White Coats

    The room is empty. It smells like amonia and bleach cleaners. There aren't any windows in this room. It's suffocating. This room is meant to suffocate you. It's meant to drain every ounce of life from your body. You're supposed to come here to get better. But you don't. If you do leave, you're going to die anyway. If you leave. You don't though. The only way you leave this place is if you're not breathing.
    The people in the lab coats lie to you. They look you straight in the eye and give you hope. Even when they know they're lying. It's what they do. They lie. That's all. The tests and the medicine doesn't do anything. It just helps the lies they tell you. And they know it, too.
    The bed is naked. The sheets are gone. The wires are gone. The tubes are gone. The life is gone. An hour ago there was someone in this bed. Who was it? A friend? A sister? Something like that anyway. Someone that hurts you right now. That's all. When you look at the bed it hurts you. The nakedness of the bed makes your chest heave and shake. It makes these horrible sobs push out your mouth. Forces salty water to fall out of your eyes.
    You're dreaming. You know you're dreaming. Things like this don't happen in real life. It's another one of your nightmares. You haven't had a nightmare in a while. It's about time you get one. It makes sense, right? You've been worrying about her for a while. Worrying that she'll die and you'll be without a best friend.
    That's it! That's who it was. It's not a friend or a sister. It's both. She's your bestfriend. She knows everything about you. You guys have been pissing each other off for a decade. Damn. How could you forget who she was? That's rather silly and thoughtless of you.
    Those damn people in the lab coats. They lied to you. They lied to everyone. They lied to her. They said she would be fine. They told her it was all gone. The medicine was just to stop it from coming back. They lied. They lied about everything.
    Why are you so upset? You're dreaming. Stop getting so upset in your nightmare. You're supposed to get upset after the nightmare's over. Getting upset is what you do when you wake-up. Not yet. You're still sleeping. You're lying sprawled out on your bed, mouth hanging open, snoring. Your eyes are shut and your breathing through your nose, even though your mouth is open. Gods you sleep so weirdly.
    The naked bed is laughing at you. It's laughing because it knew that the white coats were lying to you. To all of you. It knows that when people sleep on it, it kills them. Takes them away forever. Hurts them while they sleep, while they can't protect or defend themselves. Sneaky bastard of a bed.
    Well, that sneaky bastard stole your bestfriend. Took her away right in front of your eyes. She was smiling and laughing one minute. Then she said her chest was hurting. She said she couldn't breathe. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her back arched off the bed. You watched her hands shake. You watched her body start to shake and slam on the bed. The bed was killing her. It decided that she shouldn't be smiling. You made her smile.
    The other one in the room started screaming. She ran right past you. She almost knocked you down. That's because you were walking to your bestfriend who was lying still on the bed now. Her body was still shaking. There was this weird spit stuff leaking out her mouth. There was blood leaking out from her nose. The bed was laughing a lot now.
    Some people in green pants and shirts ran into the room. They pushed you out of the way. They grabbed your friend. You couldn't see her anymore. All you could see were green people. Someone was pulling you away. The green people were trying to work and you were getting in their way. But how could you leave? Your bestfriend was leaking spit and blood. You had to help her somehow. Maybe if you kissed her she'd wake-up and laugh at you. She'd shout "Gotcha!" and laugh. You'd be angry with her for having scared you. But it's only fair. You made her angry. She made you angry. She yelled at you. You didn't say anything. You got a little bit more angry at her. Then she made you laugh. No need to say sorry or anything. Your bestfriend knows you're sorry. Just like you know she's sorry, too.
    That damn bed. It's still laughing at you. It's laughing because it can. You can't anymore. You don't know when you'll laugh again. Maybe today. Probably not. How about tomorrow? No, probably not. The day after that? No. I don't think you'll laugh for a long, long time. How can you laugh? The last time you laughed, your bestfriend died.
    The white coats lied to you. They always do. Stupid white coats.