All these secrets that you kept
All these lies I told.
I woke feeling sore and tired. I don't know what was happening to me. I was surrounded by two nurses and Dr. Joselyn.
"Christiana, Christiana, can you hear me?" came the voice of Dr. Joselyn. Her voice came deeper than it should've, and in a way that made me feel like I was underwater.
My head surely did feel lighter, maybe I was underwater.
I couldn't feel my body much either and my vision was also blurry.
I felt weightless.
Maybe yes, I was underwater.
I also felt like I was drunk which didn't make sense cause even though I was confused, I was certain I wasn't drunk.
"Christiana?" came Dr. Joselyn's voice. "Please give me a signal,"
I tried lifting my head and actually managed to move it a little. It took me a few seconds to gain back my vision, and my sense of hearing, and of course, my dizziness cleared too.
"How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine. What happened?"
"You had a seizure. You were talking to someone on the phone and suddenly, you started convulsing, according to Mr. Hart."
"Oh," was all I said. I wasn't surprised. From what the doctor had told me, encephalitis could've caused my seizure. I just hoped someone would've recorded me convulsing, so I could see it.
Yes, my definition of cool was a little twisted, but it was what it was.
It wasn't the first time I'd had a seizure. I had epilepsy as a child, so I was used to having seizures. But having a seizure after so long just brought up too many memories.
Having a neurological disorder as a child was not easy. I would convulse at random places. The reason I was looking forward so much to middle school was because of my epilepsy episodes in elementary school.
I was called the 'freak', 'weirdo', and 'witch'. Of course, I didn't expect seven-year-olds to understand epilepsy, but it was hard.
People often asked me how I was always so irresponsive, impulseless, and so in control of my actions. Thing was, that because of everything that had happened to me, I had started dying from the inside. And Covid-19 was the final nail in the coffin.
I usually never reacted when people called me things because I was just so used to it.
I sometimes missed being invisible.
But the best thing about people noticing you was that everyone heard you.
And Reece had made a big mistake by taking my tendency to not response as my inability to respond.
The seizure made me recall everything, everything I had done.
My mother was right, I could get attached and detached easily.
But I could never forgive and forget.
Not without an apology.
I was the queen of fakeness, I could easily pretend. I was the chameleon. And my true self was something even I didn't know.
I was like a mirror with a filter, who doesn't love a version of themselves?
Crimes.
Games.
YOU ARE READING
The Fourth Boy
Romance"A thanks to all my tears Who were always there in my darkest times when I was alone." This book is not about my pathetic pitied self. Perhaps that's all they'll ever see me as, perhaps they'll always assume that I was the victim. Perhaps this will...
