Not Some Princess ✓

31. Caught

31

Caught

I've been ignoring this big lump in my throat
I shouldn't be crying
Tears were for the weaker days
I'm stronger now, or so I say
But something's missing
Whatever it is
—What Now
Rihanna

AFTER A certain amount of scenarios, you just lose the ability to feel conscious or the feeling of shame. You know, that feeling when your cheeks go all red. Perspiration marks your forehead. All those actions flicker back in your mind. You just feel guilty about your actions. Sometimes you might even feel like crying.

What is that again?

But there might be that tingly ego right there that plays most of the similar games. The questions of 'how did this not go the way you planned to?' cross through the mind. The obvious question of why though, does not. The level of lunacy required though is still the same, if not more.

I found myself questioning the extent of my ego. When I stared at the doctor and my parents. Whether it was enough to withstand the tips of humiliation that was beginning to seep in. Dr Wist was gazing at me with an amused stare. She didn't seem annoyed at all that her patient tried to escape as if she was bound to a mental hospital.

She was pretty cool for a doctor. She understood when I didn't take the medicines. She had asked the nurse to mix them in a food substance instead. I didn't think it made the food taste any different. So we were good.

But even she couldn't allow me to have coffee or alcohol. The coffee thing was understandable to her but when I had asked for the second one she just laughed it off as if I was making a joke. I had no idea what was humorous about a person asking for a mere pint of whiskey. It was completely normal. But she just smiled and provided me with a simple shake of the head.

I wasn't. Joking.

"I can't believe you tried to break out of the hospital." Mom's eyes bore through me indignantly.

"Emelia, what is this behaviour?" Dad joined in, a questioning glint in his eyes.

Oh, and my parents weren't amused.

Having an inner crisis, I found myself at a loss of words. And in turn, there was no reply to the questions that were asked. I blinked and leaned back in a sense of defeat and loss of words. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Stefan was supposed to take me out and Joe was supposed the distract the doctor and my parents. But no, Joe decided to stand right in front of the door of my room to spark some conversation with the three of them, just so, the moment my mom turned away for a phone call she saw her daughter being rolled away right at the end of the corridor. So close. So close.

Bloody, Joe.

It's like the only thing I like about him right now is his name. Joe.

Which reminds me again that for some dehydrating reason, I can't even have sweet innocent coffee. Not. Even. A. Single. Damn. Drop.

What is with the world?

I looked up at the ceiling as the doctor conversed about putting me in another induced coma to fasten my healing. My parents to my surprise declined. I nodded too when the doctor glanced at me. My parents said it's better to not wreck my brain with any more drugs. Than it already is. I stared at them with an open mouth as they didn't even glance at me and left the room. But what pricked the most was when mom said on the way that I was old enough to actually ask to leave. And not run away.