Let me show you a scene.
She's in a room somewhere. She's sitting on one of those cold plastic chairs. Her hands folded above her knees. Her thumbs keeps rubbing each other. She's anxious. Well, why shouldn't she be?
Her hairs in a tangled mess. And the lights. The goddamn fluorescent lights are just so horrible. She looks even paler than she is. The dark rims around her eyes are much more visible. And her lips, her lips look more dry and chapped then they should be. She licks them, then she turns her head towards the sound of the fast approaching footsteps towards her.
She looks up, and she just have to give a small anxious smile when she sees who the footsteps belongs to.
"Hey," the man says as he sits besides her, offering her with the same smile. She looks at him for a while then she looks at the floor, but quickly returns her eyes back to him.
"Hey," she replies after a short pause. She says it quietly like she didn't have the strength to say it. Like she has to force it out of her.
And the guy. He can't help it, he just has to look at her eyes. Her sad weary eyes. He scans her whole face. And he notice how even more tired she looks. He returns his eyes back to her, and he notice how even more worried it became in the past three seconds he scanned her. Her eyes saying something else besides the worry.
Please distract me. It's pleading; it couldn't have been more obvious. But she's still wishing and hoping it gets to him.
"How about we go get some coffee?" he asks, picking up on her plea. They stand up, and he lightly puts his arm around her her shoulders.
"He's going to be fine," he says. And she had to smile. A strained one. She's clinging to such little hope. Could you blame her?
It's almost been three and a half hours. Every tick of the clock is a drag. And every minute that pass by takes away what ever little hope she has.
"I hope so," she murmurs, almost to her self while stepping inside the elevator.
They reach the hospital's canteen, and slowly they walk over to the instant coffee machine. He puts a couple of coins into the machine and press the button and the coffee pours down onto the little disposable cup. He give it to the girl and she takes and wraps her around the warm cup. But she doesn't drink it, she waits for the guy to get his drink too. When he gets it he takes a sip and playfully say, "Well, this is garbage." Then he takes another look at her.
She takes a sip at her own cup with a small smile on her face. But you can't miss that it doesn't reach her eyes. He's trying to lighten the mood. She knows this. But she can't help to get worried. She wanted a distraction and he's giving her distraction, but it's just not working.
"What's the matter?" the guy asks. Making her look at him. But she quickly realizes this is a mistake, so she looks at something else, anything but him. Because looking at him for two seconds too long will make her cry. And crying would be the last thing she wants to do right now. She's tired from it.
"You don't so good," he commented as his eyes scanned her with peaked curiosity. He puts his hand on her shoulder reassuringly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes probing her face for any reaction. She simply looks down, because she's afraid that if she looks at him she might cry, and she's already at the verge of tears.
"I-I'm okay..." she stuttered.
This is a lie. He knows this is a lie. Everybody knows this is a lie. Even the guy who's sitting at a table in the corner drinking his own bland coffee knows she's lying. She knows she's lying too. But she wants to convince herself that she's okay. Maybe because she'll believe it in a moment that she is okay. But she's not. She's anything but okay right now. All she is right now is a pale, hungry, tired pile of worry.
She's worried, worried of what might happen next.
"Maybe we should go back," he said, dropping the question. The girl nods and they walk towards the elevator with their cheap, bland coffee in their hands.
Walking back inside the waiting room she spots the nurse waiting with a clip board on her lap, staring blankly at the space. She's been waiting for them for quite a while.
Three other people were scattered around the room for god knows what reasons. She didn't have the energy anymore, let alone the interest to ask them what they're here for. She already has enough to worry about.
She builds up what little courage she has left and walks towards the nurse. Giving her coffee to the guy.
Coming closer to the nurse, she notices her face. All sad and torn. Oh, no, she taught.
"Hi," she said, hoping something good will come out of the nurse's mouth. But something tells her nothing will. "How is he?" she asked hoping for something good.
And all it takes is one look. One desperate look at the nurse's eyes to know the answer. One horrible look and everything is said.
Her knees buckle an she crashes down the floor. Like the entire weight of the world has been out on her shoulders and she couldn't carry it. Might as well be, because it feels like it though. She cries. She wails and she sobs. It's all she can do.
"I'm sorry," is all the nurse can say. She crouches down next to her, touching her shoulders consolingly in the process. But little to nothing could console her now.
He come in next, coffee in both hands. He tries to make sense of the scene in front of him; she was on the floor crying and the nurse was beside her, whispering something in her ear. He heads on towards them, wondering what on earth is happening.
"What's going on here?" he asks, trying his best to discern the situation.
"It's over! He's gone! H-his gone..." she said as tears continue to pour out of her eyes and slide down her cheeks.
He stood there for a moment, both coffee dropping to the floor as those world-shattering words started to make sense to him. He knelt down to her level and embraced her, stroking her back gently in an effort to console her. "It's alright..." he said as his resolve started to waver. "It's gonna be alright..."
But it won't. Not by a long shot, at least. There's the funeral. There's the bills. There's the family and friends attending the service. The tears. The nightmares. There's memory of her brother's death, its shadow never leaving her too far. And there's the grief. You can't forget the grieving; it comes with the package. Both the quiet kind of grieving, where you just stare at an empty space; and the wailing kind, where all you want to do is smash everything you see.
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THE END.
I may add a second part for this story. Just to make some things clear. Like, how her brother died and who was the guy with to her. And other stuff. But depends if I got an idea and I'm not feeling to lazy.
Anyway, please do comment and vote and fan or whichever you feel like doing. And please do share if you have the time or if you'd like too. It would be very much appreciated.
You can also give constructive criticism! It's okay with me and i encourage it. And if you think I made any grammatical error or misspelled something (which I'm pretty sure I did), please help me out and tell me about it.
Also, thank you for taking the time to read my short story/s, I really appreciate it. :))
with deep appreciation,
fostered dreams ❤
