Vanilla

Chapter 20

How long has it been since I've been inside of this hospital room?

This lonely, cold, and foreign environment. How many times have I opened my eyes to see a white hospital room with the sound of a heart monitor next to me?

The last thing I remember was waking up to Nyree crying next to me, while she held my hand as she prayed silently to herself.

Oh wait...that's right...I had my first seizure a few days ago. The day before I could be discharged from the hospital.

My heart monitor alerted the doctors to find my body having a spasm with my eyes rolled back.

It was terrifying.

Worst feeling to have when I thought I was going to sleep peacefully that night. 

Waking up to myself having a seizure and faintly hearing the doctors trying to calm me down.

It was like something from a horror film.

Now here I am sitting on my hospital bed, with no friends allowed to enter for health reasons.

The doctors said it was to make sure I don't get overwhelmed and try to take in so much excitement at once.

Or whatever they said - I was too busy cursing life to hear them.

I have nothing to do except question life while listening to hospital noises.

I can't work, I can't go to school, I can't see Lauren - who still refuses to see me or contact me, I can't see grandma, nor do anything social.

The only social thing I can do is go outside for walks, which is boring by myself.

"Dani Hills?" a voice says by the door's entrance causing me to look in that direction.

"Yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

A lady appears in front of me carrying a briefcase and wore a tux. She had a pixie cut and wore prescription glasses - which I think were prescription glasses.

"My name is Dr. James. I am a professional psychologist from the Miami Psych Center, how are you doing today, Dani?" Dr. James took a seat next to me and crossed her legs to look formal.

I scrunch up my nose at her. "Who sent you?"

"The hospital recommended that I come." She smiles as she takes out her notepad.

"The hospital needs to mind their business. I don't need a therapist."

"It is better to talk your problems out to figure out your condition, Dani."

"They already know my problems. The whole world knows my problems."

"Can you tell me then?"

I rolled my eyes and looked away from the therapist. "My mom died when I was young and I used to have bad blood with my own father."

Dr. James wrote it down on her notepad using a mechanical pencil. "Why did your mother die?"

"I'm not obligated to tell you."

"You aren't. That is correct." she smiles. "But it would be nice to know."

"I'm not comfortable saying it."

"Okay then." the therapist writes something down. "You are in this ICU room for retrograde amnesia. Can you tell me how did you injure your head?"

I shrug and look down at my hands that were clutching the blanket. "I don't remember how I injured my head."

"Alright," she writes something down. "Can you tell me a bit about your personal life?"