As I Fell ✓

Chapter 2

Athena

"The halo's fully off now, Ms. Calimeris. You're free to go. Take things slowly for the next few weeks, alright? Rest up." the doctor said as he took off the headpiece of the halo brace I wore for a staggering 6 months, mingling with the bolts and rods that were previously associated with me. I breathed in relief.

So long halo. So long Elliot.

I can't help but smile. It was freeing to be able to smile like this.

"Do you want to keep the brace as a memento?" the doctor chuckled. He put in two circular band-aids over the two holes on my forehead where 2 screws were drilled into my skull. I winced slightly as he did.

"No thanks. I'm good. Really. Thanks, doc." I said as I fixed my bangs and went out of the doctor's office to change into some clothes that are actually in my comfort zone. Wearing tank tops and zip-up jackets for 6 months sure was a hassle and a hell of a fashion disaster.

I made my way towards a nearby women's comfort room and got changed into my usual clothes. I already had my maroon Docs on and some denim overalls and bringing an additional pair of these would be kinda wasteful, don't you think?

I changed out of my thin stretchy top and replaced it with a shirt and green sweater. I haven't worn any decent shirts or sweaters in months and feeling the fabric on my skin felt amazing.

I kinda looked pretty good for someone who fell out of a building.

I finger-combed my boob-length dirty blond hair and tied it into a high ponytail with a regular hair tie to hide the fact that I hadn't had a proper shower in months. Imagine that.

I did some final touches, though. I messed up my bangs a bit, fixed my ponytail, put on some lipgloss, and I was done.

Staring into my reflection made me feel so good about myself and it got me all excited.

Everything had been really difficult for the past few months with the whole falling off a building thing, break up, surgery, and tons of bills, but I was okay. I was finally okay.

I loved seeing myself without the bulky brace I wore before. I looked like my old self.

Well, except now that I have two holes on my forehead. Thank god I cut myself some bangs a week ago. I always prepare in advance.

I headed out of the comfort room and was stopped by some sort of ad for an exhibit. I didn't know hospitals even held these. Maybe to shake things up?

I originally didn't want to go there since I was supposed to go straight home to my aunt and celebrate. But the ad really seemed interesting, and I think I could spare a few minutes staring at artworks before I head home.

I was intrigued. I enjoyed making art so much that for every week after I got hurt, I drew something. The doctors said it was nice to have an outlet or a hobby to do while I was recovering and some of them were so impressed, they even hung up my drawings in their offices like proud parents. I was like a kid to them, but in a good way.

I easily found the exhibit lurking in the shadows of the floor's main lobby and just went for it. I deserve a few minutes of peace after what I've been through, especially while my supposed boyfriend turned ex went MIA. He should've at least been there or apologized for ruining my last few moments of sophomore year but he didn't.

I know better now.

If I'm ever going to find love again, I want it to be with someone who actually cares for me. I don't want an asshole who does the bare minimum. I want better. All of us do.