Limits

Everyday, it seems I discover more of my limitations. I realize what it is that I cannot do. It’s like a pane of glass slots down between what I want and where I am. The limit is there, yet I can still see the object of my desires. So I am left, in a prison of glass, taunted by what I thought I could achieve.

Of course, the thing about glass is, if you want to enough, you can punch right through it. Sure there will be blood and pain. You’ll have to claw your way out as your body shreds to ribbons and pieces of you are lost forever in a crimson spray. But nothing worth doing is ever easy. Just because a limit exists does not mean you have to submit and give up. You have the strength to achieve whatever you want, but only if you don’t give up and try.

Glass shatters, limits are overcome.

My Docter Rang Me Today

The full results of my blood tests had come back. My liver has been greatly damaged by the glandular fever and my spleen is swollen. As a result I must avoid all alcohol as well as other harmful substances for three months. At which time I have to have ANOTHER blood test. I also shall continue to randomly fall asleep and to top it off I should not part take in any remotely strenuous tasks in case my spleen ruptures. So, not the best news in the world. Still I’m grateful I was told this now, before I went out tomorrow night. I could have been in a lot of trouble if I had went out and consumed alcohol. My liver could have failed. 

But the thing that I hate the most is the fact that I have to get another blood test. I hate how it makes me faint.

Weak or Asleep

I just got my initial blood results back from the nurse. Monocytes and Lymphocytes are high suggesting Mono/Glandular Fever. I asked her how long I would feel like this. She told me that the swelling would go down in about three weeks, but I’m going to be weak and randomly falling asleep for the next six months. That’s right, the next SIX MONTHS of my life are going to be mostly spent sleeping or too weak to do anything.

Blood

I had to have blood taken this morning. I am uncomfortable with the sight of my own blood but at the urging of my mother I went to the doctor to confirm that I did in fact have Glandular Fever. I dislike needles, the sight of my own blood makes me dizzy and weak. I was caught completely unaware when the doctor told me that they needed to take blood.

I purposely looked away as the nurse stuck the needle in. I gasped loudly as she pierced flesh. But then my vein began to collapse. She wriggled the needle in order to obtain the final required amounts of blood, during which time I think a nerve must have been hit as my arm started spasming. This of course led to the vein ripping and dyeing, which promptly caused me to faint.

I really just cannot handle my own blood, it’s just too much, it should remain inside me at all times. The results of the encounter were substantial bruising on my arm and being told that over the course of the next few months I will be inexplicably tired and randomly fall asleep.

Wouldn’t life be simpler without a heart? No emotion, nothing, just wandering and free. No drumming of blood, no hammering of muscle. Just a hole, where a heart once stood guard. Just a void, waiting to be filled. Just a life, spent like a zombie. The simplicity of oblivion.

Blood Soaked Revenge

A click, and then the handcuffs locked into place binding his arms around a pillar. She held the key in front of his face, he barely saw it in the dim light of the sewer. This place assaulted every single one of his sense. His eyes were robbed of light by the encroaching gloom. His nose was bombarded by the awful smell of decaying bodies and human waste, he could even taste the foulness. His ears suffered the repetitive dripping that would cost lesser men their sanity. But the worst was his skin, the jagged edges of the handcuffs ate away at his flesh causing crimson bubbles to spring free in their wake. A lesser man would have been broken by these things, but an assassin of his calibre, could not be claimed by such attempts.

Instead of following the dangling key with his eyes, he stared straight past it to where he imagined her face hid in the gloom. A silence broken only by the constant dripping, seemed to develop between them.

“Stop looking at me, it’s creepy.” She said after some time.

“Is this the part where you shoot me?” He asked without looking away, without even blinking.

“We’re not going to shoot you, that’s too easy. We’re leaving you here to starve or get eaten. Both equally painful. Both more mercy than you deserve.” A male voice furthur away answered.

The assassin never looked away from what must have been the girls face as he began to speak, “I’d advise you to shoot me right now.”

“Look he’s already begging for-“

“Because if you don’t, I can assure you I will get out and I will make you pay for this defiance. I will slice you’re body for every second I have been down here. You’re families wont recognize your blood drenched bodies by the time I’m finished. You’ll be buried in unmarked graves.”

“Yeah sure…” The girls defiance was lost on the assassin. He had already succumbed to fantasies of hunting her down. Dreams of trapping her. Visions of her terrified face, fear mixed with regret for not killing him when she had had the chance. But it wasn’t until he saw in his mind’s eye the crimson arc of her blood as his blade sank into her flesh again and again, that he began to laugh. A laugh that would haunt the nightmares of those that had heard it, forever more.