybe for other reasons like robbery, battery, assault or something…but not this. We arrived at the hospital, thanked the cop and made our way inside…not too sure what to find.
As we made our way through both sets of automatic doors, we were greeted by the sickly, yet clean smell of the hospital. My hand instantly met Rotten's in a deathly grasp. We exchanged a look as we walked solemnly to the reception desk. The nurse behind the desk seemed stressed, and you could tell the stress had taken it's toll on her during her hard years in the hospital. She couldn't have been older than thirty, but the wrinkles on her face and her quickly greying hair, made her seem much older than she really was. She looked up from her computer screen and a hesitant smile bore her lips. "Can I help you?" Her voice was soft and kind. "M-Maxigan Richardson's room…please?" My own voice came out rough and broken. Her face dropped instantly. "Uhm…let me call the doctor down." She then picked up the receiver from the wall and dialled a number, suddenly her voice could be heard on the intercom. "Doctor Sven to the front office, please. Doctor Sven." Her voice was calm, but I could sense the tension in the air, as though an electric current were searing through me. I grasped onto Rotten's hand even harder, but he didn't seem to mind, he only returned the squeeze and then wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the doctor, a man who seemed to be in his early 50's with a gentle looking face and small spectacles, wearing his scrubs and doctor's coat walked into the room. He talked to the nurse, obviously wanting to know why he had been called down, from whatever he was doing. We watched him as he talked to the nurse, and saw that his face became dead serious and then he turned to face us. "You're here to see Ms. Richardson?" He asked, his gaze piercing into my soul. A look of both anxiousness and dread. I nodded my head. "Aye…" Rotten replied, kissing my forehead softly. The doctor sighed and began, "She went through a lot in the crash. For one, she wasn't wearing her seatbelt, and the impact sent her through the windshield. She cracked her skull in two areas, broke two ribs and shattered her left arm. I don't know how to break the news to you, but Ms. Richardson is in a coma…and we don't know how long until she will come around." I felt all hope inside of me evaporate instantly. Tears began to prickle my eyes, and instead of shrugging them off like usual, I let them fall freely as I began to weep. How could I have let this happen to her? "It's going to be alright love…" Rotten cooed into my ear as he hugged me tightly. The doctor waited patiently for me to calm down and he continued, "If you think you're ready and able, I will take you to see her…but I'm warning you, it's not a pretty sight. Your friend is really beaten up. But we're taking care of her the best we can and she's in very good hands." I nodded and wiped my eyes with the back of my left hand, still holding onto Rotten's hand with the other. I looked at him for comfort and he nodded, giving me a small reassuring smile. "Alright, follow me." Dr. Sven told us and led us towards the elevator. The short elevator ride was done in complete silence, until the 'bing' made us aware that we had finally reached our destined floor, floor number 5. We walked down the hallway until the we came to a halt in front of a closed door. "Room 1398…this is it…" He opened the door to the small hospital room and let us in. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I was about to witness and walked in, Rotten at hand. I felt my heart sink, sink deeper than it ever had before as I saw her. It was too hard for me to look at her in that state, with wires and tubes here and there. Her face was bruised, purple and yellow, her head wrapped in several layers of gauze and bandages, with darkened spots of a crimson color. Her arm was in a cast and sling. If it hadn't been for the heart monitor's incessant beeping, you would have thought her dead. Tremors coursed my body as I felt my legs give way and I crumbled to the floor, weeping hysterically. In my mind the only thing I could think was, I'm going to KILL Sid Vicious.
As we made our way through both sets of automatic doors, we were greeted by the sickly, yet clean smell of the hospital. My hand instantly met Rotten's in a deathly grasp. We exchanged a look as we walked solemnly to the reception desk. The nurse behind the desk seemed stressed, and you could tell the stress had taken it's toll on her during her hard years in the hospital. She couldn't have been older than thirty, but the wrinkles on her face and her quickly greying hair, made her seem much older than she really was. She looked up from her computer screen and a hesitant smile bore her lips. "Can I help you?" Her voice was soft and kind. "M-Maxigan Richardson's room…please?" My own voice came out rough and broken. Her face dropped instantly. "Uhm…let me call the doctor down." She then picked up the receiver from the wall and dialled a number, suddenly her voice could be heard on the intercom. "Doctor Sven to the front office, please. Doctor Sven." Her voice was calm, but I could sense the tension in the air, as though an electric current were searing through me. I grasped onto Rotten's hand even harder, but he didn't seem to mind, he only returned the squeeze and then wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the doctor, a man who seemed to be in his early 50's with a gentle looking face and small spectacles, wearing his scrubs and doctor's coat walked into the room. He talked to the nurse, obviously wanting to know why he had been called down, from whatever he was doing. We watched him as he talked to the nurse, and saw that his face became dead serious and then he turned to face us. "You're here to see Ms. Richardson?" He asked, his gaze piercing into my soul. A look of both anxiousness and dread. I nodded my head. "Aye…" Rotten replied, kissing my forehead softly. The doctor sighed and began, "She went through a lot in the crash. For one, she wasn't wearing her seatbelt, and the impact sent her through the windshield. She cracked her skull in two areas, broke two ribs and shattered her left arm. I don't know how to break the news to you, but Ms. Richardson is in a coma…and we don't know how long until she will come around." I felt all hope inside of me evaporate instantly. Tears began to prickle my eyes, and instead of shrugging them off like usual, I let them fall freely as I began to weep. How could I have let this happen to her? "It's going to be alright love…" Rotten cooed into my ear as he hugged me tightly. The doctor waited patiently for me to calm down and he continued, "If you think you're ready and able, I will take you to see her…but I'm warning you, it's not a pretty sight. Your friend is really beaten up. But we're taking care of her the best we can and she's in very good hands." I nodded and wiped my eyes with the back of my left hand, still holding onto Rotten's hand with the other. I looked at him for comfort and he nodded, giving me a small reassuring smile. "Alright, follow me." Dr. Sven told us and led us towards the elevator. The short elevator ride was done in complete silence, until the 'bing' made us aware that we had finally reached our destined floor, floor number 5. We walked down the hallway until the we came to a halt in front of a closed door. "Room 1398…this is it…" He opened the door to the small hospital room and let us in. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I was about to witness and walked in, Rotten at hand. I felt my heart sink, sink deeper than it ever had before as I saw her. It was too hard for me to look at her in that state, with wires and tubes here and there. Her face was bruised, purple and yellow, her head wrapped in several layers of gauze and bandages, with darkened spots of a crimson color. Her arm was in a cast and sling. If it hadn't been for the heart monitor's incessant beeping, you would have thought her dead. Tremors coursed my body as I felt my legs give way and I crumbled to the floor, weeping hysterically. In my mind the only thing I could think was, I'm going to KILL Sid Vicious.