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Waking Up to Pain

Updated on August 25, 2017
coleikerd profile image

Stories move, define, and help us grow. Through stories we connect with and share new ideas. This is why Cole loves stories in all forms.

I run from the monster.

It's great heaving body close behind. Panting breath flowing past me with a stench of death. I feel it's weight behind me loping along as though effortlessly. I turn down an alley I know, where the beast is too big to move easily. I run down it far enough to force it's movement to be impeded. I turn and draw my sword in one fluid movement.

Surging with power, my body anticipates the coming battle. This is the moment; this is what this flesh was made to do. The monster attacks the only way it can, lunging forward awkwardly. Lightly, I side step. Power surging through my arms, I bring my sword down to slash at it's neck.

Darkness.

Sound pounds slowly into my head, rapid, loud and high.

Thunderous banging muted in the distance coupled with shrieks of what may be intelligent communication.

Ah, the joys of agony. This image was painted by Agnolo Bronzino around 1540-1545.
Ah, the joys of agony. This image was painted by Agnolo Bronzino around 1540-1545. | Source

Pain works it's way into my body like a well fitting suit. My feet feel the familiar press of ache that settles until it's almost unnoticed. The muscles in my legs pushing against their own skin as though ready to simultaneously explode and implode with a heavy cramp.

Gently cascading through my hands, the pain traces it's way, leaving hollow tunnels, from fingers to wrists before settling heavily in my forearms. The dull push against the inside of my elbows reminds me they are there too.

My spine is tense with a long familiar grip that seems to threaten throbbing torment. Flowing over my chest are pressing sensations that border on stabbing pain. In my right shoulder, the muscles remind me of over use and warn with their own weight on the bed that even light contact shoots pain throughout. Twisting with an unbalancing sensation, my neck calls out for a straightness that never seems possible. The back of my head has a steady pressure. I can't tell yet if it will turn into a headache.

The loud sounds seem to penetrate my skull and rattle around my brain like marbles. Headache it is.

I am awake.

I lie in bed, a normal morning. The shrieking sounds; the kids waking up and getting ready for the day. The standard use of the bathroom, changing clothes, and yelling because they don't have a volume control. The throbbing in my head is minimal today. A headache pressing on my ears and eyes, true. But not too bad considering. I rub my eyes and climb out of bed.

I do my best to go about my day without letting the pain show. Most days it's just easier to not mention it.

Some days, I wish I was running from a monster. Other days, I feel like I am.

Do you know anyone suffering from chronic pain? Maybe this helps understand it a little better.

© 2013 Cole Ikerd

Comments

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    • Cathy Fidelibus profile image

      Ms. Immortal 

      5 years ago from NJ

      Love your writing style, very well done.

    • coleikerd profile imageAUTHOR

      Cole Ikerd 

      5 years ago

      Thank you!

    • cam8510 profile image

      Chris Mills 

      5 years ago from Flagstaff, AZ

      Written in Classic, Flash Fiction style. Good story portraying a crippling condition. Nicely done.

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