I Used to be normal

Chapter 5

When I woke up I was in a much larger room, one I recognised far too well. He wasn't kidding when he said he would bring me home. He even put my bed in the communal area. I suppose I deserve that, I have been a pretty shit friend. I hate the communal area. I mean it looks good because I got to design it, but it's generally full of idiots.

Yes, I may have got myself into this mess but why do I have to actually deal with the situation. I wish I could do what politicians and toddlers do, make a mess and leave it for someone else to clean up. But no I have to deal with the situation and their consequences.

Matt walked in with a certain swagger knowing that he had well and truly fucked me over. I'd known Matt since we were about 12, we met at secondary school and we just clicked. He even moved to America with me. We have been best friends for a while. Even with the amount, we have gone through. We had 2 years where we didn't talk. We had a massive argument, all my fault if course, over the direction in which I was going. 2 years later I called him to apologise and we have been close for the past 5 years. He also happens to be the person in charge of making me do my job.

As he walked in he smirked.

"2 days. Out cold. I'm impressed. How are you feeling?

"On show. Please tell me no one has come in to see me."

"Only the people who were from news outlets."

"WHAT! Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Well, they were all reporting that you were suspected dead. They aren't any more."

"I hate you so much."

"They only got one photo each and a small press conference run by me and Myra."

"Why is anyone interested in what happens to me? I'm not even that interested."

"Leave me alone. I want to sleep."

"You can't, unfortunately, you have an interview to do."

"I'VE JUST BEEN SHOT!"

"You were shot a month ago. Stop being so dramatic."

"Are you forgetting that you drugged me and I've only just woken up?"

"Get over yourself and let me dress you."

"I don't need you to dress me. I'm not a child."

"In case you had forgotten, your last assassination attempt left you paralysed."

"Fine. At least let me pick my outfit."

"Will jeans and a t-shirt do?"

Matt proceeded to dress me it was uncomfortable but at least I wasn't in a hospital gown. Being lifted around like a doll waiting to be dressed. It was certainly a humbling experience.

Once I had been so unceremoniously dressed was dumped into a wheelchair ready to be paraded in front of various media outlets. The whole thing was rather embarrassing. They asked me the most awkward questions. Even though I have liked living in America since I moved from the UK. The American press, are like animals waiting for their next newsfeed. They also appear to be under the delusion that they are the greatest country on earth. Where that idea came from I have no clue. This country is a shit show, I mean I've already been shot 3 times. That wouldn't happen in the UK. There I would have been stabbed l.

Once all the interviews were over I was brought back to the common area, at which point I was asked to be taken to my room rather than being in the view of everyone.