Beep. Beep. Beep.
My eyes slowly creep open and all I see is white. Where was I? Surely, I'm not dead; I wouldn't be in heaven, I'd be down in the ground. I'm destined for hell.
I prop myself up feebly with my elbows and notice white gauze wrapped around my left forearm. This scene was all too familiar...
TWILIGHT! I've seen this in Twilight. That's actually really creepy. I feel a deja-vu and it's related to a vampire movie.
I look down at my right hand and also realize a needle in my hand connected to a tube, injecting what seems to be blood or something. I'm dressed in an awful hospital gown and my hair is draped all over my body. I have a strong feeling I look like a zombie. Actually, I am a zombie. My eyes feel heavy and puffy and my arm feels life it's been chopped off then reattached. Memories of last night collide in my brain as I try to recall the hateful night, but it's giving me a headache so I give up.
I look a little more around a room and spot a paper with little scribbled letters on it, resting on the hospital night table. I reach for it gently, to not open the wound and read the note.
Jackie,
I stepped out for a little while, to get changed into clean clothes and I wasn't so sure when you'd awake. I won't be long at all and I'll be back before you know it. Just close your eyes and rest; you need it.
Aaron.
I think this boy is the sweetest guy I've ever met. I've never gotten a note like this before. When people would leave me, I would never get a heads up and it simply warms my heart to have him do so. I like knowing he'll be back. It's a reassuring feeling to know that, if someone leaves, they'll return to you.
I sink back into the bed that did not belong to me and started humming a song out of boredom. Soon, the humming started becoming more of me singing. The lyrics to Wonderwall by Oasis slip off my tongue , distracting me to the point of not hearing footsteps entering the room.
"You sound lovely," the lady in scrubs tells me. "I'm going to just do a few check ups and give you a bit of medication and I'll be off."
I sit up and face her. "What medication?"
She sighs and gives me a saddened look. "You have Anemia, sweetie. I have to give you some medication for that."
I already knew I had Anemia. My grand-mother did, my mother did and I do. The difference though is that my mother's case was so severe, it lead to heart failure. She died of a heart attack and my father was so afraid it would happen to me too. He feared the day the doctor declared I had anemia.
It wasn't a big deal for me. I mean, my mom had a very severe case, but when she passed, I was force to do tests in order to see if I was touched by the same disease. I came out with the results that I had it, but it wasn't serious. It wasn't as severe as my mother's case.
I shudder at the thought of her killer.
"Jacklyn, we have bad news..." The small lady announces. How bad can it be? I've been through hell and back I doubt this should affect me.
I stare at her and she sighs very dramatically, looking at the clipboard she hold up to her face. "You have been diagnosed with anemia a few years ago, correct?"
I nod. Where was she going with this?
"Considering you fainted at the immense loss of blood from your system, we had to take a few tests." She looks directly at me with apologetic eyes. I'm guessing they can't do tests on an unconscious patient. That is pretty wrong, but I don't mind that much. "The results came in just a few hours ago..."
Please don't tell me where she's going with this...
My eyes start filling with water as she finally announces my condition. "You have a very severe case, dear. We checked your background as well and notice your mother had a very similar type of anemia."
Great. Just fucking great. This is just more to add on the plate called "My Shitty Life".
I look up, closing my eyes. A few tears escape me, but I'm too exhausted to stop myself from crying. I couldn't believe that I have already been through hell, but the dragging trail is still not over. Just yesterday I was attacked and that was clear in my brain. And today, I'm all of the sudden diagnosed with the same kind of sickness that killed my mom.
Before apologizing for the millionth time, the nurse leaves my a little paper cup with medicine, a pitcher of water and a plastic cup. I refuse to take the pills and surely, I refuse to believe what's happening to me.
She did say my case was treatable, but I needed to come do check ups very often. The medicine was expensive enough and I hated spending money on Health care.
I feebly lift myself from my mattress, dragging along with me the metal post holding the bad of red liquid that's filling me with the blood I need. Shuffling slowly to the bathroom, my bottom half kind of exposed through the robe, I realize how badly I needed to pee.
Closing the door behind me, I release my bladder. I look down and the marks on my legs bring back the nightmare of a sadistic torture. Then, the scar on my knee shows the part of my life that I lead dangerously.
The nights I have spent on the streets, giving highs to strangers desperate for drugs. The guilt of my previous actions that sometimes took lives of the helpless people makes the bile rise in me and I rush to wipe myself, only to kneel in front of the porcelain bowl and puke.
I sit there, on the floor, for a while, calming myself, trying not to cry. I did it for the money, but it became blood money; thousands of dollars I no longer wanted to keep.
My knees automatically coil to my body and I lie on the cold hard ground, too emotionally spent to shed a tear.
I'm not so sure if I have been laying here for thirty minutes or two hours, but an urgent knock sounds at the door. I can't bring myself to get up. I want to just lay here, alone, forever. It's like reality and my past combines hitting my gut with a huge pang.
The handle shakes and I use the little ounce of strength I have and pull myself up with the help of the metal pole. Even though I haven't been crying, I still check myself in the mirror. After washing my mouth clean of the vomit, I look up and see a complete stranger in front of me.
I have never been so pale in my life. Normally, I had tanned, golden-brown skin that never faded, even in the winter. Now, my skin was completely drained. I look like a ghost. Dark circles gave my eyes a more harshly weak state and my lips were pale and chapped as well. I couldn't believe the sight. I look horrible, destroyed. There isn't anymore questioning on whether I deserved this life or not. I did. After all that time thinking about my past on that floor, I know I deserved hell.
The knocking softens a bit and I remember someone was on the other side of the door. I take a breath and to splash cold water on my face in attempt to regain my colour. It's unsuccessful.
"Jackie," a raspy British voice says. What was he doing here?
I was in no mood for a fight. "Just a second." I hadn't notice how cracked my voice was; probably from all the crying last night.
I open the door and bright green orbs bore into me. I stay still, water filling my eyes again. I have never seen this boy look so concerned and vulnerable in my life. The colour in his face drains as he takes in my appearance and my throat grows tighter and tighter.
Don't cry, Jackie, don't cry. I keep chanting in my mind.
"W-what... What's going on? What happened to you, Jackie?"
I did my best to stop the tears and as much as I wanted to move, I just couldn't. His longing gaze just kept me there, making my heart heavier and when he speaks in a broken tone, it just shatters into a million pieces. My bottom lip quivers and the tears that have been blurring my vision finally spill. This boy standing in front of my defenseless that stared at me with so much sadness and care for me. This was the Trevor I knew as a child.
It's like he has no time to spare as he pulls me into his arms. His scent of cologne and mint invades my senses and my head starts to spin. I sob into his chest as he quietly shushes me. One of his arms is wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me protectively against him and the other hand gently smooths my hair down in a comforting movement.
"Shhh... I'm here, now," he coos. "Don't cry, love." My arms grip him tighter; as tight as my weakened state allows.
He wraps a strong arm around my waist lifting me up and I wrap my own limbs around him. He carries the metal holder along with me to the little chair in the corner of the room.
I was like I molded into him when he sits and I bury my face into his neck, brown curls tickling my face. I think we can both establish we needed haircuts. Although, I absolutely adored his hair.
What was this? What is going on? What am I thinking?
I would have never seen this coming, but there was just this look in his eyes that made me want him to hold me. It was almost like I needed him to. Granted, I know I wanted Aaron so much, I still have never felt so protected in my entire life. I felt well with Aaron, but with this British boy, I just felt like I knew by just being in his arms in this way, he wouldn't let anything happen to me.
Aaron's touch was warm and familiar, but this foreign feeling Trevor is giving me; it's indescribable. It made my heart flutter and sent electricity through m body over and over again; as if I kept putting my finger trough a circuit hole repetitively. Beyond feeling like I'm walking on air, I feel protected and I needed that more than ever.
It almost feels like the danger I tried to run away from in Montreal just followed me all the way here and I was no longer in safety. I wish they could just lock me up in this hospital with 24/7 surveillance.
Out of absolutely nowhere, someone clears their throat and I know for a fact it's not Trevor. There was no vibration from his chest. I stand warily and the tears just stop all together; I was caught completely off guard with all the thoughts jumbling inside my mind that I forgot about the one person who was able to bring my guard down in the first place. I forgot about the boy that had brought me here last night.
I stare into a pair of worried grey eyes and my jaw drops. I'm not sure if I want to run to hug him or stand here awkwardly with dry tear stains on my cheek. I mean, we weren't really together... We never actually talked about it. Still, it must be very uncomfortable to walk in on me, curled up in a ball, crying on another guy's chest.
I stand there like a deer in headlights as Aaron walks up to me. I'm not sure how or why, but he pulls me into his own arms before planting a kiss on my hair.
I don't know what to feel anymore. This wasn't me. I wasn't weak or feeble and I did not debate over which guy I wanted more. I really wish I could blame it on the medication, but sadly, I haven't taken any. I don't recognize myself anymore. From the inside out, I was no longer Jacklyn.
Who was I? I was a stranger to my own self.
The room around me starts getting very stuffy and I feel my knees weaken along with my head spinning. Before I know it, I'm on the cold hard ground again. Maybe that's where I belong. I always seem to be walking on thin ice anyway.
Author's note:
Hello peepz!
Te ending may be a little confusing, but Jackie is herself, so it reflects perfectly. Anyways I'm going to edit this chapter either before midnight or else, it will go to tomorrow! It's probably full of typos because my H and N tend to get stuck... AwkoTaco.
Team Trevor chapter! YAY!
xo,
A.