While I'm calmly sitting down, I feel the emptiness in my stomach. It makes the pain in my chest even worse. My prying eyes wander to my hands, I'm nervously fumbling with my fingers. My skin is soft, but the nails are cracking in some places. I swallow when I notice the needle one more time. What have they injected so far?
As I stretch out my fingers, the toilet paper is in range, tearing some apart. I do my duties, not prepared for what to expect. Fortunately, I have no further pain in this area, except that I had hold back my needs much too long. Don't they take care of that?
Carefully, I put myself on my weak legs and hold on tight to the handle on the wall, searching for some support. Now I know why I have been feeling naked. Except for the dotted hospital gown, I'm wearing nothing. This in itself is not as bad, wouldn't it be back and buttocks-free from behind. The cold air gives me a few goose bumps down my spine and makes my hair stand up on my delecate arms. I push the button before the scavenging occurs.
Slowly, I walk in front of the mirror, but don't look at the reflection, only washing my cold fingers under the warm water. I grab the soap and rub it all over my hands -- some bubbles arise. It smells heavenly like the ozean; One of my favorite scents. I've always set out to be at the coast of Australia one day and just simply look out over the blue ocean, watching the seagulls and maybe even go swimming in the water.
Lost in my thoughts, I can't suppress a look in the mirror and am fast back in my reality. I'm not at the coast, I'm in a hospital and have no idea why. My sight shocks me. Red rings under my eyes cast a shadow to my skin, the bluish shimmer can be discovered in some bits. The white in my eyes is almost as bloodshot as Harry's. The only difference is that my pupils are smaller than ever before. I frown, following my long black hair that twirls at the ends, falling like a curtain above the point of my body that hurts the most. It's not the first time that I feel pain or pressure in my chest, but it is the first time that it's so strong that it triggers difficulties in the simplest things. I bite my lip, which is bruised and dry. Except my pallor and everything that I have mentioned before, I can't find anything extraordinary.
"Victoria," I hear Clara's voice calling for me, as she knocks on the door hesitantly.
"Yes, I'm almost done," I assure her, quickly drying my hands and opening the door.
Clara is waiting impatiently.
"There you are. I'll give you the medication in a few," she informs me, but I remain rooted to the spot in the doorway. "What's the matter?"
"I, uhm..." Shyly, I try to press the thin shreds of fabric tightly around my body. "...this is something unpleasant. "
"Oh, honey, you don't have to be embarrassed about that. I am a woman and the guy is sleeping soundly and wouldn't catch a glimpse at your bum."
It seems to me as if Clara had been through this with many patients before. Her smile is warm and calms me a little, but can't stop me from blushing. She grabs my arm and helps me walking -- this time back to where I woke up a few minutes ago. Again and again I look over to the sleeping curly head, to make sure that he wouldn't take his chance.
"As I said, Victoria, he is asleep, he has to be sober before I would allow him to wake up." She says to me and squeezes my arm slightly, causing me to calm down once more.
Her gesture really works like wonders. I am focusing on reaching my bed as quickly as possible.
Just before Clara let me go to prepare the blanket, she makes sure that I can stand on my own and certainly not tip over. I rely on the end of my bed and remember Harry's sign, which is attached at the end of his bed. The reason for his visit is on there, so theoretically my exact reason for the stay will be attached to my bed, too. Even though I'm way too frightened of what might would await me, my eyes wander reluctantly to the small sign.
Victoria Rees
December 1st 1995
- Lymphangioleiomyomatosis -
Wait, what?
I hear a faint chuckling behind me and turn around abruptly, as I pulled out of my thoughts. The piercing green eyes staring at me from head to foot, as I gasp in horror.
Clara reacts immediately, pulling the curtain between the two beds and blocking the view of the stalker. I think I've never felt so much heat in my cheeks before. I recognize Clara having slightly pink cheeks, too. She's probably a little embarrassed as well, especially since she had assured me that the guy was a hundred percent asleep. We listen to his throaty gasp before it is quiet again. How much did he force himself to drink last night?
To sleep it off in the hospital, it must have been a lot. A shiver runs down my spine as I think about how he could look at my bare butt and I know -- if he won't forget anything -- he will probably always mock me about it.
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise." Clara makes a small gesture to the bed and encourages me to sit down.
After I finally lay down safely in the now cold bed, she helps me to cover my body and fixes the oxygen hose around my face again.
"I'll be right back with the medicine." She gives me another smile, which I return weakly, before she leaves me alone.
With every breath my chest constricted together it seems as if it would never loosen up again. The air burns in my throat. Every breath; a pure torture. I don't know what this disease means. I can't even remember the name of it, it is way too complicated to remember right away. I suspect that it has something to do with my chest, but I'm not so sure. Maybe it's just the medicine that causes the pain inside me. Maybe I am not even that sick.
Clara comes back already into the room. She quietly closes the door, as not to wake the other patient.
"I would suggest you to get some sleep. I know that you just woke up, but you had a serious surgery and you will need your rest. " She sounds serious, as if she wouldn't tolerate an argument.
I nod sleepily and I don't even get the chance to ask her why I have had a serious surgery. I only realize how my eyelids are getting heavier and heavier with every second I try to keep them open, before I'm surrounded with pure black.
But a spark of memory crosses my mind, before it ignites into a flame and I'm looking for my brother, sobbing ...
Casper?
Question of the chapter: What happened to Casper?
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GASP
Fanfiction- You better breathe as long as you can - Would your life end soon, you would try to make the best out of what you have left to enjoy. But if you don't know anything about your ultimatum you'll need someone who will take the lead. And in her case t...
