Corridor

by Martina Collender

Look it, have you ever woken in the dead of night? It’s so dark that for a second, just a split second, you think you’ve died. And you’re so scared. And you lie there, and you feel so horrible and so… alone, and all that crap, you know? Yeah, well, with every step I took, it felt like I was walking to the place where all those horrible feelings were born.

It’s funny, isn’t it, the way the human mind works? Memories, there, faded shadows are all just faded shadows that we dwell in every so often. I mean, it was just a corridor, just a walk down a corridor, and yet it’s that that sticks out. I remember the rest, obviously, of course I remember. But it’s all a blur, you know? I almost…trained myself, I suppose, not to think about it… everything. And I don’t, you know, I get on with my life, but it’s walking down that Godforsaken Corridor; it sneaks up on me. And it’s so clear. Every step I took echoed, and I can still hear it echoing in my mind. Who the hell am I to complain; there are so many others going through so much worse than me.

Look, I don’t want to talk about it ok, or, or need to.

I don’t want to waste another day.

I don’t want a hug.

I don’t want a tissue.

I don’t want to rent your shoulder to cry on.

I just, I just…

I just thought I’d tell you about the corridor, ‘cause I think it’s a bit mad, that it’s the one thing that sticks out. Yeah, I freaked out ok? You don’t get it. It was so messed up down there. It was like a forgotten place. It’s stupid, but it felt like I couldn’t smile down there because no one ever did or something. And with every step I took, I felt like once I got to the end I couldn’t go back. I’d be stuck there. Which is stupid ‘cause all I ever had to do was ask the nurse and make some bullshit small talk with her while she took forever to type out that code and let me out.

But sometimes, I’d think, if she can’t get out, then neither can I. Who decided she should stay and I should go? Stupid, so stupid, I know, she’s in the best place…or so I’ve been told. But she can’t decide when to go, you know? And even if she could, she’s locked in her own mind, and I swear if I knew how to make her better… but I didn’t. I don’t know. And I’d give anything to make her better. And maybe if she got better, she wouldn’t look so sad anymore.

You know, we were chatting once, she was in there a couple of months at this point, and we were just chatting, and she said: “You look wrecked, are you sleeping?” so I told her, cause’ she asked, I told her about waking in the dead of night, and it being so dark and thinking I’ve died for a split second and being so scared… and she told me, she said to me, that when she gets that feeling when she wakes, and it’s so dark that she thinks she’s died… she’s relieved.

Look I wasn’t the first, and I certainly won’t be the last, but when you see someone walking down that corridor… and I saw this one girl. And she was so small. And so young. And I would bet a diamond to a dollar that she didn’t know she was crying when she walked down that same corridor. And I wonder now, looking back, did I?