Vanity Teens

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Surprise bitches, I'm dead.

Well, close enough, at least.

I didn't have a clue who managed to save my mangled body on that beach, but somehow I was still hanging on, even if it was only by a meagre thread that was slowly splitting. I couldn't tell you how much time I had left, no one knew what was around the corner for them, but I could make a guess at how my story would end.

They all came rushing, when it hit national news. Not just my mother and my friends, but the entire family had flooded into the tiny hospital of St. Michael's by the seafront of Cornwall.

I never believed that I would survive that day. But I was a survivor, I had been since my diagnosis, constantly fighting the bleeds and the bruises and the stiffness, the aches and pains that followed me like my sickly shadow. All of it never went away, I had to just find different ways to deal with the pain, and be more creative with hiding my problems from the world. I became fairly good at the latter, but I was admittedly never good with dealing with pain. The pain was hard, and constant, and the only way I could have dealt with it was to think of it like it wasn't there. And that never helped me.

As you can imagine, I was flown back to London, and then off to some hospital in Switzerland for experimental healthcare, although the doctors warned that I shouldn't be moved in such a critical condition. But that didn't matter, I had heard my mother demanding what was best for me, and it helped.

I could hear more voices soon, and eventually, I could see the room I was in. It was low and bright white, with pristine doors and floors that glimmered my reflection. When I turned, I saw something I had not expected to see: myself. Sprang out on a hospital bed, my body washed and scrubbed, I was basically a plug socket. Every orifice was plugged with a tube or wire that trailed behind me and pumped and plucked things in and out of my lifeless body

It hit me like a slap to the face. I was in a medically induced coma.

Slowly, I hindered, but stood by the side of my body. My hand squirmed and shook as I reached out to grasp myself, but I felt nothing. My hand vanished in the solidity of my body. Somehow, I was actually seeing this, and although I didn't know how it was happening, I was grateful.

My skin was pale and pallid, I looked like a corpse. I seemed so small in that moment, because I was only one person, and it wouldn't matter if I died.

The world would carry on around me, without me, while I was trapped in the lonely hollows of whatever kind of Purgatory state I was in. Honestly, I didn't know what this was, but I wasn't religious at all so I didn't believe in Purgatory, and it wasn't like I would be sent their anyway. I'd be in the deepest pit of Hell. I was beckoning Death to take me, I would roll into his arms and accept my fate.

But I was a survivor, and I was planning on putting up one hell of a fight. I wouldn't go peacefully, I would squirm and struggle. As the biggest bitch on television once said, "Katherine Pierce wasn't about to go gentle." (Vampire Diaries reference, yes)x And let's face it, I'm basically Katherine Pierce in real life, so this applies directly to me.

I heard the low and light rustling of the door handle, and a faint groan as the door refused to swing inward. I could tell from the groan who it was almost instantly, I knew my mother all too well.

"Nurse, this door won't open! Nurse, get this damn wretched door to open!" she screamed. "Don't just walk away from me, do you know who I am? Open this door, why is it locked in the first place?! Get it open now! My son is in this room and someone needs this door to open right now! I swear to god I will sue you will, I will have your medical licenses revoked! This hospital will be nothing! Get this door open now!"