But I Miss Him to Death

The first thing that Sarawat sees when he forces his eyes open are the clouds.

They are orange, dyed by the setting sun. Behind them, the sky is a darkening blue, pink and purple, and as he lets out a strangled breath, fog floats from his mouth, grey smoke mingling with the air and he feels as though he's choking with every wheezing breath.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

The second thing he sees are the people surrounding him. They seemed rushed, kneeling in the harsh pavement as if the roughness wasn't bothering them. It isn't really bothering him; he felt numb, like all his senses were dulled. But he knows there are shards of glass draped all over and underneath him; knows that there is something sticky and thick trickling down his forehead.

His mind is moving sluggishly as he tries to figure out what is happening — but everything is blank. He cannot conjure a single thought to his head, as he laid there, not moving, trying to breathe and choking on air.

• • •

Something is quickly placed over his mouth and nose, and oxygen rushes to his lungs. The people surrounding him are talking, but he can barely hear what they are saying — all he hears is a violent ringing in his ears, constant, loud and never-ending.

As he stares at them, watching their mouths and bodies moving above him, his eyes begin to slide shut, suddenly too heavy to keep open. He doesn't fight the urge, and let it overtake him, until there is nothing left but darkness.

• • •

When Sarawat wakes up, he has no idea where he is. He can barely creak his eyes open, letting them flutter just long enough for him to see a plain white ceiling above him before they snapped shut again.

There is a dull pain pounding in his head, and his chest feels like it had been torn apart and sewn back together. The loud ringing is gone from his ears now, but it feels like someone had covered his right ear, stuffed it with cotton and completely blocking any noise from entering. He doesn't understand what had happened or what is going on, and the confusion of it all just made him want to go back to sleep.

But while he laid there, letting the pain wash over him, a pair of voice starts talking quietly close by. He can only make out a few snatches of words, none of which made any sense to him.

"... head on collision ... I'm sorry ..."

"... we tried everything we could ..."

"... permanent ... possible ... implant ..."

Sarawat can't hear anything else that was said after that, so he just let the darkness slowly come back to him, enveloping him just as a door somewhere opened, and a set of footsteps walks in.

• • •

The room is dark now, the only light coming from somewhere is outside the glass door. Sarawat's vision is fuzzy and keeps dancing in and out of the dark, and his mind can barely comprehend what is going on. He's numb, can barely feel his skin, like he's been doped up with a cocktail of drugs.

There is some sort of tube shoved in his mouth, held in place by straps wrapped around his head, and he could hear, faintly, the sounds of different machines beeping and whirring beside him. He can feel a faint, dull ache pounding through his body, though there is no extreme pain; he feels almost weightless, like he is floating through the air instead of lying in a hospital bed.

Off to the side, someone moved, and Sarawat realises there is a hand on his arm, very light and gentle and warm. The person shifts so that they hover over him, their face shifting in and out of focus and he couldn't make out any of their features.