Teach me, love

Chapter 24

Tom's POV

I think it was the nights that were the hardest.

Probably the scariest along the day, and how I'd have to cringe at the endless wounds, just glaring down to it as if the burdens could disappear in a second. As these hands of mine were only occupied by either ice packs or rebandaging. Broken fingers to sigh at, and simply indicating that I've been beaten senseless. It's humiliating, but I can finally see why people hate hospitals. Maybe I deserved this. Maybe this was a punishment for being such a dick to everybody.

Because, as I recall and roll my eyes about to, I'm sure enough that my body being thrashed around senselessly and being gutted by punches and aims for my cheeks wasn't really a good thing. Pretty sure that that shit could really fuck you up. Especially if you're ganged up by four people. I dunno, just a hunch maybe? Who do I fucking look like, Bill Nye the fuckin science guy. God I hate you. Don't talk to me, fuck you.

But, here I am!
Look at me, and look at the bruises on my body and look at the big fucking cast on my fucking arm. Lookie here. The flush in my cheeks when they prepared my fractured elbow into the thickness, and how I've bit my tongue when they cleaned out the large gashes along my legs. They gave me condolences, and I could only reply with painful groans and crushing my teeth into the fabric of a towel they offered. With sweat to be oozed out my pores, and crossing along my blackheads, just whining. I'm beautiful and bare in this patient gown, just showing a dunce and idiot that got his ass kicked soooooo badly that he had to be winded up within a goddamn hospital. Soooo pretty of me that I'm so gorgeous and wonderful and absolute best of me when I have to look up to the tv with a black eye on my black eye. How quaint, and dainty.
God I look fucking hideous.
I just want to hide, dammit, this room is so white and empty. I just feel too exposed. I wanna forget, dude, dammit.

The headaches were probably the second worst thing that I've been putting up with. How the doctors adviced strongly against the idea of more Advil because of how much medications I was already on. Simply enough, I remember clicking my tongue and rolling my head back. Just peering up to my doctor, unamused and annoyed at how realistic he was to be and how unreasonable I was. Per usual, as always, whatever. And I had responded my carelessness to if I was to misuse myself on silly drugs for the sake of this stupid headache to be gone. 'We can't have you dying on us, now can we?' The doctor had smiled when he said that, a forced chuckle that breathlessly released from his lips. And he wasn't looking at me in the moment, but you could already guess. Because woe is me, and my predictability is so easy to read. Annoyed, annoyed, annoyed.

As these headaches were strong, and they burdened me when clutching the sweat of my forehead while I ate the shitty breakfast. When I say strong, God do I really mean it. Feels like somebody is trying to crack an egg at the back of my cranium. Knocking and knocking, feeling sticky sweat journeying down my collarbone, and I can feel smashing eggshells onto my forehead. My eyebrows have been buried down to my eyes ever since I was able to wake up in this fuckplace. And suppose I couldn't remember anything until after I got knocked out by Lance's group.
But that's a story I'll get to later, because I'm not done complaining about how I hate it here. Fuck you.

The migraines last throughout the whole day.
And some points, I just tend to sleep just so I wouldn't have to feel them. Of course, things don't always work, and I end up just hurting my neck and whining at the two of my broken fingers.
Hell, before I know it, the nurses scamper back into my room as the sun begins to walk down it's path, and they clean me up. Smiles that are kind, and faces that are focused on their task while asking the same ass questions they have asked prior days.