Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

“God,” I said to the room. I said to the ceiling and the walls and the thin air. “I’m really struggling. What did all that mean? Was that really my dad? If it was, could you give me some sort of sign? Anything?”

With my hands still clasped, I looked around the room. I thought I saw something out the corner of my eye, a little flash, but it was nothing. I looked around. What did I expect to see?

“Can you just make a noise, or show yourself? I don’t know, a light, a sound? Anything? Please.”

Nothing.

I felt like crying.

“Okay. I know you’re supposed to have faith, and I believe in you one hundred percent but-”, I thought about a quote from the bible, it’s not faith if you use your eyes, “-can you not just tell me?”

A voice in my head said “Believe it, it is true. There is an afterlife. It was your dad.” But another voice, I don’t know, my logical side said, “Bullshit, it’s all in your head.”

“Okay, God” I said, “Look, I’m really struggling here, in this place. I need… Help. Help me. And I’m lonely. Please if you don’t mind, if I deserve it, please can you bring me a friend? I need somebody. Somebody. Thank you, Amen.”

I lay in bed on my left side. I kept looking at the wall with the window on it. The wall I had envisioned myself floating through.

I got up. I put my shoulder against it and leaned all my weight.

Nope.

I placed my hands on the plastered hardness, and with my feet behind me pushed as hard as I could. It didn’t budge.

It was all crap!

I have faith! I bloody have one hundred percent faith! I know there is a God. I’ve always known it. So when Jesus said, “you can move mountains with your faith.” it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe I think I have faith but don’t really. A part of me can’t believe. Nah, that’s crap, it just proves it for me, the bible isn’t there to take literally, it has no literal meaning. It’s all in bloody code, just like everything else in life.

I got back in bed. Why is the ward so bloody quiet? Is everyone dead?!

I wished that someone would make a sound. It was so lonesome. I had to get some music- a CD player, a radio, anything.

I felt like crap. I felt like suicide. I picked up the pillow and crushed it into my face. But my will of instinct was being a pain in the ass. I held the pillow tighter. My chest started to hurt.

I threw the pillow against the wall. It was all too much fucking effort. I couldn’t be arsed anymore. I needed a gun.

I hauled up the covers and crawled in deep.

I hoped to sleep. I really hoped I wouldn’t wake up.

Chapter 17

I was pulled back from oblivion by someone shaking my arm. The light stung my eyes and I looked up to see Liz’s fat face and cow eyes staring at me, her enormous breasts sagging over my body.

“Good mor-nin, Aisha. That must be a record, you’ve been a-sleep since yester-day dinnertime.”

Sunlight poured through the window. “What’s the time?” I said.

“Eight-thirty.”

“Did no-one try to wake me up for dinner, or the group meeting?”

“The meeting was cance-ulled due to the insidints yester-day, and yes we tried to wake ye for dinna but ye were out like a spak. That appens sometimes when ye are on new meds, just takes time to get used to et.”

I hadn’t taken my tablets. It wasn’t that unusual for me to sleep that long. Twenty-odd hours used to be pretty standard for me.

“Ye want you breakfast in you room?” she smiled. She was unusually bright and bubbly, like a different person.

“No, it’s okay, thanks. I’ll be through in a minute.”

“Okay, as soon as you out, I’ll get you room tidied.”

She went out and left me to change. I waited till she shut the door then got out of bed and went over to my bag. I moved sprightly, surprising myself with the amount of energy I had. I zipped open my bag and rummaged through, threw on some clothes, and sat on the edge of the bed.

I felt better. Refreshed. I thought about the day ahead and the few days past and decided to try and remain as positive as I could, and wait for my opportunity. As for what happened in the dream, I knew it for what it was, my fucked-up mind making shit up.

I walked across the room. No sooner had I turned the handle and stepped halfway out when Liz came flying in the other way, slamming against me with her elephant waist. “Sorry,” she said unapologetically. She started on the wall with a cloth and Fabreze.

And up the corridor there was Dale too, standing next to a bucket dragging a mop along the floor, streaks of sunlight shining in the wet strokes he had made. I walked slowly towards him. The fog had cleared, the sun was high in the blue sky and for the first time I got a good view. I could see how far back the forest went from the edges of the lawn, receding way into the distance where it met the horizon. The trees on the lawn were lit up, their old statures accentuated. The car park was packed pretty much full, and to my surprise I noticed a man with a limp walk, whom I guessed was a patient from another ward, making his way along the lime green grass with a nurse. Or it could even have been his mother.

Dale was scrubbing vigorously, stopping now and then to dunk the mop. He was scrubbing right up to the sides of the