Rebel Behavior (slow updates)

12. The Darkness Without Stars

:)

"You sound suicidal."

"Jesus Christ!" I was losing it, "the only thing making me suicidal at the moment is the lack of common sense in you. People have different ways of expressing anger, stupid."

Honestly, this was the worst doctor I had had in ages. Why would I want to kill myself?

It would not solve anything.

I mean yeah, my life is shitty at the moment, but on the bright side, in darkness, there are stars. In every rain, there's a rainbow. I've just got to find it. This is life. The worse things in life come free to us, and the good things are hard to get.

Killing myself wouldn't get me to my rainbow; it would get me to my darkness without stars.

Not once had suicide popped into my mind.

However, murder had.

I really wanted to be a surgeon at the moment, and probably dig into this thick skull's brain. For a doctor, he didn't have much acumen.

"So you decided to bump your head several times upon a tree."

I scoffed, "screw you."

"I have to ask, Miss Marselton" he began gallivanting once more. That was his 'thing'. Hopefully, it helped him to think reasonably, "you seem physically active so, that's out of the question. Do you smoke?"

"What sort of question is that?" I rolled my eyes.

"We've already carried tests, Jordan. So don't think about lying." He was too strict for my liking. I decided, I wasn't going to answer. "Okay. Are you an alcoholic then?"

No answer.

"Do you take Vitamin D and Potassium contained food? Are you stressed?"

"Why are you interrogating me?" I suddenly felt insecure.

"Because, Jordan, you have hypertension."

That was it. "What? I'm... I'm just seventeen. I just turned seventeen!"

"Normally," he explained, "the intake of tobacco would temporarily raise your blood pressure, but the chemicals in the tobacco has damaged the lining of your artery walls and has caused your arteries to narrow, thereby, increasing your blood pressure. Now for alcohol, having more than one drink a day for women may affect you-"

"I don't drink alcohol so much." My voice was croaked. Hell, my whole life was shattering.

"There was alcohol in your system."

"I went to a party, brainless. You don't think we sipped from a juice box do you?" no matter how strong I tried to sound, I was crumpling and... dying?

He nodded and carried unto stress, "Jordan, if you're facing problems, you have to tell someone. If you try to relieve yourself by taking tobacco, or drinking... even eating more, you're just worsening the case. That's what stress does."

"I'm not stressed." I lied.

"You're starting to have those lines on your forehead, and here," he pointed to his folder, containing my records, "it states that you've been visited the hospital for chest pain, frequent colds, aches, pains, tense muscles... all symptoms of stress."

I shrugged, "so when's my death date."

"This is not a joke!"

"Of course it's not a joke! It's my life coming to an end." I had already begun crying.

"Lots of people survive this. There's no need to panic. Just calm down."

"Calming down wouldn't solve anything." Well, this was frustrating.