Visiting Daniel

    The scent of disinfectant scorched my nose with 
cleanliness as I slowly walked down the long searing 
white hallway. I had come to the hospital as though on 
a mission to conquer my own fear of the truth. To make 
a concrete creation out of my fears. One of my best 
friends and the only man I loved had been in a nearly 
fatal car accident. The artificial cold makes me feel 
dry all over except around my eyes, which anxiously 
begin to fill with moisture. It is so cold it is like 
fire. As I head toward the door to his room, I shiver 
both with anticipation, and burning. As I grasp the 
door handle, my hand becomes a slug, refusing to move; 
refusing to turn. 
    It has always been a habit of mine to take a 
breath and hold it before any situation that scares 
me. I  let it out only once I am completely aware of 
my new surrounding. That way there is no gap between 
the past and the present. I take a part of the 
unknowing past with me.
	I inhale deeply and  force my hand to turn the 
knob. The corner of my eyes catches the first glance 
of his body, and it feels like falling. My eyes run 
the course of his body, flat under the sheets. He is a 
corpse but not. His arms are crossed over him, as 
though holding him inside of himself. His back lays 
flat. His head is a peeled banana turned brown; blood 
incases it, thick and dark. My eyes meet his, he is 
watching me watch him. His eyes seem blank and empty, 
hollow. Something in those eyes made me aware. He did 
this on purpose. 
	I exhale.