𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕤

𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝕥𝕨𝕠

(TW: hospital shit, memories of past abuse)

The next few hours went by slowly. There was barely anything to do, it always hurt where the cut was, and the texture of the gauze on my stomach made me want to gouge my eyes out. I wasn't allowed to remove it.

Eventually, I turned my head as the sun started to set. I hadn't even noticed that I was in a different room until that moment. Albert notices that I'm staring out the window and moves so I can see the sky better.

"You're cute as hell, you know that?" He loosely grabs my hands. I don't even notice what he says, I'm too mesmerized by the stars slowly appearing as the sky grows darker. I looked for constellations and specific stars, completely losing interest in whatever's happening around me.

"Did you know that astronomers have divided the sky into 88 different constellations?" I blurt out. "Or that Hydra is the largest constellation by area, which takes up 3.16% of the sky? The smallest constellation is Crux, which only takes up 0.17 percent of the sky." My hand starts typing on an invisible keyboard as the people around me start to listen in. "Twenty two different constellation names start with the letter C. Caelum, Camelopardalis, Cancer, Canes Venatici, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Capricornus, Carina, Cassiopeia, Centaurus, Cepheus, Cetus, Chamaeleon, Circinus, Columba, Coma Berenices, Corona Australis, Corona Borealis, Corvus, Crater, Crux, and Cygnus."

And there I go. Rambling about space again. They don't seem to mind though. In fact, they seem to encourage it. But of course, all good things must come to an end. A doctor comes in and tells us that visiting hours are up, and that everyone needs to leave and let me sleep. Fuck. They say their goodbyes and leave.

The lights in my room go out, and I'm left staring at the ceiling, the only sound in the room being the machines and the ventilation. It's unsettling, to say the least. My thumb moves to my mouth and I start to nibble on my nail. The least I can do is try to sleep. I snuggle down next to Al's hoodie and the stuffed animal, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the bed is. I close my eyes as horrible experiences in the hospital from the past come back to me.

It wasn't often that my fathers punishments ended up with me in the hospital or bed-ridden, but I was so small and fragile at the time, we had no choice. I'll never forget how loud and scary my fathers voice was when I was laying on the hospital bed with a brace on my neck and back. The cuts and bruises stung my whole body, but I didn't dare say a word.

My breathing begins to quicken as memories comes flooding back to me. I quickly sit up, which causes the pain in my stomach to scream at me. Two nurses come running in as tears start streaming down my cheeks like my face is ducking Niagara Falls or some shit. They try to calm me down. It doesn't work. I pull Albert's hoodie closer to me, burying my face in the fabric. Sure enough, it still smells like him. The scent starts to calm me down. I feel slightly safer. One of the nurses turns on the lights, and I take the opportunity to use one of the mechanisms my therapist taught me.

Ok, 5 things you can see, Toni. Window, bed, machine, nurses, counter.

Four things you can hear...my breathing, the ventilation, the sounds of the nurse's shoes, the beeping of the machine next to me.

Three things you can feel...the bed, the gown, the hoodie.

Two things you can smell...the classic smell of a hospital, the hoodie.

One thing you can taste...I can't taste anything. I haven't had anything to eat or drink in a while.

My breathing returns to normal and I lay back down just as a third nurse walks in holding something. A leash? She brings it closer to me. A therapy dog? I sit up again, slowly this time, to see the golden retriever next to me. The dog gets placed next to me on the bed and I can't help but smile and scratch its head. The lights go out again and I lay back down to go to sleep, the dog curled up next to me.