IWuzHeer

I hear the whispers in the wind. They rush in my ears, drowning me as surely as water poured down my throat; I am suffocating under the blanket of noise. What noise? I blink and shake my head to clear my thoughts. The whispers dissipate as rapidly as fog on a hot summer morn, and suddenly I can hear my name being spoken repeatedly in a voice full of concern. “Marion? Marion? Marion… Can you hear me?” It’s that doctor, old Janson, again. I can feel my lip curl in distaste. This same lousy excuse for a doctor has visited me each day since I was given a room here, always carrying his bloody clipboard and refusing to loo