N i n e t y - s e v e n

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Twenty-two days later. . .

"You can't convince her, I can't do it as well, I'm sorry." I told Austin and then walked out of the room. During the past few days, he had been bothering me with talking to Taylor about reconsidering going to the hospital, I would convince her if I knew I got a chance of changing her mind, but I don't. I cannot convince Taylor. Especially not now, not with what just happened.

The events of this morning was still fresh enough for me to ignore. The memories made me nauseous.

I barely expected today to be the tenth of that count. It was just a normal day of January, one waking moment she's lively, smiling, outgoing and then the next, she's unconscious. I rubbed my temples and pinched the bridge of my nose to ease the headache I've had. I almost always do whenever Taylor faints, the worse she gets, the worse I feel.

I leaned against the metal barriers and looked downstairs, right below me is the living room where I can see Taylor's parents, the doctor and Taylor, all of them talking quietly but loud enough for me to eavesdrop. . .

"Mom, no." Taylor said firmly.

"But Taylor, you need to be taken to the hospi--"

She cut her mum off. "No way. Please, we've talked about this!" She whined out, frustrated. It's the way she sounded when she argued with me back then, about her staying in the hospital.

I wondered what it is with staying in hospitals that repulsed her too much when she, herself is working in one. Fear can't be a reason, it's something else I can't pinpoint because I didn't have her stubborn personality.

"Tell them what you told me." Taylor said, stubbornly, ordering the doctor. Her pale face was turning red whereas the doctor seemed to be stunned, caught up with the situation.

I should be there, with Taylor right now. I should be the one to convince her, hold her hand, reassure her that everything will be alright. . . and regrettably, I am not and I can't make myself move.

"Miss Swift--"

"You can't do it? Fine." Taylor snapped up.

The doctor sighed exasperated. It had been her mission to convince Taylor to go to the hospital as well but, same as everyone else, unsuccessful. She took her things and waved goodbye at the family. They thanked her and she disappeared out the door.

Taylor sat very still for a while, her face red with anger and frustration. Her stubbornness is easily peeking through her face, pouted lips and knitted eyebrows. Her parents started talking to her, trying to convince her and I watched her reaction. . . none.

"Taylor, this is for you." Her mum had said after a long period of silence between them.

Taylor looked up, "Please, no." Her eyes glassy and her voice breaking. "I can't do it, I'm sorry. I hoped you of all people would understand that."

"We do understand but,"

"Mom," she sighed, I know for a fact that her voice was starting to fail her. "I can't do what you're asking me to. We've talked about this, and I wanted to spend more time with you guys. I can't if I'm lying in a hospital bed. Please." Her voice faded and cracked from the first word yet I could hear her clearly.

"I'm sorry." She said at last and ran upstairs, all of them from downstairs following her with their eyes while I stood still motionless. She stopped in her tracks before she entered the room and looked back at me. She took my hand, and I thought I heard her whisper my name though I wasn't sure.

I closed the door gently behind us as she sat on the bed, staring at her toes and fidgeting with her fingers. I stayed quiet for a while, waiting for her to say something.

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