Here I am again lying on the bed. I am a patient, and this is for my hundred times. I can even collect hospital wristbands for how many times I’ve been here. I don’t know what to do, I want to get out of here, but what can I do, if my heart and body both wanted to give up. I can’t take this anymore, seeing lots of patients, sitting in the big chair with wheels, where their eyes were looking so blue, and some were lying on those bed sheets fighting from death, again and again. I can’t even look at them, I feel their pain. And the sounds of crying and screaming patients. The heart monitor, vitals constant beep and the constant hiss of an oxygen machine or respirator, their sounds were terrifying me. The hospital smell, a particular disinfectant that hospitals prefer to use, I feel the suffering of thousands of patients. It makes me sick even more. Please help me remove all these machines and medicines put in my body, I’m tired, I don’t want here. This is not all I need; I don’t want to be a prison here. Let me get out of here.