Bleed from within - The Music

Lying on a medical table wasn’t something I did every day. O’Riley’s music had barely finished and I suddenly found myself facing the ceiling of a sweaty wrestling locker room. I didn’t mind too much though. In fact, I didn’t mind at all, because my head was elsewhere.

And, yes, it sounds cliché, but my head was in the clouds. It had been for an awfully long time.

“Just tilt your head back a little, Chris,” said the Doctor, whilst shining a torch in my face. I didn’t feel it though. My eyes were fixated with the ceiling… but I couldn’t actually see what I was looking at. Each crack in the roof manifested into a physical part of my anatomy. It was as if I was breaking up inside.

“You’re internally bleeding,” said the Doctor, as he tried to bandage my ribs with a look of concern.

I didn’t need a fucking doctor to tell me that.

Tiny red vessels race around my body freely looking for an escape. After all, every drop of claret dreams to see the light of day. They’re sadistic like that. They always look for an open wound to hop out of. But, such was the intensity of my rage, that I wouldn’t give them their chance to laugh at me. I’d bottle it all up inside of me…

Even if it killed me.

“I really think we ought to get you to a hospital,” declared the man in the white coat, whilst nodding his head. Just because the guy had a bunch of qualifications, I was expected to value his opinion. Well, excuse me for professing to know my own body better than him, but his words meant jack shit to me.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with my physical form. My legs still felt strong and my breathing was spot on. However, I’ve lived with myself since… well, the beginning of time – and knew something was definitely wrong.

That’s when I sat up, much to the surprise of the Doctor.

“Mr. Champion? Are you ok?” he said, obviously unnerved by my sudden movement.

Slowly, I cocked and turned my head, deeply sighing. Then, it came. A confession.

“No,” I proclaimed proudly, as if I was giving a speech at a wedding reception. “I am far from okay.”

And, FUCK, did it ache!

Looking around the medical room though, there was no one left to turn to. Georgina had watched the show from her apartment. Collins had already gone home. Hell, even Dylan O’Riley’s face would have helped somewhat. No such luck though. A few of the HWF’s big wigs and a lowly Doctor was the only accompaniment I had.

“Help! I need somebody.”

It’s a fantastic Beatles track and it rolled away from my tongue eerily. All those years ago, I’d turned to my parents for guidance and support. My Dad was a huge fan of the Fab Four, in particular, and I guess that’s why those were the first words to trickle from my mouth – but, the problem remained that my parents still resided in my homeland. They were out sight and out of reach… and that’s the way I’d wanted it for so long.

The argument inside of me raged on as I proceeded to kick the living shit out of every available muscle in my body. Claret colored liquid battered my chest, pounding at my heart. Something or someone wanted me to die – I was convinced.

I think perhaps the Doctor recognized that something wasn’t quite right. My eyes were glazed over and I’d been reduced to a zombie like state of euphoric attachment to my nervous system. I twitched, blinked and almost dared my body to function properly… and for a time… it did.

Suddenly, I felt both excited and terrified at the same time. A sense of relief and unadulterated pain captivated my body, sending blood spurting from my mouth… and, in turn, a sickening thud onto the concrete floor beneath me.

Black... or even white?