Half of What I Could Be

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Smells, sounds, tastes always had a way to jog some buried down memory. I learned in Biology it had something to do with our hippocampus and amygdala. In this case, the persistent beeping of the hospital monitor always sent a spark of dread through me.

I knew I was in the hospital before I even opened my eyes. I was pretty sure it was the consistent beeping that guided me from the darkness. I was also pretty sure the sterile smell, and the feminine crying from my bedside played a role in that as well. I knew right away the crying belonged to my mom. I've heard it way too much over the years. This whole experience felt like the worst version of deja vu. I never thought I would be admitted again. Well, at least not in my teenage years. My doctor claimed I was in the clear, or in his words, "My body has finally settled into its own homeostasis, and if I continue to take my meds, my immune system would no longer be suppressed."

I had seen many specialists, doctors, and alternative medical practitioners over the years, and all of them were confused by my medical condition. Some said it was autoimmune, while others said I probably had some form of leukemia as my white blood cell count was something they never had seen. One day I would have a low count that would cause me to almost die from the common flu. The next day, my white blood cell count could accumulate to something not even a group of five healthy adults had. The only thing they all could agree on was that my body seemed to be at constant war with itself.

It was when I developed seizures that I inhabited the hospital the most. I always knew the hospital visits were harder for my mom than me, so I hated that I had to bring her here again. Anytime I laid in this bed, she could not eat and she could barely sleep. My dad would try his hardest to bring her home, to just even take a shower, but most of the time she wouldn't. It was as if she thought these were the last moments we would share together, and she was not going to lose a second. I appreciated the sentiment, but my nose did not appreciate the smell she masked over those long days.

As I slowly started to come too, I debated opening my eyes. If I opened them, reality would set in. Even though I was awake, the world thought I was asleep, and for some reason that was enough to keep all my anxiety driven thoughts and questions at bay.

I heard my mom stand up. Her chair scratched against the marble tiled floor in a high pitch screech that almost made me cringe, "I'm going to go talk to the nurse about new blood levels, I'll be right back," She said to someone in the room. I honestly thought it was just us two, so call me surprised when not just one, but three voices respond. I thought I had good hearing, so this was a big hit to my pride

"Okay," muttered two masculine voices and one feminine voice. Um, who was in my room?

I heard a few footsteps, a door gently open, and then gently close. My mom left the room, leaving me with not just one, but three people whose identity were currently unknown to me. I could have opened my eyes to look at them, but the comfort of faux sleeping was just too good.

"I'm surprised she's alive," said a jokingly deep male voice. Right away I knew it was Roan. I thought being poisoned was bad, but being stuck in a room with him might just be worse. Right when the thought of "poisoned" entered my head, I felt my anxiety peak. No, I just want a few more minutes of ignorant bliss before I have to think about that.

I heard a hand connect with someone's skin, "Ow, why did you do that?" Roan screamed at the perpetrator. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he just got slapped. A smile almost spread across my lips.

"Oh my god, don't be a baby!" bickered Taylor, "You didn't need to say 'I'm surprised she's alive'," she mimicked in a deep voice that was overly throaty, "How did you become that insensitive. Were you dropped on your head as a kid or something?"