Crash

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He was floundering in a— he tried to look down, his head moved sluggishly. It was black, mud, sticky, glued to his feet, dark water, almost reaching his knee. Everywhere he looked, gray fog enclosing his vision. He lifted his foot, one step in front of the other. He stumbled. His muscles, his bones were so heavy, but he had to move. Why? He searched his mind, prodding, his thoughts moved like a sloth. He kept pushing, pulling the slack of bones and meats forward. It didn't feel like his body. He checked inside him, there was nothing, just a black void. Why is it so heavy then? Shouldn't he weight nothing if he was so hollow? There were voices, he tilted his head, focusing but he couldn't grasped them. Something, something really important, but he could not remembered. He felt so alone, small, he was dust, a single, solitary dust. He was exhausted beyond words. He fell down and black darkness covered him.

*

An unknown length of time later, Sander cracked open his eyes slowly, blur image of wall, cabinets, unfamiliar surrounding. He turned slowly, closed his eyes, thinking. His thoughts were sluggish, but he remembered. Him running naked through the street, night cold air, stares, voices, thoughts screaming in his head. Unabled to recall what he was supposed to do, or what he just thought of doing seconds before. People, faces, a woman talking to him, bright lights. Someone had called the emergency line. Him trying to tell someone, his mom's number. He remembered how she had to ask him many times before he could focused to get them all out. It was so cold, the pain in his head. A yellow van, blue, white, so bright. Something drapped over him, enclosing his naked body. A prick of needle on his arm, sharp, something flowed in his veins. Everything was blur and fuzzy. Her mom soft whispers, stroking his hair. The ambulance moving, waiting room, his mom guiding him to sign the form, him trying to gather himself enough. Another injection, pills. Lying on the bed. The fog. He was in a psych ward. He had crashed completely. Oh Robbe, I am so sorry. A thick blanket of drowsiness enveloped him and he let it pulled him under.

Sander and Robbe, Minute by MinuteWhere stories live. Discover now