She Came In Through The Bathroom Window

Lack of Clarity

“Michelle?”

A sharp pain ran through my skull causing me to groan in agony.

“Someone get her ice.” I heard a stern voice give the instructions.

Who needed ice? What happened? Where was I? The last thing I could remember was bumping into that bubbly woman and then . . . oh no. I had blacked out. At my best friend’s wedding reception. 

I attempted to open my eyes but the pain increased when light entered them.

“She’s waking up!” A voice called out causing me to cringe.

I blinked a few times, attempting to adjust to the light in the room.

“Michelle?” A soft voice spoke my name.

My blurry vision focused on the angelic face in front of me.

Paul.

I smiled at him before wincing again from my headache.

“Shh, love,” Paul soothed as he gently brushed away the hair on my forehead. I layed back on the couch obeying him.

“Here’s the ice and a cool cloth,” a familiar voice said. “Michelle? Can you hear me?”

I opened my eyes again and I saw George standing behind Paul. He was holding an ice pack and a face cloth while staring at me in concern. Yet, I didn’t want George caring for me at that moment; I wanted Paul to continue watching over me. But he stood up to let George take over and all I could do was watch helplessly as the man I truly loved left my side.

My boyfriend knelt beside me so he could place the damp cloth on my forehead. The cold felt refreshing against my clammy skin and brought me a moment of relief. Pain was still prevalent toward the back of my head however. George could sense this a motioned for me to sit up a little so he could place the ice pack against my head.

“Are you alright Dove? I was so scared you weren’t going to wake up.” His voice slightly trembled as he revealed his anxiety to me.

“Oh, George.” I flipped my hand over to show him I wanted to hold his. He saw this and immediately took it.

“Where is she?! Where is Michelle?!” A scream rang through out the house accompanied by the sound of feet running across the hardwood floor. I flinched at the sudden noise before I saw Suzie enter the room in a frenzy. Her hair was falling out of its intricate up-do while her brown eyes were wide with worry. She rushed over to me, knocking poor George over.

“Michelle? What happened?” My best friend asked.

“I-I don’t know,” I told her closing my eyes and shaking my head.

“She passed out,” Paul explained.

“Passed out?” Suzie repeated.

“Yeah, Joyce said she was talking to Michelle and then she just . . .”

“Where were you George when this happened?”

“Me? I-I don’t know,” George answered timidly.

“You should’ve been with her! Instead you were getting high!”

“I was looking all over for her, Suzie!”

All the arguing was making my headache worse. I tried to speak up, but it hurt to even move.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please . . . stop yelling.”

Paul noticed my pleas and told the ones bickering to either leave or stop. After they stopped, Suzie returned to my side.

“Michelle, I think you should see a doctor.”

“Why?” I groaned.

“Because you hit your head. You could have severe damage.”

Before I could agree, she turned to George and ordered him to make sure I see a doctor. This only added to my feeling helpless and feeble.

 

. . .

A week later, I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office. I always hated going to the doctor. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the way they poked and prodded you, asked you so many questions or just the smell, but I hated it all the same.

I sat in the stiff chair fidgeting with my shirt and picking at my nails waiting for my name to be called. Memories of my last visit here were flashing through my head. It had only been four days ago that I had been here, but that’s what made me worry. They had taken so many tests to find the reason for my fainting and vomiting that I had lost count. Now if they had found something couldn’t they simply call me at home and tell me? But if it was something bad they would want to tell me in person. . .

“Michelle?” the nurse called my name.

I stood up and followed her not to an exam room, but to my doctor’s actual office. He welcomed me in and invited me to sit down.

“I can tell you’re anxious Michelle,” he said handing me a paper cup full of water.

“Is something wrong with me?” I asked taking the cup.

“Oh, no! Nothing is wrong with you!” he reassured me. "You’re perfectly healthy.”

I sighed unaware I had been holding my breath. “So you didn’t find anything?” I asked.

“Not exactly. We did find one small thing.”

“Oh.” Fear crept back into my stomach making me feel paralyzed. “What is it?”

"Well, from now on, you'll have to continue taking care of yourself because. . ."