I come to.
I can feel the poison in my head. My body quaking. I grab a cup of coffee. Spill most of it from the quakes. I quietly slide the corner of the curtain aside to see if my scooter is home. It isn’t. My cat stares at me in disgust. I look for my shoes find one. This explains the muddy sock. Scrape the puke off the top my RedWing and limp out the front door. No keys, no wallet, no bike, no shoe. I quietly try and shuffle by the managers apartment, no rent. Trying to hold back the tears from the abused brain and poison I ingested this time. Light stabbing my sockets. I turn my head and the nausea invites itself to the party. Nothing but endless dry heaves.
I fade out.
The EMT crushes his fat knuckle into my chest. “Hey Buddy, you okay? You with us? Hey…”
“What day is it?” I ask.
I roll to the side and dry heave some more. Tuesday? Four days gone. Where the hell have I been?
“Tough night?” He asks.
“Something like that.” I manage to mumble between heaves.
“There’s a lot of blood on you. Do you know what happened to you? You look like someone beat you with a baseball bat.”
Can’t breath, the heaves. I fade out.
The noise. Chest pain. “Breath you son of a bitch! Breath! Come on bud! Breath!” Flo exclaims. “Breath… there you go. In— out—in—out. Good boy. In, one, two, three. Out, three, two, one… I think we can put the defibrillator away.”
My chest hurts. My stomach aches. My brain is being stabbed with every heart beat. My body hurts everywhere. My eyes roll back and my body tenses. I start to fade out and I hear Flo yell, “Not again! Breath dammit, breath…breath you son of a bitch! Breath!” She punches my jaw and white pain explodes in my head.
I fade. Darker and darker it goes. The little spots of light, slowly leaves.
I mumble, “Scotch… dammit…scotch… never again.”
I fade deeper… deeper.
I hear Flo say, “He has no pulse again. Start CPR…”