Day 4

Joseph's eyes fixed on the clock, the red numbers blinking back at him furiously. 2:41

Blink.
Breathe.

2:43

Blink.
Breathe.

2:45

His alarm clock awoke with a start, a high pitched scream grasped the room. Joseph's hand lingered over the button, waiting for the movement next to him. When he felt the leg brush his, his finger came down quickly, shutting the alarm clock up.

The covers shifted as his bed partner got up and made their way to the bathroom. Joseph pressed his face into the pillow and screamed. Another day. After all the drinking he would think that his failing liver would have killed him over night. A day of torture. How he wished....

The bathroom door opened and Joseph rolled himself over, sitting up. He scooted towards the edge of the bed, his hand groping the darkness.

"Need help," came the soft voice from the other side of the bed.

"No!" Joseph said between gritting teeth. His hand reaching, aching. Just a bit further. His finger tips brushed the cold metal and he grabbed it, pulling it close to him. He lifted himself up, one hand holding onto the bar, the other helping keep his balance on the bed. He lowered himself gently until he could go no further.

"You sure?" came the voice again.

"Positive," he murmured. Both hands on cold metal. And push.

Forward he moved until he entered the bathroom. Pulling the chain sharply, the light flickered on. He pushed himself towards the toilet, emptied his bag, and turned to look at the shower. This part was always a hassle. He closed his eyes tightly as the tears came.

Even after all these years, Joseph still couldn't deal with the pain and agony it had caused him. Even as he thought about it, he felt the pain all over again. The bullet burned into his skin. Torn into his body for life. He looked at the chair that was his life now. Paralyzed from the middle of his back down. A waste.

He cursed the nurse that had run over to save his life. Now he was fucked. He rolled closer to the tub, anger in his chest making it hard for him to breathe. He turned on the shower, warm water cascading down. Lifting himself up, he could hear the chair shaking underneath him. He threw himself into the tub, slamming his chin again the ceramic and chipping a tooth. He crumbled into the tub, his body in an odd arch, legs sticking up into the air, eyes peering up at the ceiling. Thick sobs racked his body, blood running down his chin.

He tried, but failed, at pushing himself up.

"Carol!" he cried out. "Carol!"

He heard rushing heels and a gasp, "Joseph! What the hell?!" Hands grabbed at him, flipping him over. Her eyes were full of worry, her blonde hair pasting to her face as the water hit her. "What are you doing?" she said softly, running a shaking hand over his cheek.

Joseph kissed her fingers, "Stay with me today."

She climbed into the shower, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. Listening to his heart. He was alive. A living, breathing human being. A hurt human being.

Joseph sobbed as he held her closely, the shower still pounding down on them.

'Tomorrow,' he thought. 'We can try again tomorrow.'