Throughout the day many voices would visit to the patient, some would try and calm her others would try to interrogate her.
Some of them were successful in calming her but when they left the many beeps and pops of the machinery were always enough to push her mind over, and then once again she would scream and beg for the release of death.
Those that tried to get information out of her would also be disappointed, the answers she gave did not make sense to both her and her interrogators.
Their voices sounded rough sometimes and other times kind and feminine. After some time the patient in her boredom started trying to visualize the voices she heard, she imagined some of them to be large and imposing possibly with horns protruding from their heads others were how she imagined angels to look like. Both thoughts brought her closer to madness.
Though no matter how bad things got a peculiar sound always gave her hope. The sound came from behind a wall and grew louder as the days progressed.
On a particularly sunny day, despite the sky still remaining pitch black she heard a peculiar voice, but in her mind not an angel or demon materialized. There was already a face matched with that particular voice.
The voice was raised slightly, demanding to see the sargent. The patient could see his face so clearly in the darkness. John smith was here, to rescue her? to interrogate her? she didn't mind either way. The thought that she would be able to "see" him while they spoke was the enticing part. She didn't hear him enter in her haze of thought.
"Sargent One eye?"
The thought did make the patient tear up a bit. Still there was something humorous about the situation.
"You're a bit too late kid"
She said gesturing to the bandage wrapping both of her eyes. The "kid" stayed silent, the room followed his lead. In the silence the patient could hear the sound of uncomfortable fidgeting coming from the private. The sound stopped abruptly.
"You will always be a sargent to me"
The patient straightened her head in disbelief.
"They're taking my job"
The blood drained from her face along with all hope in her mind of leaving this hell.
"I thought you knew"
John smith replied, shocked. His sargent was shocked as well but she could not process the emotion the way her subordinate could.
The nurses in the area were quickly alerted and rushed to the source of the unholy sound.
"Calm down sarge my cousin owns this restaurant down in-"
"Fuck your cousin! and fuck you John...did you even try to stop them?"
"Wh-Yes they wouldn't listen to John Senior why would they listen to me. Just calm-"
A bouquet of flowers flew from towards John but landed on the wall next to him, the vase that formerly held the flowers came next. It too missed its target.
"Aww c'mon sarge, you're making a scene"
The former sargent awkwardly stood up and using her sense of touch had found the window and opened it. By this time several of the nurses had tackled her to the ground, in their attempts to restrain her the nurses put their collective weight onto the admittedly small framed sargent. She cried and as the collective weight of the staff pinched her voice she yelled.
That was the last time John had seen his former superior, dribbling on the floor crying his name while being crushed by the weight of seven male nurses.