Hospital Mania

Hospital Mania
By Kevin L

Last name removed from post for safety reasons

The first thing that happened is somebody put a gun to my head.

Please stop, I say.

Stop what?

I don’t want to die, please stop.

Shut up! I’m sick and tired of hearing you whine. All the time; boohoo. I’m tired of your bullshit. You want me to stop pointing the gun at you?

Yes!

You really want me to stop pointing it at you?

Yes!

Then shut the fuck up!

Okay, okay.

Now that you’ve calmed down enough for me to speak, I’ll tell you my situation. My name is Carl and I’m an alcoholic.

Hi Carl!

Shut the fuck up!

I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.

Just shut up, okay? Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’m an alcoholic. I drink too
many brews and I’ve had quite a lot of vodka in my time too, you know. I’ve recently
been divorced with my wife, and I’ve been through a living hell. I smoke too many
doobies, and my whole reality has gotten fucked up because of it. All of this is, of
course, my fault but the reason why I’m about to kill you now--

What?

I said the reason why I’m about to kill you now is ‘cause, you fucked up.

I fucked up?

Yes, you fucked up. And now, the only way to redeem yourself is that you have to die.

Look, can’t we talk this over? I don’t want to die, I have a family, I have kids for christ’s sakes.

Oh, now you’ve done it! You just had to bring the kid’s into the matter, didn’t you? I have kids too! Why the fuck do you think your kids are more important then my kids?

I don’t know, I don’t know, just please stop it.

You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being! How come you never became a writer?
Hmm? Whatever happened to that dear ambition of yours that you held so precious? You
fucked up, because you’re still working this dead end job, in your dead end life. You
haven’t gotten laid since your wife left you and you’ve been drinking for no good reason
too. There are about a million reasons of why I’m about to blow your head off. You need
this.

No I don’t.

Yes you do. You need to die. That’s the only way you will be reborn. You have to die.

So he cocked the trigger. And he pulled.

And that’s how I ended up at North Grants.

I had died and went to heaven.

“Hey there Carl, how are we doing today,” said Nurse, with a warm smile.

“Good thank you,” I replied, graciously.

“Wow, you seem much better today Carl! You might be able to get out of here soon. Would you like that?”

“I certainly would, Nurse Pratchett.”

“Good, now time for your meds.”

The nurse hands me the gun, encased in a shot glass. I take the gun, point it to my temple, and pull the trigger.

And that’s how I got to see my family again.

Hi Kevin, June here! Welcome to YWS!


Firstly! YWS strongly advises against posting your full name on the site, even if you are over 18. It's a simple safety policy, but we enforce it so that no one can track you down.

Anyway! As far as your story goes, I have to say it was a fairly well written, well thought out flash fiction. I enjoyed how you didn't use dialogue tags until the end. I was going to make note of that at first, but you not using them allows us to clearly see the difference between the scenes.

To be honest, though, I think you should make the changing from the first character to the second character a little bit clearer. Though you point it out with the change in dialogue, it's slightly confusing, dear. For instance! Aside from the line that Nurse Pratchett says, it's not clear that Carl is the "I" in this part. Perhaps a simple dashed line could clarify this.

The one thing that this story has me wondering is: What kind of nurse is this? I was thinking that the gun could be a metaphor for a drug or medication, but, no, why would he point meds to his temple? (Really, it's probably because it's 2 AM and I can't think that I'm not getting this). Also, his family died?


So, Kevin! I think it was a nice piece, a bit heavy on violence themes and whatnot, but overall fairly decent. You've a nice, smooth writing style which is wonderful; it makes for easy reading.

The ending was slightly fuzzy, dear, but aside from that, I have to say that this was pretty well written. Nice work; welcome to YWS, and keep the good work up.

June

I'm glad you liked it.

The main character suffers from bipolar disorder.

In my experience, medication can sometimes feel like your putting a gun to your head. I guess it is kind of morbid, but it did get the point across, I think.

Thanks for reading.

Hey Kev,

I think you're confusing bipolar disorder with a split personality disorder, or at the very least, borderline personality disorder. (Most people do.) Those who are bipolar aren't necessarily "crazy," they just experience extreme highs and lows, with each episode lasting at least a week. (There are rapid-cycling bipolar disorders, but they tend to be less common.)

In any case, I really like the feel of this! It's the unreliable narrator, and you can never really tell what's real. Though perhaps I'd change "heaven" to "hell" -- mental wards are rarely pleasant places for those committed. And I'm not sure I understand the end line about seeing his family again. That's how he was allowed out? It's a pretty abrupt ending.

Really good, though. Interesting idea. I'd like to see more stuff like this. I'm always a huge fan of the unreliable narrator and any description of mental wards -- guess it's a combination of having been there myself and studying to be a psychologist. Lemme know if you post anything more like this!

Although I do not claim to be an expert on bipolar disorder, I do have to admit that I'm bipolar myself and I guess some of my feelings got mixed into this and even though I agree he seems to be suffering from something else, that was the basis behind my story.

Thanks for reading.