The Last Note

Chapter 5: Troublemaker

"About what?" I say anxiously once again.

"Harry, we have found that you've lost a lot of blood, and you may not have known this, but you had to have a blood transfusion. You went into a coma for a day and now you just woke out of it, not too long ago. Nobody wanted to tell you because you seemed to have not remembered, but I just wanted to let you know that."

Blood transfusion... coma...

My eyes slowly drop and I slide deeper into the covers. I pull the covers up to my chin and close my eyes. I could have looked peaceful on the outside, but on the inside my mind felt like it stopped functioning properly. I didn't feel good at all.

"Harry?" The man asks.

"Leave me alone," I mutter and start to fall asleep again. My drowsiness starts to be reappear as my head starts to clear and my eyes feel weird.

"Harry!" The man yells as I close my eyes and fall back "asleep".

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I wake up and a team of doctors are standing above my bed staring at me.

"He's awake, finally!" The familiar doctor says. They all stare at me or something about me. Some check machines hooked up to me, some check things on my arms, some just stare.

"Where am I?" I ask groggily. At the hospital of course, but sometimes messing with people just makes me feel better.

"At the hospital Harry," the doctor who I recognize as well says. "You had a blood transfusion for blood loss when you opened up your stitches, you then went into a day, and now your coming off of a three day coma.

"How is that even possible?" I ask. I look at my arms which are in brand new casts, different color now. I remember what the deal was and I sigh at the recognition.

"The loss of blood caused you the coma, and since the new blood has to circulate, we think that is what caused the second coma."

"Why are they here?" I ask. They all kind of freak me out more than they should.

"They are my colleagues. They needed to see your diagnosis being one in one hundred thousand chance. "You could've died Harry."

They all stop what they are doing and awkwardly stare at you. "So what the fuck does that matter? I'd rather be dead than have to deal with this bull crap."

"Harry, you know your mother wouldn't like to hear that language from you," the doctor warningly says.

I close my eyes and let them do whatever they want. They cut off my casts, give me two new ones, and then finally leave me alone.

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"Your such a fucking loser," he yells in my face. "Ew look at his arm!"

"Dude your such a loser. Get a fucking life," the other boy says.

I sit there and watch them hover over me like vultures. They pick at my fragile bones and puncture my lungs. My breath hitches as the one boy gets closer to me. "Get the fuck away from me," I mutter under my breath.

"Did you hear that? He cursed at me! Oh your mummy would not be happy with that now would she?" He says not intimidated. He gets up in my face as I stand up and level with him. I square him a punch in the nose and make a run for it. The other boy chases me as the one I hit recuperates. "Bloody hell!" the boy curses as he holds his nose.

"You dimwit I'm gonna get you!" The other one yells close on my trail. I zig zag down various streets, and I then hit the park. I run around the lake, and lose him for a short period of time, which I take to catch my breath. He then sees me from the other side and then darts around the lake toward me. "Get the fuck over here!"

I run out of the park and toward the town. The busy streets are crowded and I quickly dodge people. My small and limp, yet agile body swerves around the people as they yell at me. I turn the corner and quickly run into a Starbucks café. Safe for this time.

__________________________

"Harry," my mom says as she shakes me. I am startled by these actions as awaken from my slumber.

"Mum!" I hear my brother yell in the hallway.

"In here!" She yells back and looks at me. "Now Harry, your brother is here to talk to you, I expect you to talk to him."

I stare blankly at the wall, not conversing with her at all. I haven't had a conversation with her since we got into a fight the other day about something.

"Harry!" My brother says cheerfully as he enters the room and hugs my mom. "Mum you can leave now," he whispers as he takes a seat.

Being older than me, he takes the lead role of siblings. Always the one who looks out for the others. "Now Harry, how have you been?" He asks like nothing is wrong. I feel under the sheets for the television remote and turn the volume slowly up.

As the volume raises and pull the remote over to the side where he sits next to me. I press the call nurse button as I start to blast the volume higher and higher. I then throw the remote on his lap as the nurse comes rushing in. I hold my ears in pain from the television as the nurse rushes to turn down the volume.

She then escorts my brother out of the room and turns off the lights so I can sleep.

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"You can't stay distant from everyone forever Harry," the man says as he sits down next to me.

"Says who?" I say. I'm finally

More comfortable with him, but I still don't know his name.

"Says everyone, says me, says your life. You need to turn in the right direction Harry. You won't get anywhere if you live in your own daydreams."

I stare at the ceiling as the nurse comes in to take my eating accommodations. As usual, I don't tell her anything. I just shrug my shoulders and make the man choose for me since he comes everyday around the same time. I will never eat it and they know it.

"Harry your going to have to start eating," he sighs as the nurse leaves the room with the placed order. The way the hospitals work is that you order your breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next day right after dinner. An odd, but effective source.

I look at the man, he sits comfortably in the chair next to my bed. "Who are you anyway?" I ask.

"I'm a counselor that works for the hospital and rehabilitation center, and I am staying with you till' you eat something."

"Oh so your one of the douches who ask me how I feel about everything? Great. Just what I need," I sigh as the nurse walks in with a tray of food.

"I'm not like those people, I work with teenagers from the ages of 14 to 18. And I am more like someone to talk to, not a counselor. Now eat up!"

I stare at him like he's crazy and push the tray off the table and smirk. He doesn't get up to pick it up, but he waits for a nurse to come in, replace the tray with a brand new one, and then to leave.

"Do you really think you can outsmart me?" He asks and leaves the room.