I'm sick (Grasping Knowledge)

Staring dimly at the mirror in front of me, I began to laugh.

God, I look horrible now…hair falling from my head, blood everywhere…what a mess. I'm sorry for the chap who'll have to clean all of this up later…

Vaguely staring at the doctor's diagnosis stuck onto the glass with duct tape, I raised a bloodied finger on the few lines printed on the piece of paper that contained the details of my condition. I giggled uncontrollably. Who would have known that it was so? Who wouldn't have?

It's almost as if I could see that vein pouring more and more of that unexpected crimson fluid into my grey matter…it doesn't hurt much, no, not really…it's not that it's unwanted…letting my oh-so parched brain drink up its fill…

Feeling blood flowing softly towards my eyes, I sighed. I didn't even think of wiping it away. It didn't matter. My eyes…they needed moistening, did they not?

I stare once more at the mirror, knowing I am soon to die…

Glancing at the bone and flesh I had in my hand, I shuddered. THIS is what I have in my body? This? THIS? Such a lovely shade of red!

I smoothed the unprotected neurons on the top of my head and yanked on them hard.

Author's Note: Notice how the persona in the story is oblivious to the pain she is feeling...both physically and mentally.