ippo (
ippo) wrote in
damned_institute2011-08-01 11:15 am
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Night 57: Patient Records
[From here]
Ippo had never been prone to claustrophobia, but the small, packed room made him very uncomfortable. He had this fear that if he stayed in here too long, the towering metal shelves would cave in around him and trap him in the dark. No one would hear him and he would wither away slowly.
What a depressing existence! Sighing heavily, the boxer moped around the tall shelves with the utmost care. Every time he touched the frames to move between, they rattled back and forth and helped lodge Ippo's heart in his throat.
"Quickly, quickly," he muttered to himself as he tried to make sense of the organization. The English alphabet was a bit beyond him, so was his hospital alias for that matter, but he knew the characters for his name (or was it his ring name now?) in English. He would try under M first and hope they just filed him under Makunouchi like he assumed they should. Unfortunately, after flipping through every M, it was not meant to be. Ippo did, however, find himself under Mitsui. Hiro Mitsui, that sounded familiar.
He opened the thin manilla folder and balanced the flashlight under his chin to shine down on the printed pages inside. The first file was filled with common statistics: Height, weight, nothing out of the ordinary. Then he came across a list of notes and recommendations that had been signed by faceless doctors.
Most of what he read, Ippo simply couldn't comprehend it. These diagnostics were so ridiculous--not to mention wrong!--that it was like they were talking about a completely different person! The report did mention Miyata, however, and the boxer hoped he would finally figure out what had happened between them the last time they had met. He flipped to the next page, but it ended.
"What...?"
He flipped back, turned the page over, but there was no second page. The last few pages were leafed through, but nothing else Miyata was here.
"Damnit!" he cursed against the iron shelves, his fists bending his folder with the force of his frustration. Ippo had been so close to figuring this all out and it had ended miserably. The crestfallen patient did find a list of medications that doctors had suggested for his disorders through his frantic rifling. It may not have been exactly what he was looking for, but perhaps it could help him find the right pills in the infirmary.
Placing the folder back into its alphabetical slot, the young man left the suffocating room with his lists of drugs with grim determination.
Ippo had never been prone to claustrophobia, but the small, packed room made him very uncomfortable. He had this fear that if he stayed in here too long, the towering metal shelves would cave in around him and trap him in the dark. No one would hear him and he would wither away slowly.
What a depressing existence! Sighing heavily, the boxer moped around the tall shelves with the utmost care. Every time he touched the frames to move between, they rattled back and forth and helped lodge Ippo's heart in his throat.
"Quickly, quickly," he muttered to himself as he tried to make sense of the organization. The English alphabet was a bit beyond him, so was his hospital alias for that matter, but he knew the characters for his name (or was it his ring name now?) in English. He would try under M first and hope they just filed him under Makunouchi like he assumed they should. Unfortunately, after flipping through every M, it was not meant to be. Ippo did, however, find himself under Mitsui. Hiro Mitsui, that sounded familiar.
He opened the thin manilla folder and balanced the flashlight under his chin to shine down on the printed pages inside. The first file was filled with common statistics: Height, weight, nothing out of the ordinary. Then he came across a list of notes and recommendations that had been signed by faceless doctors.
Most of what he read, Ippo simply couldn't comprehend it. These diagnostics were so ridiculous--not to mention wrong!--that it was like they were talking about a completely different person! The report did mention Miyata, however, and the boxer hoped he would finally figure out what had happened between them the last time they had met. He flipped to the next page, but it ended.
"What...?"
He flipped back, turned the page over, but there was no second page. The last few pages were leafed through, but nothing else Miyata was here.
"Damnit!" he cursed against the iron shelves, his fists bending his folder with the force of his frustration. Ippo had been so close to figuring this all out and it had ended miserably. The crestfallen patient did find a list of medications that doctors had suggested for his disorders through his frantic rifling. It may not have been exactly what he was looking for, but perhaps it could help him find the right pills in the infirmary.
Placing the folder back into its alphabetical slot, the young man left the suffocating room with his lists of drugs with grim determination.
no subject
The patient did not want to stay long, but the room's til-now-silent occupants had other plans. As he approached the door, there came a skittering from underneath the shelves — and from above. Even from the walls, they scurried and scuttled. The roaches were out tonight, and they were hungry.
From all corners of the room, ten of them closed in on the door, intent on chasing their prey out into the dark hallway if they had to.
[Eryn]
aldhsklfj! u bad
In slow motion, Ippo turned to look behind him. On the floor in front of him was a giant beetle of some sort. Terror turned into astonishment when he saw just how big the insect was. His was an old house and more than once his mom and he had to tag team an infestation. Bugs were nothing to be afraid of... well... until they began to make a beeline for you in every direction! Nooo!!
He yelped at the sight of such aggression from a few brainless insects and backed up against the closed door. They aren't real, he kept telling himself, but it was hard to remain stoic when they began to crawl up his leg. Those were easy to kick off, but the ones coming at him from the walls were too agile. He tried to lean away from them and ultimately succeeded in opening the door with all of his cowering weight.
no subject