Get Up!

"Come on! Get up!" the voice in his head screamed. "What's wrong with you? You're just going to lay there?" Jim's eyes were closed. The burning in his abdomen was intolerable. "Get up! Get up! Up! Up! Up!" But Jim wouldn't hear any of it. He just wanted to stay there, on the cold, hard floor. A floor that was wetter and warmer than usual. Jim didn't want to listen to the voices in his head anymore.
"Get up, you son of a bitch! You're not just going to lay there like a little bitch." Jim wasn't listening. The voices had once taken control and brought his world crumbling down. It was because of the voices that he was away from his friends, his family, his... Annie was out there, somewhere. Jim hoped she was okay. Maybe she'll be happy with some other man.
"I hope so," Jim whispered.
"Get up!" the voices thundered in his head. Jim wasn't listening. Not anymore. Not ever. He reached for his abdomen and felt the knife deeply embedded a couple of inches above his belly button. "Get up!"
Jim smiled a bit as he saw the prison guards rushing into his cell. "I'm dying on my terms, not yours."
"Get up!"