You're A Baby's Butt (StudxStud)

<Chapter 23>

<Munae's POV> <Three Weeks Later>
My eyes opened and I didn't feel as pained as I had before. Why did I have to make it? They might not have found me if I hadn't called my mother. I blinked slowly. I know that the pain will come, but I'm bracing against it. I know the pain I've caused but something else outweighs it all: I've been in pain all this time.

While Mom will probably take up her idea of family therapy now because my siblings now have a "suicidal sibling", and now they have to cope with that....what about what I've been coping with all along? It's not like I couldn't have asked for help...was I just too prideful to reach out for it and grasp it?

My therapist must not have been enough.

A person walked in the hospital room and I slowly closed my eyes. They hadn't been looking at me but a sudden movement might have brought attention to my face and they'd know I was awake know for sure. Not to mention, my eyes are sore as hell. I wonder if I was in a coma? I had to have been. Everything around me just seems so...fresh somehow. Like a reminder that I was supposed to die.

"Alright, this is how you're recovering so far..." the person droned on about my countless injuries. None of them were serious so I didn't pay attention. She must know I'm awake though, she was talking to me. I slowly opened my eyes again and she smiled down at me. I'm surprised she wasn't jumping for joy or calling for the doctor. Maybe that was seen as too much for someone who had been....gone....for so long.

"Your mother is in the waiting room...would you like for me to call her in?" she asked tentatively. My mind was still muddled and fragments of memory were still floating around. "Not...not right now. Can I just have some water." The nurse turned to leave and then I called out softly, "Do you guys have any books I can read?"

"I'll see if I can find some," she said politely, then closed the door behind herself.

I didn't waste any time, I couldn't keep avoiding this and I didn't want to try this in front of anyone else and find myself weak. I started sitting up, registering the aches in my body. At this point, I don't know if I'd rather my body ache or for me to feel nothing at all. I sat up all the way and moved the bed up with me, I moved slowly though, because I didn't want to confuse my body or for my head to start pounding when it already was.

I had to pee, but I suppose I would need someone to help walk me there. I didn't want to test out walking, what if I was recovering. I'm sure they didn't expect their patients to get up and start walking right away. And wasn't I on suicide watch?

I eyeballed the room for any sharp objects when I heard the door opening. I laid back down and pretended to be fiddling with the buttons on the bed. "Here you go. I found a book from my co-worker, if that's fine."

"Of course," I smiled gratefully.

"It's about Greeks and stuff like that, you seemed like you would like it. I'm sorry I didn't ask what genre you wanted to read before," she apologized. "No, it's fine. When's the next time you'll be in here?" She seemed hesitant to tell me. Maybe because she knew I was suicidal. But, I was a patient after all. "Every few times of a hour due to....your car accident," she told me. I nodded, "I was just asking because the next time you come in i wanted you to bring my mom. I'm kind of getting my mind together."

I'm surprised I could even speak, maybe I'm used to being under the influence. That's probably why I can handle myself so well. "And- If you hear yelling please get her out of here...I really don't want all of that after I just....woke up."

Before she left I stopped her again but the young nurse didn't even look bothered. "I- You could tell I was awake? Why were you talking to me?" For some reason it still baffled me that she could see through my acting skills. I had lived my whole life using them after all.

"Oh no, honey. The doctors here think that talking to unresponsive or responsive people helps keep them alive or stay responsive," she explained. Is that why people talk to the dead? Wishing they would come back? Or wishing for them to...be there with them and listen?

"Thanks," I said, attempting a smile.

She left out of the room and as I sipped my water I realized I had forgotten to tell her I needed to pee. She had been so nice and I had talked her ear off enough. I was tired of being an annoyance: I could wait. I finished most of my water and went back into sleep.

Some strong part of me wanted to stay alive after this sleep, another weak part of me wanted to die in it.