Breaking Point [Watty's 2015]

The After

If you were to look around my room, you might not notice very much at first. It has the same decorations, same items as any other teen girl's room. I have all my school things piled up into a neat stack on my desk. I have a few family portraits up on the walls, and some old necklaces on my nightstand.

What you would notice is the fact that it's a hospital room.

I'm lying in my creaky old bed covered in white sheets, and I'm being fed through an IV tube. As much as I don't want to admit it, having those calories feels nice. I've missed them.

My mom walks through the door, holding some flowers to replace the ones she bought for me yesterday.

"Hey, sweetie," she whispers gently. "How are you feeling today?"

I'm too weak to say anything, but I raise a willowy, bony finger to the IV tube and give her a plain look that says, what do you think?

She clearly gets the message.

"Oh, honey," she croaks, her eyes welling up with tears, and I have to turn away to keep from doing the same.

"We're going to get through this. I promise, you'll be okay."

I feel the familiar wave of sleepiness come over me, and my eyelids start to flutter closed and big, fat tears roll down my mom's cheeks.

"I promise."