Phobic

Chapter 4:

The morning was even more horrid than the night before. Since, that night, I'd absentmindedly laid my throbbing head on the wounded arm,- as I usually did without a laceration jabbing my elbow -later when daylight came to notice the result as a dark red glow. I gazed at Sara, not seductively, but in preparation to wake her. I just did not acknowledge how yet. So, I sat, staring at the rear of her blonde head. It was the shape of an oar's paddle, but her body was not quite as slender.

I got it. I stood up precariously, anxious to not accidentally wake her before I did it my way. Sara yawned, and I paused statue-like. My eyes were wide in nervousness until she lay still again, and I continued on tip-toeing haltingly to the right side of the bed, where Sara's face was now visible. Her lips pursed, she yawned a second time. I choked a gasp into my throat and crouched on my knees immediately, ducking my scalp area towards my knees. So I was not visible.

My eyes peeked slowly above the sheets before I stood again. Nevertheless though, Sara glared back, too. She rubbed her eyes wearily. "Melinda," She yawned breathily. "What are you doing?" She attempted a laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled, raspy cough. It made me laugh, too. "Damn it, Sara." I hit my hand on the mattress, wistfully receding it into my chest. I groaned quietly, trying to conceal my stupidity. "Well," I explained. "I wanted to scare you, but. . ."
Sara scowled at me. Her lips were still extended towards me. I copied her expression, guffawing. Yet her look grew a bit too serious as we exchanged the looks.

"What is it?" I asked. She'd tell me if she was bothered by something. "Are you okay?" Sara blurted, "Yeah, yeah,", shaking her head. "I'm totally fine." She lightly gripped my arm, causing me small stings, but not enough to phase me entirely. "But, it's your elbow, Mel. Doesn't look good." She points at the doorway, saying, "I said I would take you to the hospital when it was safe too," She trotted towards it. "Now's the time."

I nodded, scrunching my nose to clear my nostrils. I couldn't have clogged, strained breaths in a hospital. After all, it was my second visit; I didn't want to seem wimpish. Yes, I can. As far as I'm concerned, which I'm honesty not, in a medical establishment that's not something newly seen.

God, I wish Joan wasn't post-drunk currently. I'd most likely be pacing around the neighborhood if that was the case, acting worry-less.

But his bad decisions will lead to consequence later, I know it. Snapping me out of my daze, Sara flicked my cheek with her index finger: me rubbing it, saying, "Ow. . ." She beamed, and said, "Come on, we're takin' you back to the doctor's, baby." In my mind I blared, Don't call me baby. But for what reason I knew not. Being called "baby" was just a friendly name. I didn't realize that I was hyperventilating over it, and I stopped.

We both stumbled to the door with sloppy footwork, since it was still technically sunrise and we were sleepy. A coat dangled on the coat rack by the front door. I slipped my arms into the silk jacket from the inside, and woolen on the out. It was manufactured to maintain body heat when winter approached; it was pure black, absorbing the most sunlight, too.

"Now... are we good?" She asked me. "Yes," I replied. "Open the door."
She obeyed, and unlatched the padlock. She shoved the door outward, exposing today's weather upon us in a rough breeze. It was composed of windy gusts of air. Levels of dust and pollen were also high. The ragweed plants just now withering in our garden bed emitted more of the substance than ever. I sneezed into my elbow sleeve. It hurt, but my vigilance made me strong. We stepped outside, both squinting to see clearly in the dry wind. There was a shadowy arch surrounding the porch where my mom usually sat and thought. She'd do it for up to fifteen minutes a day without a word said. But the sunlight resting on the horizon still shone in our eyes. The skyline was covered with violet and orange sky. It blanketed the sun, too.