Escape
I wake up to my right foot itching. I rub it on the sheet. The last thing I remember was the crash. Maria and I were riding our rented scooter through the Carpathian Mountains. Nearing dusk, we decided to head back down towards the villa. As we weaved our way downward, we were blinded by headlights coming around the bend. It was a narrow road, and the oncoming vehicle was enormous. I immediately ran out of asphalt, losing control. I think I remember telling my Maria to hold on. Even more foggy was the blurred sight of the two men dressed in blue helping me into the back of a white van. I lay in a mundane hospital bed with some redundant political crap airing on the television in a language I can't make out. Gray daylight seeps through the curtains of my window, providing the only light in the room other than the TV. I can feel the cool liquid entering my left arm, granting me the serenity to pass the time. This must be the feeling that fuels a new addiction . Every new dro