"Are you the cure to my depression?"
A girl, usually sad, fragile and always scared about the outcomes of her life.
A boy, who seems very optimistic and positive but is broken from inside.
Somehow, they cross paths and something immediately clicks b...
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The moment I threw up the bitter vomit, my eyes shut closed and my heart throbbing erratically, I heard someone scream beside us.
"Yuck, is this a place to puke?"
I coughed a little as my mom rubbed my back and I squatted down at a distance, not being able to hold my eyes open which were prickling with tears. My throat felt salty with the faded taste of bile and soup.
"I hope you trip over someone's vomit someday!" I heard my mom say but I was in no condition to laugh at it.
"Hana? I'll get you some water." She said, worried.
I stopped her by pulling at her skirt, "I don't want water right now, take me to the hospital first. My stomach hurts so bad."
And I felt the fabric of her skirt slip from my grip as I dropped my head in my palms and waited for her to help me up. She didn't.
Where is she?
I slowly opened my eyes, blurry with tears as I squinted around me. She wasn't there.
"Mom?"
At a distance, I watched her running back to me through the doors of the hospital with two people behind her, who seemed like compounders. They carried a stretcher with them and my eyes widened.
"Hana, can you get up?"
"Why would you bring a stretcher? I could walk!"
"But I thought-"
As I was about to answer I felt a sharp stab of pain in my lower abdomen and I winced.
"See, you can't even get up... quick get on the stretcher." She helped me stand up as I placed myself over the bouncy surface of the stretcher, which slipped away on wheels as I pushed myself up, gritting my teeth in agony.
"Lay down, ma'am." One of the man said as I took a deep breath and placed my head on one side, stretching my legs straight. I looked up and saw the dark sky filled with stars, thick clouds still visible over.
"Quick, take her inside!" He commanded and the stretcher began to move. It was the first ever time I was laid on a stretcher. I felt scared to death because I sensed it to be something serious. My stomach began to twist in knots again, which felt as if someone was pushing me down with an invisible weight. I tried not to make a sound, my mom already horrified enough as she started walking at a faster pace beside us.
