You Can Never Leave
By Marie Myers
I was looking at the ground and Jasmine was looking at my leg. No one in my family had ever had surgery before. On top of that my family had never been to keen on occasional hospital trips. The very idea of hospitals made us uneasy. Huge buildings, the sounds of ventilators, the soft beeping of heart monitors echoing out into the hallway from hundreds of small square rooms. Emanating the sound of some poor soul’s heart from somewhere within the shadows. Doctors in white and blue that smelled of antibacterial soap just waiting to poke and prod you with their needles.
Yeah, I wasn’t thrilled.
And when they called my name and I was led into the prep room that came before the operating room everything suddenly became too real. My hands were trembling as the anesthesiologist tinkered with her needles. Goddamn needles, there were so many of them. So fucking…many.
Jasmine squeezed my hand one last time before they led me into the operating room.
“Jazy,” I said tiredly, “you better get that Jell-O ready.”
“OK,” said the doctor that was wheeling me in. “You’re going to count to ten.”
“One, two, three…”
Lights out.