Stay at Room 114

Stay at Room 114

© 2008 Senshi. If I see you stealing this story, Satan will rain down your throat with hot acid and dissolve your testicles and turn your guts into snakes. This story is copyrighted by Senshi. If I find that you've attempted to claim it, I will break into your house and tear your wife in half.

Chapter One

“You want me to stay for three days?” I asked my mother. The injury wasn't that serious and she wanted me to stay at that hospital for three fucking days? I'm not feeling that shit. I finally found a job and get to start tomorrow and now I got to be laid up in some hospital bed for three days? That's fucked up. Nah, that's karma shitting on me. This shit always happens whenever I get something good. So what if I got a concussion? Can't no baseball keep me down for more than a minute. Yeah, I got hit in the head and it was fucking embarrassing. I blacked out at the family picnic to the whole family laughing at me. My mother was the only one who didn't find the incident funny. She rushed me to the hospital and here I am in this drab and compact piece of shit room on an uncomfortable bed. The only company I got is the sound of the machines whirring in my room, the flat panel television stuck to the wall across from my bed, the sack of morphine hanging from the pole nearby, and my mother sitting in the folding chair next to me. Don't even need that morphine shit 'cause I'm not hurt that serious. My mother is the one that requested it.

Mom rose from her seat as the doctor entered with a nurse close at his side. That nurse, this short haired brunette with a gold hoop in her right nostril was carting in a tray with my dinner while the doctor held a clipboard against his chest. The doctor swept his arm at me and the nurse strolled over with the cart. She flashed me a quick smile before tearing the tops off the plastic dishes on the metal cart. Steam poured from beneath a tray and in the largest compartment was a steak dripping with brown steak sauce. The other three sections contained corn, peas, and mashed potatoes covered with gravy. The nurse unraveled the napkin from the plastic fork, knife, and spoon. She popped the top on a small cup of coffee and took it upon herself to pour in a two packets of sugar, quickly stirring the light brown liquid with the spoon on my tray. She worked nonchalantly the whole time and offered me her first glance since spying me to hand me the tray with my dinner.[