Lips Like Coffee

cup: 29

NORMA

I sat on the bed with my legs crossed as I stared at the starch white walls. Three days had passed since my brother admitted me into the hospital. Nurses had come and gone continuously, all probing me and staring at me with these annoying wary looks in their eyes. They all approached me with caution, stopping three feet away from the bed before they deemed it safe for themselves. I had no reason to lash out at them, except them being annoying.

The way the prodded at my body to check if I'd hurt myself pissed me off. On the first day, they didn't let me feed myself: strapping my hands to the bed and having a nurse feed me. A safety precaution in case I tried to attack them or hurt myself with the silverware.

"Ms. Davidson, how are you feeling today," another nurse came into the room with a toothy grin.

"The same as I was thirty minutes ago, fine," I huffed, falling back onto the bed.

"Please refrain from throwing yourself, Miss, or we'll have to restrain you."

I sat up and he stepped back at my action. My eyelids lowered and I shook my head. Why did I have to be here still? These people were getting on my nerves with all their stupid questions and threats of restraint.

"I have just a few questions for you, are you okay to answer them?"

"I'm fine! What else do you people need from me?"

"Your hostility is alarming and I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

My nose flared as I stared the man down. If I didn't do what he asked I'd be there even longer than I wanted or needed to be. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths until I felt relaxed. When I opened my eyes again the nurse looked at me for a long moment before he shook his head.

"You seem very composed today. Now the first question, where will you be staying once you are released?"

"With my brother."

"The brother who admitted you?"

"No, our brother James."

"Do you feel this arrangement is safe?"

My eye twitched at the question. Why wouldn't I feel safe with my brother? The more questions he asked the more annoyed I got. Yesterday was like this as well, but that took much longer than this.

"Last question, Ms. Davidson. Is there some sort of special pen you own that comforts you?"

I tilted my head as I stretched the left side of my back. A special pen? What the hell does a pen have to do with anything?

"No, why would I have a pen for comfort?"

"The night you were admitted, you called out for a pen. Also during the night as you slept."

It dawned on me what was happening. They thought I wanted a writing utensil. Shifting on the bed so my legs swung over the side, I faced the nurse fully. He watched my movements as he took a step backward.

"Pen isn't an actual pen, he's a person," I stated, and this time he looked confused.

"A person, named Pen?" He sounded unsure of his words.

This guy was beyond irritating. "Yes. Are we done? Can I go home now?"

Closing the paper on his clipboard, the nurse puts his pen into his scrub pocket as he shakes his head. My eyes widen at this and I stand up. This makes him move toward the door.

"I'm sorry, but we'll be keeping you for another day or so. Your lunch will be coming soon."

He closed the door behind him, and I kicked the chair over as I grunted in frustration. I can't sit here any longer. The room was too small, I didn't have room to think with my thoughts filling every inch of the space. Why couldn't I just go home? Did they not see that I was fine? My fingers went to my hair as I paced the room, pushing the coils back repeatedly.