Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. Don't spend too much time on it. It doesn't have to be perfect. The idea is to let your mind wander and write what it will. I'll also write something using the same three words.
Be sure to leave a comment if you participate.
This week's words are:
What's that pain in my chest? Why won't it stop? I can feel my pulse. It's right there at my heart. It's gotta be my heart. Stop. Why won't it stop?! OK. Relax. If I turn over on my back, it'll stop. It's just how I'm lying.
No. Still there. Think about something else. The football game. We won. That's good. It's not working. How can I not think about this pain in my chest? What if I'm having a heart attack? I eat fast food every meal. Maybe it's a small one. I've heard of those. Like earthquakes. You don't even realize you're having one. And then it's gone.
Why won't it stop? Pulsing. Hurting. What if it's an aneurysm? Maybe I should call someone. It's midnight. They'll think I'm crazy. But what if it is an aneurysm? And I die. And they find me in two or three days.
I should write a note. Yes, that's it. I can write a note explaining that I think I'm having an aneurysm. And I can say all the things I've always wanted to say. And then if they find me, they'll know how I felt. Mom. Dad. My sister. My friends. And if it's not an aneurysm, then I can throw it away in the morning.
No, that's stupid! Who writes a note for something like this? Who would even think of such a thing. What is wrong with me? But something is. People don't just have pains do they? Or maybe they do. Maybe this is normal. Or maybe it's not.
Maybe it's something serious. I have pains in my head all the time. What if I have a tumor? I don't want to know. What if they tell me I have two weeks to live? I'm not going to the doctor. If I don't go, nothing will happen.
I'm not ready to die. God, please. I'm not ready. I'm young. I know I haven't lived the best. But I'm not ready. For eternity. It never ends. How can that be? Forever and ever and ever and ever with no end. I can't think about that. It drives me crazy. But it's coming. There's no way out. Once you're born, you're here, somewhere, forever!
I have to get up. I scream. I walk around the room. My throat is dry. I go downstairs and get some water. It doesn't phase my parched throat. I get on my knees. God, please. I'm in tears. Please. Let me live a normal life. Just thirty more years. That's not much. That's not even average. Just to 63.
What if it's cancer? My parents never had cancer. Why should I? Why can't I live to my mid-50's with no serious problems like them? Something is wrong with me. Why do I have these little pains? I have to sleep. I have to forget this. What is wrong with me?
"Bouts of fear permeate all I see. Heightening nervousness threatens me. I am paralyzed. So afraid to die..."