The Diary of Evergreen Evelyn

HEALTH CHECK UP part 2

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Ed and Sam exchanged a knowing glance as they guided me into the Sam's cabin. The sterile surroundings intensified my unease, and I found myself whimpering as I hesitated at the doorway.

"Eve, for goodness' sake, this is for your own well-being," Sam's insistence cut through, his patience showing signs of wear.Reluctantly, I stepped inside, the clinical surroundings exacerbating my anxiety. Ed attempted a comforting smile, but my nerves were already stretched.

"I can't believe you're making such a fuss about a simple check-up," Sam scolded, his professional demeanor momentarily replaced by a stern brotherly tone.

"But I hate needles, Sam. I really do," I protested, my voice shaky.

"You're a grown-up, Eve. It's time to face these things head-on," Sam retorted, his frustration evident.

We entered the examination room.

Inside the examination room, the sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and I anxiously clutched the edge of the chair. Sam, donned in a pristine white coat, took charge with an air of authority.

Ed, sensing the tension, attempted to mediate. "Let's try to make this as smooth as possible. Sam, maybe you can explain the procedure to Eve and help her understand."

Sam sighed, relenting a bit. "Fine.  it's just a routine check-up. A few tests, nothing to be scared of."
Despite the reassurance, my fear persisted. As the examination unfolded, my whimpers grew into full-blown cries, echoing through the sterile room and drawing disapproving glances from both Ed and Sam.
"Eve, this is getting dramatic," Sam scolded, adjusting his approach to the examination.
Ed chimed in with a gentle rebuke, "We're here to ensure your well-being, Eve. Crying won't change that."
With each passing moment, the scolding intensified, Sam's firmness mirroring his commitment to my health. Despite the discomfort and the tears they pressed on, urging me to endure the necessary procedures.

As the examination got over, Sam took a step back and glanced at Ed.
"Alright, Eve, we need to take two blood samples," Sam declared, his tone unwavering.
Upon hearing those dreaded words, my cries escalated into full-blown sobs. The mere mention of needles intensified my distress, and I began to hyperventilate.

Sam, attempting reassurance, spoke gently, "Eve, it's necessary for the tests. It'll be quick, I promise."

But quick or not, my fear overwhelmed me, and I cried harder. Sam's attempts at reassurance only seemed to amplify the sound of my distress.

Ed, his patience wearing thin, scolded, "Eve, enough! You're making this harder for everyone. Sam is trying to help you."

Despite Ed's scolding and Sam's attempts at comfort, my hyperventilation continued.

My cries morphed into desperate sobs, the sound filling the sterile atmosphere. "Sam, please, I can't do this," I pleaded, my voice shaky with fear.

"Eve, I need you to calm down," Sam insisted, his tone steady as he prepared the syringe with meticulous precision.

"But I can't, Sam! I really can't," I negotiated, hyperventilating between my desperate pleas.

Ed, with an authoritative tone, scolded, "Enough is enough, Eve. You're making a scene. Sam is here to help, and you need to cooperate."

Despite Ed's stern scolding, my hyperventilation persisted, the air thick with the palpable struggle between fear and necessity. Sam, undeterred, approached with the syringe, his movements deliberate and focused.

"Eve, this won't take long. You can do it," he encouraged, attempting to instill confidence in the face of my escalating distress.

"This is too much, Sam! Please, can't we find another way?" I negotiated, my attempts at reason punctuated by the uneven rhythm of my breath.

Ed, with a stern tone, continued his scolding, "This behavior is unacceptable. Embrace yourself, young lady."

As Sam prepared to administer the first blood sample, my distress reached its peak. Ed's scolding intensified, a desperate attempt to compel me through the necessary procedure.

"Just hold still, Eve. It'll be over soon," Sam reassured, his unwavering focus on the task at hand.

In a final plea, I whimpered, "Sam, please, I can't handle this. It's too much," the negotiation tinged with desperation.

But as Sam placed the tourniquet on my hand, the combination of fear and tension proved overwhelming. Overwhelmed, I felt the world blur, and before anyone could react, darkness enveloped me, and I fainted. The room, filled with the scent of antiseptic and the weight of the medical drama, became eerily silent, punctuated only by the remnants of my futile negotiations and the scolding that echoed in the sterile air.

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A/N : As the story unfolds, will her brother be swayed by her plea, or will unforeseen obstacles arise? Are you intrigued by the unfolding drama, and would you cast your vote to influence the narrative?
Also Let me know if you're eager to read the story.