Every time something is supposed to happen the next day I have a tendency of waking up in shock so that I am not late. It is like waking up after having a bad dream. This is because one of my biggest fears is to miss an alarm. I grab my phone in panic and it is only 6:31 a.m. I am only supposed to be getting up at 9a.m. My anxiety is just unnecessary sometimes and now I have insomnia. This is just great. Now I can't go back to sleep because I am wide awake. I lay in bed but the problem is that my brain starts racing and thinking about what could happen today. I know this is dangerous and could lead to me pulling out of the commitment I have made. To take my mind off things I get up and I start spring cleaning my room in the middle of winter.
By the way, I live close to the Southern hemisphere, more like near the equator so seasons are different, winter in July go figure. In winter it only gets cold enough to rain or have a hail storm. I am usually used to the warmer weather of Kingdom where it is always sunny all year round. Here in Anchor, the winters are filled with rain and it is much colder than Kingdom which is a bit challenging when it comes to cleaning because sweater weather makes you very lazy.
I even cleaned my roommate's side of the room, that is how I much I needed to distract myself. My roommate is still on holiday probably on a yacht to nowhere having cocktails and endless partying. Surprisingly she invited me on the holiday escapade which took me by surprise. I had to reject because of the res commitment but I am not too sure I would have gone even if I had nothing to do. I still don't consider us friends but at least she is making an effort.
Karen Love, a gross rich girl and also my roommate. She is a dark chocolate beauty, over 6 feet tall and able to rock a bald head. She comes from a long line of generational wealth and would never have to work a day in her life but education is valued by her parents. It makes sense that she came to Anchor University because it would be regarded as an Ivy League-worthy university here at Corpumiber. Being from a super gross rich family she was highly disappointed with the idea of sharing a room. She liked the sharing room size but not the roommate that came with it. There was a point that she tried to buy me out because she wanted the room to herself but she learned that even if she got rid of me she would get a new roommate. So she tolerates me and I tolerate her. I don't hate her anymore, I just dislike her now. I am glad to have accomplished this baby step. By her inviting me to her family yacht to spend a week partying in the sun on a private island should mean she must slightly like me. Or she could be planning my death or even worse trying to publically humiliate me for wearing a full costume instead of a bikini because of how self-conscious I would be.
I feel like I have made use of time and it should be much later now. It is only 7:02. I double check the time and it is still the same. I also check the room to see if I have missed anything. Microwave clean. Fridge clean. Basin clean. Floor clean. Bin emptied. Bed made. Study area neat. Clothes sorted. I haven't missed anything. It makes sense because I made sure to clean the room before I left so I could come back to a clean room. When I did come back I thought about how I should keep it as clean as possible but I was able to turn the room upside down in less than 24 hours. It is just my teeth and body left for me to clean up. I brushed my teeth twice, mouth washed and flossed. It is only 7:09. I give up on time and decide to take a shower.
One thing I can't stand other than people wasting electricity is water wastage. It should not take you more than 5-10 minutes to shower, and 15 minutes if you are really trying your luck. This also applies when shampooing and conditioning hair. Unless you are Rapunzel it shouldn't add more shower time. What are you washing that is taking so long? What I realised for the first time today is that it is not about washing yourself but it is about the way the water feels when it falls off your back especially when you have a lot on your mind. The feeling of hot steamy water brushing on your back is truly refreshing. It makes you want to stay in water forever, minus the pruning. I usually never stay in the current position for long but today it is different. I even immerse my head in the water. I am trying not to think about anything right now and trying to wash the thoughts away. The thing with not thinking is that all other hidden emotions just arise to the surface. Next thing I know is that I am crying. Not loud and obnoxious but the tears are just falling as the water also falls on their own. I don't truly understand why I am crying but it seems that I must have been holding back these tears for a long time.
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It is around noon when I go to the hospital. I do not like hospitals, they creep me out. The clinical smell is nauseating. The way it seems to be always gloomy everywhere you go. The hospital is a depressing place to be. A lot of sick people in one place drain most of the visitors' energy is what I imagine leads to the dark cloud of sadness. I have been to hospitals quite a few times to visit family and it never gets easier especially when death is involved because losing a loved one is unbearable. The thought of being admitted at a hospital overnight scares me. I try to avoid all contact with hospitals by staying far away from them. Even when doctors try to recommend that I stay overnight, I don't. I jump up and act fit as a fiddle just to go home.
There is a lot going on in my head. I keep trying to play out what is going to happen today in my mind. I am also wondering if I will be able to handle what lies ahead of me. Am I really ready to see him again? I go to the reception area to be greeted by an uninterested woman. What is the hospital doing to these women that they sulk all the time? Haven't people heard of leaving your problems at home? Even if you are having a bad day putting up a façade is part of working with people. Customer service is not what it used to be. The lady then asks for the surname of the person I would be visiting.
"Abrahams."
She then says that unfortunately only immediate family is allowed to see him. She thinks I am a reporter trying to get a picture of the 'boy in a 5-year long coma'. I understand her distrust in me because I have never been there before. I also look a bit shady because I am not wearing and looking my best. It is like I am on a mission or in a disguise. I am wearing an oversized navy hoodie with the hood on. I have on black tracksuit pants and trainers and I am carrying a backpack. For some reason, people always think you are up to no good when you have a backpack. I may have forgotten to mention that it started raining so my clothes are drenched and I look like hell.
I then start explaining a sob story about how this is the last time I will ever be seeing him and even shredded a tear. The woman is very sceptical about everything I am saying but she also shows no interest. My sob story must have worked even though the woman had no sympathy for me; I guess I irritated her so much she had to get me out of her sight. She probably thinks I am just a desperate girl. She made me write my information down and gave me directions to the room I was looking for, A-18.
"If you try anything, the eye in the sky will see you."
"Thank you so much Ms Jackson." Thank you to whoever created name badges.
"I am only letting you go because I need a bathroom break and I can't take another minute of your pathetic story."
The room was on the ground floor, which was the same floor I was already on. I just had to turn right when I approached the elevators. If only you could make the clock reverse and get back all the years that have gone. This corridor is rather too quiet for my liking. To make matters worse, as I am going deeper into the corridor it gets darker and gloomier. There is a passage light that seems to be flickering. The hospital should really get that fixed because I feel like I am in the middle of a horror movie. The room is the last one on the left. I went near the room to find the door closed. I breathe in and out.
"You can do this." This is the little boost of confidence I need to go through with what I am going to do.
I hesitate at the idea of grasping the door handle. I approach it tortoise speed with my hand nearing to reach the handle. I slightly touch it with my index finger like I am testing whether a stove is hot. Then all the other fingers follow like dominoes. The thumb seals the deal. Then I hold on to the handle. As I am about to turn the door handle to open, I am interrupted by sobbing. The crying is coming from inside the room. I put my ear against the door to try and listen to who it might be.
It is Mrs Abrahams, she is praying and asking for God to return her son to her and her family but at the same time, she is raging about God taking her son away from her. Bipolar much? I felt like I could not disturb the lady and her religious needs. She needed to be with her son more than I ever will. She has been there for and with him all these years. I haven't been there for him at all. I just thought it could be my last chance to try. I see that there is a window that allows you to look into the room but as I try to look in I notice that the blinds are being shut. She must have been distracted by her tears to see me. I highly doubt that Mrs Abrahams saw me because if she did she would have reacted. Maybe if there is an open casket funeral, I will be able to see his face again. So I made a whispered statement of my own before leaving,
"Lincoln, wherever you are right now, I want to let you know that I did love you and I still do now." I walked away trying to fight back the tears and never looked back.
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Not Seeing The Obvious (NSTO)
RomanceImagine this: Have you ever met someone who keeps staring at you? You always wondered what his problem is, only to find out that he has so much admiration for you. So he looks at you with his hypnotized eyes and he can't help himself be...
