3mer1ka
By Lloyd Ramsay
()
About this ebook
A distorted, surreal yet accurate narrative as told though the eyes and lens of a person living life. Buy nothing.
Lloyd Ramsay
I write, you read, I'm right, you are wrong
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Book preview
3mer1ka - Lloyd Ramsay
3mer1ka
by
Lloyd Ramsay
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Lloyd Ramsay on Smashwords
3mer1ka
Copyright © 2009 by Lloyd Ramsay
This is a work of fiction.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This body of work is licensed under a Creative Commons license: Attribution (by) +Noncommercial (nc) + NoDerivs (nd). For more information visit: www.creativecommons.org
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Dedicated to: Everyone
Created entirely on Apple hardware. Thought different.
Contact the auhor: [email protected]
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3mer1ka
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chapter 1
It all starts in blackest of darkness. Just pure undiluted void existing all around me. I was having the best sleep of my life. The type of sleep where you truly are dead to the world, spaceless and timeless. A rug on Valium. Then I started hearing sound and voices close by making me start to wake from this pool of oil. Voices carried on and on and on saying the most detached dreamlike things like: Yeah we need an ambulance
and Don’t move!
. Another step forward...why was I sleeping on the asphalt floor of a skatepark?
I turned over onto my back at the bottom of the jump box in an unfocused haze to see two English Bobbies standing over me. What was real what, was not real? They mumbled something which I could not comprehend. After a few blinks they seemed to not be there anymore. Judging from the pain in my hand and the pain in my shoulder and the pain in my foot, this was now real and something had gone wrong. After a length of time which I could never gauge two lady paramedics arrived with an ambulance. Since I had a head injury they wanted to take me to the local ER to get checked out. I could remember that no matter how badly hurt I was, I still found the paramedics cute.
So, which hospital are you taking me to?
I asked.
Wexham.
She replied
Where is that?
It’s in Slough
Christ, can’t we go to another hospital? Please?
My head felt like it had been in several non-stop epic Anime battles after I had been sitting there for what seemed like aeon’s. With no other method I could think of I kept biting my lip to stay awake as I kept nodding off. The Doctor came over to assess me and asked me to move this and move that and how does that feel?
. Almost like some chorus in a disco song. He wrote some things down and sent me off to the x-ray ward. He gave me directions on how to get there which is just the thing for a person who just hit their head and could not even remember how many ears they had. On the floor were large green Incredible Hulk decals in the shape of his foot leading the way. Luckily for me they actually lead to the x-ray ward and not the psycho ward.
While I sat there waiting my turn this really cute girl walked in with someone who could have been a parent. She kept staring at me. I was so out of it I thought she was checking me out but was probably more interested in the road map of blood down my face. I was that guy, the one that is worse off than you when you go to the hospital. My turn arrived and got blasted with enough x-rays to give the Duracell Bunny cancer.
Now dear..
The Radiologist said there was a problem with the x-ray on your jaw and I can’t tell which side it was taken from. Which side of your mouth do you have your fillings on so we can judge by that.
I have fillings?
On my way back to the Doctor I somehow managed to get lost despite the giant green Hulk feet stuck to the floor. I walked into a ward of people that were a lot older and sicker than I ever hope to be. Some hospital staff and a nurse standing in the corner of the room stopped mid conversation to yell at me: You are in the wrong place! Go back!
. I slowly turned around and bid them Good morning
since it was night and just to fuck with them.
The sickness part of my concussion kicked in. Every sore body part from my crash got worse as I had to get up to move to the bathroom. Vomit was knocking on the door and my mouth was awash with spit. I got the thought in my head like I always do that I did not want to be throwing up at that particular moment. Then I faced it and knew it was something that would be over in no time. My head was in a gray vibrating haze as I got on my knees and faced the toilet. My body seized up in pre throw up stage fright, then my mouth involuntarily opened as wide as my jaw would allow it, human mechanics reaching full realization. My throat burned and my eyes watered as what little I had in my stomach came out. My brain felt like it was drowning in super glue. I looked down at the Picasso I had just created swimming in the toilet and saw blood amongst the other content. My hand went up to my nose and came away with some blood on it. After a serious blow to the head I knew this could be hemorrhaging inside my head. I froze. My back arched up and I puked again. Eyes watering, mouth hanging open I stared down into the toilet and prepared to black out and die. In my murkiness I thought about my end and realized that it made perfect sense and timing. My friend Rich who was on his way to my apartment to keep an eye on me would find me face down in the toilet in my pj’s. I had escaped death once before years ago in a near fatal car accident but I knew I could not get out of this one. I was cornered in the bathroom. The fear I expected was not there. Still bent over I closed my eyes and just said fuck it, I’ve had a good life
. After waiting to black out, the dizziness subsided and the murky head water thinned out. I actually began to feel better. My thoughts were no longer electric rattles down a rusty pipe but rather like when you surface from being under water and sight and sound return to their defaults. I stood up slowly, body still aching and washed my face. My reflection showed dark rings under blood shot eyes as well as the cuts padded by swollen flesh. As I lay back down in bed I had to move all my sore parts fuel injecting me with 16 valve pain. Staring at the roof, dead still as to go for dullness and not sharpness I couldn’t believe I had just lived through that moment.
Shannon came over after Rich left because I needed someone to keep an eye on me the whole night. I barely remember Rich being there. Shannon stayed the night being my home brew nurse and said holy shit
when she saw me in daylight the next morning. My shoulder was covered in grazes, my left ear was cut as was my nose and parts of my face. A huge black eye had come to stay with me as well as my right hand hurting like a teenagers cell phone bill. My head was a lot clearer but I still had a headache running around inside there rattling the windows and knocking on the doors.
Getting dressed dictated working with circus troupe balance. I took my time testing out the limits to which I could move before it hurt. New calibrations. My left arm was still too sore to live on its own so I kept the sling on and wore my jacket just like the one armed man. The eye and face looked bad so I wore dark sunglasses to stop people staring at me while I stared at them. My friend Rick came over to help me carry groceries and get my bike back. If they gave me any pain medication I don’t recall ever taking it, or does the medication take you? We walked slowly along the road while he told me how destroyed I looked. My memory was patchy and I went over the events of the day of the crash to try to do a power on self test. We found my bike stowed away in a closet at