PART 5 I long to get out of this house, to just go for a walk or a drive for that matter. Being cooped up all day is difficult for me. When I was at home I used to walk to the shops to buy groceries. Now I’m not allowed out of the house. Winter is slowly approaching and I can feel the cold creeping in. Its almost like I can’t keep warm anymore despite trying to. I wrap myself in blankets, put on jersey’s yet I’m never warm enough. Maybe I’ve lost some sensation. The thing that has gotten me down the most is the loneliness and the isolation. There’s no one to talk to during the day. I’m surrounded by people in my room, yet none of them make conversation. I don’t think I’ve heard any of them speak. I wonder if they can speak anymore. Worse still is that none of us get visitors except the woman at the far end of the room. The same man visits her everyday. I’ve assumed that he’s her husband. When he comes he doesn’t say much, he just sits at her bed and holds her hand. The gesture is actually very sweet. My heart hurts because I’ve never experienced that kind of love. My husband died when I was still very young. Even during the short time that we were married he was never really romantic. We were always expected to be kind of formal. I see things have changed nowadays. Nowadays couples hold hands in public. Frankly I think much worse happens in public. I watch as the man sits at the bed. I don’t realize that I’m staring until he turns to look at me. I turn away embarrassed. ‘Its ok, I know we might seem weird’ he says to me. ‘Its not that, its just that I long to have a visitor’ I say honestly. He nods ‘I’m Patrick by the way’. I find that Patrick tells me about his and his wife’s former life. Now that she’s so ill its hard for him to take care of her. He had no other choice but to leave her here but he makes up for it by coming everyday. I don’t know why I’m blurting out my life story to random strangers. Maybe its the loneliness that gets to me. I tell Patrick about my life story and I feel a little better after that. After supper I retreat to my room. I find that the woman next to me is facing my bed. She looks more ill and pale than she did earlier. Its unnerving to have her stare at me, so I pull the curtain around my bed. After a while I fall off to sleep but I’m awoken by the commotion beside me. A nurse that I haven’t seen before, Grace and Helena are all clamoring over the bed beside me. I turn to look at the happenings of my neighbour and find that they’re looking for a pulse, but she’s gone. I look at her pale body with her mouth hanging agape and realize that death has visited this room and will continue to do so until we’re all gone. I clutch my blanket close to me. Shivers run through my body and I can’t seem to stop shaking or to keep warm for that matter. My other room mates are oblivious to what’s happened. The one to my left continues to groan periodically while the other seems fast asleep. The next day the bed is made again and prepared for a new visitor. We’re not residents, we’re merely visitors for our stay in this place won’t be long. Two days later a new visitor is brought in and placed beside me. She looks even worse than the previous occupant of this bed. I wonder how long it’ll be till this bed is filled by someone else. I realize something I hadn’t thought about before. Someone must have occupied my bed before me, someone may have died in the bed that I’m lying in.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Dec 2014 09:00:00 +0000