Zoe Zombie

I was looking at my tortured self from across a dank room. I was lying in a dentist’s chair only I was not at the dentist. I was in a demented looking hospital. The white tiled walls had been tarnished from years of neglect. Smudges and splatters remained dry on the walls.  Medical equipment was everywhere but it was obvious they had not been used in a long time. Their parts had gathered dust and dirt and appeared to be broken. However, there was one machine still working but at the time I was unsure of what it was. It was a clear, dome shaped thing placed right next to me in the chair.

I watched myself on this chair. My shin was pale, my eyes were dark and sunken and I was looking exactly in the direction where I was standing in the door way, looking at myself almost pleading for help. But my eyes were hollow, like I had already died. There was no emotion in them.

My body was bent in a uncomfortable state and my hair - blonde - was matted to my head. My clothes were sticking to me from the sweat. A mask covered my mouth and nose - like an oxygen mask. Only the clear tube that ran from the mask went to the machine next to me.

There was a man beside me, who was dressed like a doctor. Only he didn’t seem like he was a doctor - more like a mad scientist type. He was middle aged and his cheeks were sunken. His eyes seemed like they were bulging out.  He clutched his clipboard and looked at me - the me in the chair - almost like I was a cancer to him, a disease.

But the me in the chair didn’t care for him. I just kept looking at myself in the door way, wheezing. What the fuck was going on, I thought to myself, the me in the doorway. How did I get here? Why do I look like I am dieing?

The machine that was working seemed to turn on. It was buzzing quietly and I watched it, wondering what was happening. Then all of a sudden the me in the chair started squirming and looked as though she tried to yell out but couldn’t. I started to panic, what was happening? Then it hit me suddenly also - the feeling of having my insides ripped out. I clutched to the door frame as I lost my balance and dropped to my knees, only I didn’t try to scream. I couldn’t. It was like something had gone down my throat and started pulling out my stomach.

The doctor didn’t flinch and didn’t notice me in the doorway, but constantly watched my tortured self in the chair. I squirmed around menacingly. I was sure if I could scream, I would have screamed for help but I just couldn’t.

Then the pain stopped.  I desperately gasped for air and started coughing so much that I thought I was going to throw up. I needed air. I got up, hoping to open my chest and bring more air into it but the machine caught my eye. It was now filled with a black liquid. It wasn’t pitch black, but looked as though ash was mixed with water. Crouching on my knees, I peered at myself in the chair. There was blood around my mouth and coming from my nose. Before I could think of what was happening, the machine started up again. The me in the chair started crying, but never took her eyes off. I wanted to ask her what was happening and how I got here, but an immense pain ran through both of our bodies and I fell back.

The pain stopped and I sat up and crawled back into the room. I looked at the machine and it was now filled with blood and blood clots.

I yelled out in desperation, “What’s happening?!”

The doctor turned to me finally - seeing that I existed. He didn’t seem shocked that an exact replica of the person in the chair was standing in the doorway.

He pointed to the machine.

“See that?”

It was polluted with blood clots and murky water.

I nodded, dumbfounded. I looked at myself in the chair. The blood had dried from my mouth and nose, but I was still wheezing and looking to myself for help.

“That is what happens to smokers. That is what is inside your body. See that black stuff? That should not be black. It should be clear. And well, the blood clots.. you wouldn’t have them in the first place if you didn’t smoke.”

The me in the chair started crying and closed her eyes. She looked away from me and to the wall in front of her. I looked at the doctor and then back at myself. I was absolutley speechless.

Suddenly I was sucked back into reality. I woke up instantly and thought about what I had just dreamed. I had quit smoking a while ago. But it was obvious to me that if anything was every going to kill me, if there was anything that would stop me from enjoying my life, if there was anything that would dramatically shorten my life, if there was anything that would make me more ill and vulnerable to cancer -  it would be smoking.

I refuse to end up like the me in the chair.

Categorized as humour