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I let out a shaky breath and looked around the bland hospital room. I entangled my fingers in my lap, rubbing my palms together. I glanced between the clock and the door.
I smiled, I had really high hopes for today. I glanced at the window and saw my reflection in the glass. Sitting on the hospital bed, wearing a lap-over gown, my blonde hair was a mess, I ran my fingers through them to straighten them out.
The door opened and my eyes snapped to the doctor. I had been seeing her since I came here to Richmonte, she passed me a gentle smile, holding my file in her hands.
"What is it?" I asked as I couldn't hold in my excitement anymore.
"I have already told you to not expect anything so soon, Ella" the smile on her face wavered.
I closed my eyes and gazed into fields of nothingness; I knew what she was going to say. "You said that I was getting better"
"You are getting better but it doesn't mean-"
I felt a sudden sickening sensation throughout my body and cut her off, not wanting to hear it. "It's alright, it's not like I was expecting a miracle anyway."
"These are your test reports" she handed the file to me. "Your chances are slim to none, Ella. You're not going to..."
I took the file with trembling hands and placed it over my lap, staring down at them. The pounding of my heart overtook reality. I kept staring at the file as the doctor went on and on, her voice a distant echo.
I glanced back at her through blurred vision and nodded along with anything she told me. I changed into my clothes, the ones I wore for work today, and slung my bag over my shoulder.
I felt a lump in my throat but ignored it. My head shifted in the doctor's direction, and I flashed her a smile, I was fine... completely.
She prescribed me some more medicines, and I silently listened to every word of hers.
Grabbing my stuff, I left the hospital building and went to my car. I sat in the driving seat and stared at nothing in particular.
The loneliness plagued me with full force. I slowly rested my forehead over the steering wheel and finally let the tears flow. They silently dripped down my face but I didn't make a sound.
I grabbed a few tissues and patted my face dry before I started the car. My shaking hands went to the steering wheel, why was this so difficult, why the hell something so normal was so difficult for me? Can't I be just a normal person and not choke on my saliva every time I sit in the driver's seat? I let out a deep breath; I pressed the accelerator paddle and drove back to my home.
I parked my car and got out, I was feeling miserable and pathetic and that meant that the only thing that will help me right now is my self-destruct mode. I'm a masochist and pain is the only thing that makes me feel something other than this void, hollow feeling in my chest.
