To Eternity and Back

Chapter 7

"Your vitals are normal and your breathing has improved, but I'll check later in the evening to make sure you're still feeling okay," the doctor said as he put away his equipment back into his medical bag.

I didn't respond and continued to look out the window of the lounge, where the bustling city of Singapore is lively and beautiful even in the morning. The city's skyline being illuminated by the rising crimson sun takes my heavy breaths away and I wanted nothing more than to chase the sun until it was in my hands, so I could let it warm me and brighten me into something alluring like it is doing to the city.

The doctor's voice then snapped me back from my ingenuity to the present time. "If anything irregular happens before our meet up in the evening, please call me immediately."

"... I will," I quietly answered.

Yesterday, I slept through the entire day and night, waking up in the following morning to our family doctor, Akio, waiting for me in the lounge. Apparently, my mother was the one who called him from our home in Japan so he could monitor my breathing from the overdosage. I would believe it was because she cared for my well–being, but another, more realistic part of my mind says that it's because she wants me to stop being a bother. I can imagine that if my mother were here, she would say, "Stop acting like you're bedridden with cancer when you overdosed yourself like some drug addict, honestly how foolish could you be?"

I'm sure another reason would be because she doesn't want word going around the socialite world about my "predicament". It would bring her reputation down, on how she's not doing her job as a mother. "What happens in the family, stays in the family," is something my mother would also say.

Akio was already almost out the door before he turned and flashed me a warm smile. "I'll see you soon Akira."

That's the thing. I don't want to see him soon. Or tomorrow. Or any other day.

Other people go to the doctor simply because they're down with a cold or perhaps need medicine.

I go to the doctor for when there's something wrong with me. When there's something "odd" either in my mind or in my body. Like when he diagnosed me with severe anxiety in my childhood. Like when he said I developed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD, not long after my 10th birthday. Like when he told me I had to take breaks in–between sessions because my hands were either bleeding from my fingertips or sore from practicing too much. Every time I visit Akio, it's because something deteriorated inside of me, making me more shoddy than I already am. Every time I visit him, I learn more on how flawed I am.

He has no way to fix me and only continues to bury me further and further into madness.

I hate it.

I don't need reminders and if Akio has no way to make me whole again, then I have no reason to see him.

But I can't tell him that because he's just doing his job and looking out for me. Obviously, I can't tell my mother or father either because I doubt they would show an ounce of interest. There's no one to tell about these looming thoughts so the only thing I can do is keep them inside and go through it like I always have.

I checked my watch on my wrist and followed the ticking minute hand go pass 10' o clock in the morning. 7 more hours until evening, I think.

I contemplated if I should hole myself up in the suite and wait until evening arrives but my stomach feels empty and I realized that I haven't eaten breakfast. I usually eat breakfast at 7:30 AM, but because I overslept – again – I didn't get to eat at my normal time. Well, better late than never, right?

I took the elevator down to the grand lobby and started going through the internet on my phone for good restaurants around the hotel.

Oh, maybe I don't have to leave, I think as I stop scrolling and click a link. La Brasserie is in the Fullerton Pavilion and since it's a classic French bistro, it sounds like the perfect place to have breakfast. Plus, just alone from the pictures, the desserts look amazing.