07-10-2025, 01:16 PM
The Bed Neighbor
As I walk past the disco, I notice that my arch-enemy's car is parked right in front. I take out my pocket knife and stab all four of his tires, and then I pull out my key and scratch the paint.
I feel relieved to vent all my anger and frustration on his car.
All the bullying and insults I had to endure at school. Suddenly, he comes out of the disco, sees me by his car, and runs towards me, hitting me. I hit back, reach into my jacket pocket where the pocket knife is, and suddenly I hear a bang.
I wake up and realize that I dreamed all of this, but the shot was quite loud and real. When I look out my window, I see it. Where the window glass used to be, there is now a hole, and outside stands my arch-enemy with a gun, randomly shooting around in the street.
I feel myself being shaken and slowly wake up properly. I realize I am in the hospital, and when I look at the clock, I am startled; it shows 7:00 PM. I have slept for over 24 hours—all a dream. In reality, I was afraid of him and ran to the car when he chased after me. Next to me lies Simon. He is writing something down. I am on the phone with my girlfriend, and she visited me today while I was sleeping. She has a big problem with my bed neighbor Simon.
Simon
Dear Diary,
Today I got a new bed neighbor who is really sweet but has a girlfriend. I will probably never get healthy, and I won't have a boyfriend either. The chief doctor was also here and took my blood again, talking about how I could go home. Home, my parents still think I will get better, and they have only visited me at Christmas in the last 6 months. My parents came shortly after the doctor left. They said I will go to the children's and youth hospice and that I will never come home again. They probably don't want a son who is just vegetating there. I screamed at them to leave and that I never want to see them again. The pastor also came today, as she does every Wednesday; we talked about God and the world, but especially about death. I told her that I am afraid of dying. She told me that it is not that tragic and asked if something is bothering me. I only told her about my parents. But what also bothers me, namely that I find boys sweet, I couldn't tell her. What keeps me alive is, among other things, the hope that I will find true love, but I am afraid that if I do, I will die and then make my love sad, which weighs heavily on me. I just heard how the sweet bed neighbor yelled into the phone that if she has a problem visiting him just because he shares a room with me, she should go to hell. He was really sweet when he was angry. Somehow I have the feeling that I have fallen in love with him; he keeps looking at me, maybe my biggest wish will come true.
Until next time, Diary
Your Simon
I closed my diary and asked my bed neighbor if I could turn off the light. He said yes, of course, good night.
The next morning, a nurse comes in and wakes us up. I wake up and feel nauseous, just like every day. I quickly run to the toilet. The nurse smiles at me lovingly when I come back from the toilet. My bed neighbor looks at me when I am back in bed and then asks me, "How are you? Can I ask why you are in the hospital?"
I answer him with a smile: "I am doing well for today. I am here in the hospital because I..."
The door opens, and the chief doctor comes in. The daily rounds.
I lie in bed all day and am bored. I am currently watching the news on TV. They are talking about Fridays for Future. I discuss it with my bed neighbor. He tells me that there is a campaign called City for Future. I ask him how he knows that; he tells me he actually intended to submit a poem. Which he is no longer doing because of his accident. I ask if he has already written the poem or still needs to write it. He says with a slight smile that he is almost finished with the poem. He would like to read it to me when it is done. I tell him gladly; it is always so boring here, listening to a poem would lighten up the monotonous everyday life. The chief doctor comes in today and has the results of the blood test with him. From his face, it seems he has no good news for me.
As I walk past the disco, I notice that my arch-enemy's car is parked right in front. I take out my pocket knife and stab all four of his tires, and then I pull out my key and scratch the paint.
I feel relieved to vent all my anger and frustration on his car.
All the bullying and insults I had to endure at school. Suddenly, he comes out of the disco, sees me by his car, and runs towards me, hitting me. I hit back, reach into my jacket pocket where the pocket knife is, and suddenly I hear a bang.
I wake up and realize that I dreamed all of this, but the shot was quite loud and real. When I look out my window, I see it. Where the window glass used to be, there is now a hole, and outside stands my arch-enemy with a gun, randomly shooting around in the street.
I feel myself being shaken and slowly wake up properly. I realize I am in the hospital, and when I look at the clock, I am startled; it shows 7:00 PM. I have slept for over 24 hours—all a dream. In reality, I was afraid of him and ran to the car when he chased after me. Next to me lies Simon. He is writing something down. I am on the phone with my girlfriend, and she visited me today while I was sleeping. She has a big problem with my bed neighbor Simon.
Simon
Dear Diary,
Today I got a new bed neighbor who is really sweet but has a girlfriend. I will probably never get healthy, and I won't have a boyfriend either. The chief doctor was also here and took my blood again, talking about how I could go home. Home, my parents still think I will get better, and they have only visited me at Christmas in the last 6 months. My parents came shortly after the doctor left. They said I will go to the children's and youth hospice and that I will never come home again. They probably don't want a son who is just vegetating there. I screamed at them to leave and that I never want to see them again. The pastor also came today, as she does every Wednesday; we talked about God and the world, but especially about death. I told her that I am afraid of dying. She told me that it is not that tragic and asked if something is bothering me. I only told her about my parents. But what also bothers me, namely that I find boys sweet, I couldn't tell her. What keeps me alive is, among other things, the hope that I will find true love, but I am afraid that if I do, I will die and then make my love sad, which weighs heavily on me. I just heard how the sweet bed neighbor yelled into the phone that if she has a problem visiting him just because he shares a room with me, she should go to hell. He was really sweet when he was angry. Somehow I have the feeling that I have fallen in love with him; he keeps looking at me, maybe my biggest wish will come true.
Until next time, Diary
Your Simon
I closed my diary and asked my bed neighbor if I could turn off the light. He said yes, of course, good night.
The next morning, a nurse comes in and wakes us up. I wake up and feel nauseous, just like every day. I quickly run to the toilet. The nurse smiles at me lovingly when I come back from the toilet. My bed neighbor looks at me when I am back in bed and then asks me, "How are you? Can I ask why you are in the hospital?"
I answer him with a smile: "I am doing well for today. I am here in the hospital because I..."
The door opens, and the chief doctor comes in. The daily rounds.
I lie in bed all day and am bored. I am currently watching the news on TV. They are talking about Fridays for Future. I discuss it with my bed neighbor. He tells me that there is a campaign called City for Future. I ask him how he knows that; he tells me he actually intended to submit a poem. Which he is no longer doing because of his accident. I ask if he has already written the poem or still needs to write it. He says with a slight smile that he is almost finished with the poem. He would like to read it to me when it is done. I tell him gladly; it is always so boring here, listening to a poem would lighten up the monotonous everyday life. The chief doctor comes in today and has the results of the blood test with him. From his face, it seems he has no good news for me.