The Wrong Kind Of Doctor

1

The last day of the 5 days in hell. Friday. And luckily, that Friday was a half day. Teachers had told us that the weekend was only going to last 3 days, meaning that we would get back in school on Tuesday.

So when my boyfriend, Wesley, walked me to my bus on that half-Friday, and he hugged me goodbye, I shouldn't have chickened out at committing my first kiss. But I did, and I only hugged him tightly, and responded to his 'I love you' with a simple 'I love you too'.

To this day I feel heavy guilt.

The bus ride was fast, surprisingly. It was a warm, sunny, breezy day outside, so all the windows were open on the bus. I enjoyed the ride, feeling the wind through my hair, not knowing that what was about to happen would change my life.

Once we arrived home, me and my amazing mother had our daily little chat about her day and my day, and I walked into our house. Or... camper. We were building a barn around the camper, which we would soon be living in. By time you're reading this, I guess it's already built.

I made my way into my room to drop my book bag off in my room. Looking up from where I dropped it, there was a hook. And on that hook, hung my mask. My plague doctor's mask. And on the same hook, hung my brown fedora with googles.

I smiled at them both, thinking about all the things I know about The Plague. I know about all three types of plague, all the three great plagues in Europe, cures for plague, medieval cures for plague (or believed to be cures), I know basically everything about it. I love that particular sickness. I know, it sounds dark and gothic, possibly psychotic, but no. I'm full on Christian, and I'm pretty sure I am not psycho.

Mom came in with her phone in hand, the call she picked up was on speaker phone. The call from my school was informing us that school would be out for two weeks. A sudden slight sadness overcame me, and I instantly missed my boyfriend. Though, I did remind myself that it would only be two weeks. So, for those two weeks, I waited patiently.

I wasn't very bored, I had my iPod, and one game on it. I had notebooks by the truckload, and books to read. So, I would be fine... as long as I had music.

One day, I decided to make cookies for my lovely family. My Dad, stepdad, was always at work. Gosh, I hate calling him my stepdad, but I promise, it'll be helpful later on. Dad was always at work, and usually only came home on weekends.

As I got the cookies out of the oven, I checked my iPod for the timer. When I opened it to the home screen, the music app was a dark grey, meaning it shut down and needed to be re-downloaded. We didn't have internet at my house. I panicked, resetting my phone to see if that would work. Nope.

One day, I asked my mom if she could use her hotspot.

"Sure," She said, whipping out her phone and letting me use her hotspot.