Crackle
By Casey Douglass
as part of #fridayflash
It started as a tinny
rustling sound, like a small plastic bag cavorting in the breeze. I
looked outside my flat but could see nothing snagged or drifting
across the small communal garden. Thinking it might be something on
another resident's balcony, I did my best to ignore it.
A few days later it got
louder. It sounded like a can of pebbles leisurely rolling down a
grass slope. I struggled to hear the TV over it but again blamed the
neighbours.
After a week, I managed
to get an appointment with my doctor. He hummed and haaah’d and
referred me to the hospital.
Things moved quickly
after that.
Now I’m sat in a
white sanitised room, large sections of plastic sheeting flowing from
ceiling to floor on all sides. The machine next to me beeps now and
then but I don’t always hear it. It can’t compete with the
crackling inside my head.
Some kind of parasite
they think. Probably came over in a shipment of bananas from the
sub-continent they said. Horrible luck they whispered, eyes looking
at the floor beside my bed.
A specialist came the
other day, said that as far as she could see, the bugs reacted to
stress hormones. The more stress hormone in my body, the more
voraciously they reproduced. I asked if there was any kind of
medication that would help me curb the hormone. She shook her head
and said that it had to be an ‘authentic reaction’ or the bugs
wouldn’t buy it. I asked if I relaxed enough, would they leave? She
shrugged.
Now I lay and try to
relax, calling on every technique I can to calm my body and unwind my
mind. The slightest shock to my sensitised system, like a door
slamming somewhere down the hall, causes such a jolt of agony that I
pass out for minutes on end. On the plus side, my hearing is fading
so that kind of stimulus will be no threat soon.
The relaxation seems to
work but I know that in my heart, I am trying too hard to relax. It’s
like trying to accept something horrible in the hope that it will go
away. That’s not true acceptance. You should be able to accept
something whether it goes or stays. It shouldn’t matter.
My head buzzes with the
movements of the larger bugs now, new generations hatching and
chewing on my brain with every passing hour.
I saw the orderlies
install more sheeting around the doorways and windows yesterday. Nice
to know they are planning for the best!
All I know is that I’m
tired now. I feel annoyed to go out this way but I’m sure there are
worse. I’m going to stop trying to relax, stop hoping that I will
recover, give up the dream of recovery. I think it is a genuine
acceptance I feel now but who knows. All I know is I’m done with
the struggle and whatever happens happens.
People condemned to
death usually get a last meal. It is rare indeed that they are
the last meal.
Bon appétit bugs!
