Kayla- Hospital.

Sickly white walls that entrap you in a small secluded room all your own, where all you can do is think and listen to sounds of the nurses out in the halls making plans and sometimes even talking of charts.

The smell of death and bleach all around you. It encases you in a cocoon of scents that suffocate your senses.

Monitors beeping, IVs dripping in a steady rhythm, televisions blasting, people laughing as if nothing bad is going on. As if no one is dying in the room right next to theirs.

Tasteless food sent to your small secluded room that you have to eat. It burns your tongue as you eat and leaves an after-taste of bitter regret.

Nurses that pretend to care, or sometimes not even pretending at all.

Distantly heard are cries coming from family members of the recently deceased.

At night, not being able to sleep. To give up your sweet control to the the people that could so easily kill you, so you stay awake and you think and listen to sounds of the last place that you wish to be. Because if anything, you can drown yourself in everything that is going on instead of focusing on why you are even there in the first place.