Some things are defined by their absence. Other things are defined by the absence of something else.
The shadows on the ceiling were defined and outlined by light, and they were describing the position of the police on the other side of the glass. They were both sitting down, so I began my escape .
I started by twisting my head side to side until I could get past the tape that was pinning my head down. I ripped some skin off my head and was bleeding a little, but my head was free. That was step one, and the beginning of the end of my stay in that hospital. Soon I would be defined by my absence.
I was strapped down to an older hospital bed, it wasn't motorized, so it worked by ratcheting up and down manually. To get the top to go down to level, you had to push a button and it would go down slowly, that would have been impossible for me.
But I wanted it to go all the way up, and I was able to do that by using every muscle in my back and my core, ratcheting it up click by click. The first click was loud enough that I could see the shadows on the ceiling shuffle around, one of the cops was standing up to look in the window of the room. Somehow he didn't notice my head was free. He was standing and facing the window, and I heard him tell his partner "He's not going anywhere".
I got lucky like that several times that night.
I could feel my stomach muscles tearing with every click as I slowly got the back of the bed all the way up, to almost a 90 degree angle. How could they not notice that big of a change? I don't know, I guess because it happened click by click. That was more luck.
But I was also truly inspired that night.
Inspired because I was definitely gonna get some time for my shenanigans earlier in the day. They would charge me with assaulting an officer, and inciting a riot, at the very least. Add escape and evasion to that, and suddenly your'e a star.
I looked down at the buckle of the strap that was holding my right arm to the rail of the bed, and it seemed like it was a million miles away.
