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Summary
Sometimes, Eddie considered that everything would have been a lot easier if he’d just gotten eaten to death by demonic fucking bats. Instead, he’d woke up in a hospital hooked up to a dozen machines. And he’d stayed there for weeks, doing what the doctors told him to do, watching the lies on the news with a numb feeling of disconnect, and nodding when he had visitors and they asked him questions.
Everything felt distant. Far away. He tried to explain it to Wayne, once, who looked at him with his sad, tired eyes, and said, “You’ll feel better once you get out of here.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding along like the good little bobble-head he’d become. He hoped it was true. And then he got out of there, and he found out that it wasn’t.