So earlier today I got a phone call from an unknown number to tell me my sister was in hospital, and that they'd already called my dad but when he'd arrived he'd broken down and was pretty useless to them, so could I come in and talk to them. I asked what it was about, but apparently they can't give you much detail over the phone, except to say that my sister had been in an accident.
So I got my shit together and got a train to the hospital... I don't think I've ever been in a hospital before, or at least, not since I was too young to remember. I had to stop at the reception desk to ask where the Accident & Emergency was, and the woman there was this lovely old nurse who asked my name and gave me directions to the right building and told me to ask there, give them my name and who I was there to see - they'd help me from there.
From there I had to walk across the carpark, back in the direction of the accident and emergency place and despite being really rainy during rush hour (which I guess I thought would be the busy times for A&E) the whole place was dead still and quiet. I had my headphones in, but there was nothing playing. I guess I was too numb to reach into my pocket and actually put anything on. I can't even remember if I turned it off or if I'd just run out of album... I couldn't even feel seriously bad about my sister; a part of me was hoping this was all just some weird routine thing, and she'd be fine, but I guess I kind of knew from my dad's response that that couldn't be it.
I walked in the weird, folding-automatic doors they have, leaned on the front desk and told them my name and my sister's name. The nurse here was stern, looked a bit like a teacher I used to have when I was about 12; I guess when you're trying not to face up to something you notice these kinds of things. She gave me a look, and I realised I was soaking wet from my walk through the carpark, dripping water across admission forms and stuff on the front desk. So I stood up straight and asked again; she sighed and asked how to spell my name because it's in Irish and fucking unspellable (Mac an tSagairt, for the curious). I rattled out the spelling, feeling a bit better I suppose, because this happens all the fucking time, and she said they hadn't anyone by that name. I was relieved, until it occurred to me that she just hadn't changed the gender for my sister's name, so I asked, "Can you check for Nic an tSagairt?"
Sure enough, that flagged the sister's name, room number and some other details on whatever weird OS it is that hospitals use... again, these are the things you focus on in weird situations. I had to go up four floors, no sign of a lift any time soon, so I took the stairs... anything to put it off. Eventually, without being introduced to a doctor at all, I reached the right floor, checked the walls for the coloured strip that leads to Ward C and then follow the yellow line on the wall. I walked for what seemed like ages, passing on my left room after room of single beds, old people convalescing, seeming well enough, some asleep. On my right, huge open windows, looking across a field to a wood and the ruins of an older hospital, burned or knocked down, maybe both. Wind whips the rain against the windows and the fluorescent tube lighting casts shafts of white out into the rain.
I stopped noticing all of this when I saw my dad, leaned over a bed with something vaguely approximating my sister in it. It's like when you see someone you know from really far away and you know you'll talk to the, so you look away... break eye contact somehow. So I look at the floor until I get there, don't make eye contact with the father. It's clear he'd been crying, and I figured he really didn't need anyone drawing attention to it.
A doctor walked over and asked if I was related. He reamed off some details about her being hit by a jeep, dragged along the ground on her front - not much they can do for her but hold her together and hope. But I couldn't pay attention to him, I'm stuck focusing on my sister. One half of her face had been scraped clean of skin; her whole right cheek had been torn open and I could see eye lolling, to one side in its socket, sad and completely empty. Through the hole torn in her cheek I can see her teeth, right back to the molars, sharp and a little yellow, the bits of the person we never get to see.
She started to move, to open her mouth a bit, dreaming I supposed, and I wondered while her mouth worked, are everyone's molars so sharp? I mean, how often do you ever really see them? As I watched, she started to shrug at the blanket, like maybe she couldn't breath properly, or it was too tight. I leaned over to try and loosen it a bit, when I noticed that she was wide awake, big black eyes looking right up at me... lips pulled back, teeth exposed, her mouth all vicious and cruel.
I looked up at my dad, crying and scratching at his snout. I spun, looking to the doctor for help, and realised that yeah, fuck, he was a fucking bear too. All of them, the two people I'd loved the most and the only person I could have ever hoped might help me... they were all fucking bears. There was nothing I could do.
I turned and ran, I ran from my dad, from the doctors, from the nurses... I ran and ran. I ran until my paws hurt and the cold air burned in my snout. I ran across the carpark, with the rain clinging to my winter coat. I ran... I ran from the realisation that I too, was a bear.
Awesome!! You actually did get me right up until the end. In the beginning I was a bit teary eyed. But by the end I was bawling my eyes out with the realization that I just got owned.
On January 15 2010 05:54 Draconizard wrote: The blog section on this site is quickly spiraling downward from bad to terrible.
Are you kidding? This is incredible. Had me going.
for example:
the whole place was dead still and quiet. I had my headphones in, but there was nothing playing. I guess I was too numb to reach into my pocket and actually put anything on.
At least it looks like he put some effort into it. I was wondering what was up with all the vivid details and such while reading it. It didn't seem legit - and sure enough it wasn't.
On January 15 2010 05:52 DoctorHelvetica wrote: aren't there comics on 4chan with the same exact plot
I know there's one of this guy complaining about how he hates his job and goes over his list of coworkers and it turns out he's the blonde guy from Scooby-Doo
On January 15 2010 05:55 789 wrote: At least it looks like he put some effort into it. I was wondering what was up with all the vivid details and such while reading it. It didn't seem legit - and sure enough it wasn't.
I had the same reaction when reading it. Didn't make sense for someone to be remembering a bunch of useless details when their sister gets hit by a car. Was thinking it was either a bel air type of post or just a story someone made up.
On January 15 2010 05:55 789 wrote: At least it looks like he put some effort into it. I was wondering what was up with all the vivid details and such while reading it. It didn't seem legit - and sure enough it wasn't.
I had the same reaction when reading it. Didn't make sense for someone to be remembering a bunch of useless details when their sister gets hit by a car. Was thinking it was either a bel air type of post or just a story someone made up.
Yeah, it felt like it was going to end up being a story or a dream or something while I was reading it.
On January 15 2010 05:54 Draconizard wrote: The blog section on this site is quickly spiraling downward from bad to terrible. Please, take your 4chan trash elsewhere.
Sorry, I don't use 4chan, a friend showed me a comic that ended with the bear thing and I enjoyed it enough to write a blog about it... didn't mean to offend
I know there's one of this guy complaining about how he hates his job and goes over his list of coworkers and it turns out he's the blonde guy from Scooby-Doo
the whole place was dead still and quiet. I had my headphones in, but there was nothing playing. I guess I was too numb to reach into my pocket and actually put anything on.
seriously this is top notch creative writing
Motbob is my new favourite TLer.
His sister did actually get him by a car a few years ago but she's fine now
On January 15 2010 05:54 Draconizard wrote: The blog section on this site is quickly spiraling downward from bad to terrible. Please, take your 4chan trash elsewhere.
Sorry, I don't use 4chan, a friend showed me a comic that ended with the bear thing and I enjoyed it enough to write a blog aboutcopy-paste it... didn't mean to offend
On January 15 2010 05:54 Draconizard wrote: The blog section on this site is quickly spiraling downward from bad to terrible. Please, take your 4chan trash elsewhere.
Sorry, I don't use 4chan, a friend showed me a comic that ended with the bear thing and I enjoyed it enough to write a blog aboutcopy-paste it... didn't mean to offend
Google it, the only other places it's been posted are under the username SirJolt (or maybe "Serge Volte") I wrote this myself. Read my other blog posts, they're all in the same style man. Everything down to the punctuation and grammar will be pretty much identical.
If it was posted on 4chan though, the thread likely is long gone and probably not archived, so a google search wouldn't find it. It's also possible the text only exists/ed in an image, which google would not find.
On January 15 2010 06:34 Nightmarjoo wrote: If it was posted on 4chan though, the thread likely is long gone and probably not archived, so a google search wouldn't find it. It's also possible the text only exists/ed in an image, which google would not find.
In that case, I suppose the only solution would be to read my blogs, most of which I guess are of higher quality than this one, in terms of writing style... hopefully.
On January 15 2010 06:34 micronesia wrote: I suggest you funnel your talent/efforts towards something a bit more constructive.
This had initially been an attempt to do just that, but the more I typed of it the more it seemed like there'd be no reasonable ending apart from, "But she's alright now." So I beared it instead. I wasn't really aware that it was a fad thing.
On January 15 2010 06:34 Nightmarjoo wrote: If it was posted on 4chan though, the thread likely is long gone and probably not archived, so a google search wouldn't find it. It's also possible the text only exists/ed in an image, which google would not find.
In that case, I suppose the only solution would be to read my blogs, most of which I guess are of higher quality than this one, in terms of writing style... hopefully.
On January 15 2010 06:34 micronesia wrote: I suggest you funnel your talent/efforts towards something a bit more constructive.
This had initially been an attempt to do just that, but the more I typed of it the more it seemed like there'd be no reasonable ending apart from, "But she's alright now." So I beared it instead. I wasn't really aware that it was a fad thing.
I wish more writers would end their stories this way rather than just slapping on a weak resolution.
I was ready to write an apology post about the nature of the internet because the only thing I could think about while reading the damn thing was "Troll? Yes? No? Maybe? Troll? Man if this isn't a troll am I a bad person?" but then the bears appeared and I lol oh silliness.
I was feeling all sympathetic for you. A long time ago, someone very close to me suffered a serious injury and I remember quite clearly what it was like.
And then I realized that this was a sick joke.
Your taste in humor sucks and a darker side of me is really hoping karma catches up with you right now.
On January 15 2010 05:54 Draconizard wrote: The blog section on this site is quickly spiraling downward from bad to terrible. Please, take your 4chan trash elsewhere.
people say this about like every thread.
"wah wahh TL blogs were so much better in the old days!!"
And the name stuff seemed odd too. Do the Irish find their names nonsensical too?
A lot of Irish peeps don't read/speak Irish fluently anymore, and we get a lot of migrant workers working in hospitals (I hadn't thought about it, but I suppose I'd assumed it was common enough everywhere).
To those saying that it's in poor taste, I wrote this about a year after my youngest sister (17) was hit by a jeep. The damage wasn't quite as severe, but I wanted something she could read about how it was for the rest of us that day...
As I said above, I couldn't finish it properly without it just being a, "... but you're alright now, isn't that lovely," so I beared it instead.
For what it's worth, she really liked it... though I'm not sure if that makes a difference to anyone but me.
This might have been funny if you could write real real good and pretty yet realistic and all, but it probably would still end up being like a painted wall with wet paint on it in a real humid place that I happened to be too, watching that wall with all the paint on it.
EPT
![[image loading]](http://img.chan4chan.com/img/2009-10-04/1254678005562.png)
![[image loading]](http://i101.photobucket.com/albums/m68/Nightmarjoo/1256967005065.jpg)
