His Playboy Ways

The Breaking Point

Awesome cover to the right made by my beautiful friend Catey (riots_and_riots)

'Everything is going to be alright, I'm sure of it.' I chanted those comforting and positive words in my head all day.

'He'll say I'm as good as new, I'm alright.' I added as I looked at my watch seeing it was almost ten thirty meaning I had only a half hour until I could leave school for my doctor's appointment.

To say I was nervous and terrified would be an understatement because I was far more than that. I was petrified and maybe a little hysterical. Today was the day Dr Singh was going to give the 'final verdict' regarding my illness; he was going to tell me exactly what's been going on in my head and whether or not my medication has shown any improvement. I had gotten a call the previous afternoon to say my test results - which were conducted a week before - had arrived and Dr Singh wanted to see me in person to speak to me about them.

I was currently sitting in my literature class and we were supposed to be copying down notes that were essential for our upcoming final exams which were to start in under a weeks' time but I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to pay any attention.

I glanced at my watch again and saw it was already ten-forty-five and I couldn't believe my eyes, it had already been a whole fifteen minutes since I looked at my watch, which meant I had to leave in exactly fifteen minutes. I rubbed my clammy hands on my skirt and ran a shaky hand through my hair; I was getting more and more nervous as each second went by.

I took in a deep breath to calm down, I knew I needed to be at ease, I shouldn't be so worked up as it wasn't good for me and the last thing I wanted was to faint before making it to see the doctor. I had managed all this while alone so I could manage one more day besides I was sure Dr Singh was going to tell me that I had nothing to worry about and that all the clots have dissolved and I am as good as new again. But, I thought, if that was the case then why did I have a dull, almost aching feeling in the pit of my stomach? Why did I feel I was fooling myself into believing I was alright when lately I've felt anything but?

Oh God, that feeling was getting worse; I could feel myself at the brink of a nervous breakdown. Who was I kidding, I was not ready to face Dr Singh, to hear my test results; I was anything but ready.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mason hissed from the seat next to me.

Somehow hearing his voice after one week automatically had a calming effect on me or maybe he asking me a question diverted my thoughts away. I turned to make sure he was speaking to me and I saw he was looking directly at me with a frown, I couldn't make out if the frown was out of concern or annoyance. I thought it was the latter.

"What is it to you?" I asked narrowing my eyes at him.

Mason looked at me hardly then shook his head. "Nothing, forget I asked you anything."

Apart of me was glad he didn't ask anything farther because I didn't want to share anything with him, not when he could use that bit of information to have a good laugh at me. He did pick on my bulimia not too long ago so what stopped him from picking on my clots? But another part of me ached for him to ask more, to show that a part of him still cared for me, to show me that I wasn't so alone after all and he was still there.

I knew that was just a fantasy when Mason turned his head away and focused on what the teacher was saying in front. I looked at the side of Mason's head for a long moment and thought over all the times he offered his shoulder of comfort and reassurance to me, all of that seemed like a dream now, it was like none of it had really happened and now when I probably needed a friend like him the most, he ceased to exist.