teach me gently on how to breathe || tradley/brad

خائن

en español by Deiv17
em português by trsdley
in italiano by psychosan
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Maybe he should've been more careful - if that were possible.

It would've prevented his parents from overreacting and calling an ambulance for him. They'd already packed a bag for Brad, but didn't bother telling him he's being hospitalised until he didn't have the chance to interject.

"Your friends are worried about you, too," his mum explained after his dad dropped the news. Brad tried to slowly breathe in and out as he stood across from his parents, anger already boiling deep inside of him. They were a little army of two, and Brad was too small to defend for himself. "Even one of your teachers have come to me about your weight, Bradley. It's making everyone really upset."

Traitors, Brad angrily thinks as he lies in the ambulance. They're all traitors.

The ambulance pulls into a parking lot, surrounded by a field of bright green. It looks like a golf course. He eyes a large, black marble sign with 'Lynch Medical Center' printed on it in capital letters as the vehicle slows down. A weight tightens around his chest. He doesn't want to be here. How will he exercise in here? He doesn't want to let his body go again. He's finally strong. What will happen to that now?

His mum sympathetically places a hand on his arm like she can feel the panic rising inside of him. Brad shakes her hand off and gets out the ambulance. She looks pained causing the sixteen-year-old boy to feel a little bad, but he takes in the small, old-fashioned building in the center of the cut grass and his anger quickly eats the feeling away. If she really cared about him she wouldn't have sent him here.

A tall woman wearing a bright dress meets him at the door. She smiles when Brad approaches her alongside his mum whose pace he's struggling to keep up with. "This is the central medical center," she greets. "Here's where you get clearance."

The next minutes pass in a blur as Brad's guided to Admissions. Fortunately, his mum shortens her strides on the way and he finally has a chance to catch up with her. He eyes the old-fashioned furniture the room is decorated with: fancy carpeting, a grandfather clock. Everything is like a small spin on minimalistic, even the lights are dimmed. But even though the room is supposed to give off relaxed vibes, Brad feels like his brain is on fire.

After they take a blood sample, his mum gives him a long, uncomfortable hug. Brad stiffly stands in her embrace with his arms limply hanging by his side.

"Be good," she tells him, handing him his bag. He's not sure whether that's supposed to be humourous or not, but he doesn't reply. He doesn't have anything to say to her, anyway. "Love you."

Brad doesn't say anything again and she finally leaves the center. Now that he's really on his own, he looks around, nervously before deciding to fix his eyes on the square pattern decorating the carpeted floors as a nurse approaches him and introduces herself.

"I'm going to take you to your room," she tells him. "It's going to be where you'll stay for as long as you're here."

Duh, Brad thinks. He silently follows behind her, hands buried deep in his pockets.

They enter a small, singular room with bright blue walls and a bed. A sigh pushes pass Brad's lips as he drops his bag onto the bed and sadly unzips it. The nurse stands there, watching him unpack his clothes, pajamas, and some of his hygiene products. It becomes harder to breathe with each item he unpacks. Each thing is just another reminder he's going to be staying here. It's unreal. This kind of place used to be only what Brad saw when he's riding in a car and only what Brad hears about when he's watching talk shows about celebrities or overhearing someone gossiping about some girl in his school. Now that he's a part of one it feels surreal. He can't even breathe normally. Or maybe that's just a side effect of having bradycardia, which Brad still doesn't believe he has. His heart rate feels just as normal as anyone else's.