They say that just before you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. Imagine that. Imagine every single god awful decision that you’ve ever made just whisking by to remind you how much you fucked your life up. That doctor you should never have gone home with, those pair of panties you should have never left, the patient that you could have saved... I wish I’d had that. I wish I’d had that chance but just my luck I got the pain instead.
No one tells you about the pain. No one tells you about the agony. No, they tell you about bright lights and tunnels and feeling at peace and seeing your life flash before your eyes. They don’t tell you about the pain. Well, maybe Cristina would tell me about the pain but George? No, George would sugar coat it all the way until I was thinking about cute little cupids and big pearly gates. If I’d known about the pain I would’ve asked for morphine, stat.
Still, if I’d known I was going to get murdered by a vampire I doubt I would’ve left the house this morning. Or come to this city, I mean it’s not something they like to advertise. Come to Seattle, see the sights, have some lunch and hey, how about you be lunch? No, they sure missed that out of the brochure. Maybe next time I’ll remember not to take candy from strangers or help fifteen year old girls out when they look like they’re in trouble. Not that I get a next time. No do-overs for me.
Except if that was the case how am I still monologuing?
“Meredith, why are you in the morgue?”
George. Oh, God, George I’m sorry. But I’m just so damn thirsty.
Monologues in the Morgue. Grey's Anatomy/Twilight. Meredith, George, Bree. PG also character death.
No one tells you about the pain. No one tells you about the agony. No, they tell you about bright lights and tunnels and feeling at peace and seeing your life flash before your eyes. They don’t tell you about the pain. Well, maybe Cristina would tell me about the pain but George? No, George would sugar coat it all the way until I was thinking about cute little cupids and big pearly gates. If I’d known about the pain I would’ve asked for morphine, stat.
Still, if I’d known I was going to get murdered by a vampire I doubt I would’ve left the house this morning. Or come to this city, I mean it’s not something they like to advertise. Come to Seattle, see the sights, have some lunch and hey, how about you be lunch? No, they sure missed that out of the brochure. Maybe next time I’ll remember not to take candy from strangers or help fifteen year old girls out when they look like they’re in trouble. Not that I get a next time. No do-overs for me.
Except if that was the case how am I still monologuing?
“Meredith, why are you in the morgue?”
George. Oh, God, George I’m sorry. But I’m just so damn thirsty.
“Mere? Mere-aaaah.....”