I've been busy.
So I had a very interesting weekend, which some writing might come out of. Been thinking a lot of other story ideas to throw around, I would post some stuff here but its longer than my usual, and so I don't really want to share just parts for a larger story until I have more of it done SO I'm gonna pull out one of my older ones, and share that with you. It's kinda short because I wrote it by hand first and cut out parts to skip to the actual plot so I could finish it in some way or another at least. The title is a mesh of "coma" and "maternal" as in mother.
Coma[ternal]
He walked with a limp and a bit of a hunch, but quicker than a trained indian. Inherently, he was a nice man, but time had worn on his intentions and had destroyed his motivation. He almost questioned his entire existence.
He wasn't religious, but maybe he should be. Maybe it would give him incentive to continue with his life in a jolly manner, but now all he desired to bring among the people around him was pain and guilt. He lived on the newcomer's stares of empathy and thrived in scaring it out of them with his wretched personality.
His ninja waddle, if it could be called so, took him a long time to perfect, but he had learned to enjoy it, as it added to the anticipation of the scare. He loved their faces not only from the intense growling noise he would make but also from his terrifying appearance.
He never physically harmed anyone, and his personality wasn't a result of choice entirely, it was a result of the conditioning of the meann people before him had wrought upon him (does that mean he is allowed to do unto others what has been done to him however?)
He used a cane, mostly to ward off small children and unwanted visitors of his precious personal bubble. He didn't need it to walk really.
His mother stayed in the hospital, in a comatose state. Arguably, she was the only person he felt a shred of compassion for, but she hasn't had the chance to ruin his perception of her yet. He stayed also because he needed physical medical care, whether that was from old age or a prolonged stay in the hospital was uncertain. He avidly denied any medication.
The hospital couldn't have had any positive effect on his mood. It was a bleak white with slightly blue horizontal bars lining from the top to the bottom. While it wasn't a prison in any way, he had decided by choice never to leave. His sour mood never allowed it.
He walked into her room like he always did. Stop at the doorway for a few seconds, giving a small sigh when her eyes remained closed. He pinched the bridge of his now allowed his eyes to water a little and placed his cane against the wall by the door. He walked towards her slowly, trying to make enough noise with his steps in hope that she may wake up. It had never worked before.
He sat slowly in the seat that had been moved next to her. It belonged in the corner but since he had moved the chair by her bead and steadfastly protested it never be moved, it has not budged.
His hands slowly moved towards hers and gently wrapped themselves around her frail fingers as he stared at her restful face. She looked peaceful but extremely weathered. Her chest barely moved up and down from her weak breathing.
As his head stared at the ground, he felt her hand twitch and a surge of joy ran through his heart. His love, his compassion! He brought his eyes up to hers and saw her eyes open for the first time in years.
She let out a small moan and looked over into his eyes.
Her eyebrows furrowed and her hand pulled away suddenly.
"Who are you!?" she asked almost maniacally as she curled away from him, pushing herself to the far side of the bed. She pulled away as much as her frail frame allowed and returned his tearful eyes with a glared pair.
"Mom, its me!" he choked. Tears dropped as he stood and grabbed for her hand, but she swatted it away.
"No beast could ever be my son!" she returned with vigilance. His eyebrows raised and his chin crumpled as well as his emotions.
"Mom please, its me..." he whimpered, his lower lip trembling.
"Get out," she hissed. He receded slightly, reluctantly.
"Get out!!" she repeated, louder this time. She sat up and stared at him in anger, pointing towards the door.
He ran from the room a with a sick feeling in his gut and his eyes to his face. He ran down the hallway crying without pause.
His sobs could be heard throughout the entire hospital.
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