If death had a scent it would smell like hospital. If that smell had a taste it would taste like the yellow fester-poss being squeezed into your mouth from some old sore of a rottening foot. The scent of disinfectant, medicine, raw open cuts and stale sores make me want to fill my mouth with my own vomit. Vance was unconscious on a hospital mattress that was as thick as a BNS credit card. The shiny aluminium base has four wheels. The white pillow cases seem white straight through but it’s the white sheet spread that’s getting to me. It has a pale brown spot that just freaks me out looking at it. It just says death. Makes mi wonder who died in this bed? Did they make that spot? How many died in this bed? Mi can’t get rid of thoughts like these whenever mi inside one hospital. The last time mi get one asthma attack, mi ask Daddy to carry my own sheet. Mi think ’bout death and mi heart start behave bad, get weak to know my brother battling for his life in the said bed. Whether or not mi did lick Nathan’s galfriend in her face and mash down Nathan, Vance heart would still attack him.
