Conscious Sedation

Monday Morning Moments

Chapter 8: Monday Morning Moments

12:05

My digital clock glowed softly on my bedside table; emitting a rather bright green light against its pitch black background.

I stir; unable to sleep due to everything that happened today. Yesterday, technically.

I lifted my blanket and raised the bottom part of my shirt, wanting to see how well my little stitch was doing. The fresh bandages didn’t have pieces of scabs on them as I peeled them off of my skin. My wound was dry and almost perfectly back to normal. All that except for the huge scar where I run my fingers into.

My mouth was dry and I felt the need for a glass of water. Licking my lips, I was lost in the dilemma of continuing my undying battle for sleep or having hydration. I went for the latter as I threw my heavy blanket on the other side of the bed and planted my feet on the soft carpet.

Carefully, I opened my bedroom door not wanting Henry to wake up. But then it seems like my assumption that he’s already fast asleep was wrong. There he was, standing against the window sill, silently looking outside the beautiful city streets.

“I thought you were asleep.” I said, tightening my robe. He turned to look at me with a smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned about what it might be.

“I’m fine Carmen. Why are you still up?” He asked.

“I’m just thirsty.” I said as I grabbed a glass and opened the fridge to look for a pitcher. “What about you? Aren’t you sleepy yet?” I asked, filling in the glass with cold water.

“Nah I’m good, maybe later.” He said. Smiling a smile that again, did not reach his baby blues.

I gulped in the cold water and left the glass in the counter not taking my eyes off of him. “Is there something wrong? Henry, you know you can tell me about it.” I asked, feeling an odd concern about this boy that I used to hate so much until this evening.

“I’m just worried.” He said as he sat on the sofa bed. Sitting beside him and waiting for him to continue was nerve racking; like I was solving a crossword puzzle with no questions and just letter clues.

“About what?” I asked, placing my hand on top of his knee, letting him know that I’m not here to judge but to listen and help if I can.

“Nothing, I’m just worried if I’m being such a huge burden to you.” He said but something tells me that it’s not it. He sounded like he was just reasoning out of something much bigger than simply being a burden which isn’t even true.

“Are you being serious? You know that’s not true. You know what, If you really feel that way then let’s make a deal. I won’t get a lock picker for your apartment.” I said as his face lit up in curiosity.

“Wha…”

“Yes, you will stay here until your cousin comes home from Ireland.”

“No, Carmen, that’s too much.”

“I’m not done yet. In return you will have to go with me to my psychiatrist tomorrow. We’ll go to the florist to get flowers for Madame Moreaux and to the university so I could personally present my medical certificate to my professor so he could excuse me from an exam in psychology which I know I would probably fail not because I’m being lazy to study for it but because I have a feeling that I have been psychologically challenged these past few days and probably the days to come until the day I die.” I said and caught my breath.