Lumai's Mind

Chapter 27: Wide Eyed Wacko

One week later....

The door creaked open and I turned my stone cold face to the intruder. The same person as always, a blond man in blue scrubs, came in. He stared at me for a moment where I just stared back blankly even though my body was tense and trembling.

"Good afternoon." he spoke cheerily even though he knew I wouldn't respond, "How do you feel today?"

He had his clip board ready and looked at me expectingly. I blinked nonchalantly but every part of me was hyper aware of every move he made. His foot shifted, causing me to flinch in pre-flee preparation.

He sighed, obviously fed up with this daily routine. I knew what he was going to do next, he would ask to do some tests on me, but I knew what I would do to the mental he touched me: scream, kick and run.

He may dress like a nurse but I don't trust him, or anyone. He was waiting to hurt me, he was trying to hurt me. Everyone wants to hurt Lumai.

"I really need to do some tests on you –nothing harmful– just looking for any infections or complications with your healing process." he explained tiredly, "We just want to help you but to do that, I need to do these quick tests. Will you let me?" I gave him a heavy glare and shook my head minimally. He wouldn't touch my body ever again, none would.

When I woke up a real doctor explained that I had been in a medically induced coma while they disinfected, stitched and patched me up, even properly fixing my broken arm. While I was grateful to finally be healing properly, I hated that I was touched my who knows who while I was unconscious and unable to defend myself.

"Fine. I won't force you because it's obvious well both only get hurt more." he sneered angrily before storming out. He has a temper, that's why I doubt he's a nurse and if he is then why was he given the job to look after the physically proven traumatized child. I rolled my eyes and laid down tensely, waiting for my body to calm down.

I don't know how long I've been here, I forgot whether it was day six or seven since I woke up and that's not reliable, I don't know how long I was in the coma or whether I've slept over days. I'm just gonna round it to... nearly two weeks since I collapsed in the alley way.

Ugh! Who even cares! It's not like I've got any where to be! Other then six feet under a ruddy rock. No! Stop thinking like that!

Recently, I'd developed a habit of arguing with myself. It not fun, part of me wants revenge, another wants freedom even if it's death and the last one just wants to lay down and give up. Giving up is easiest. I want so badly to give up but I can't, I've got to much to do: revenge, healing, finding Tarnyx, figuring out these dreams and the powerful presence.

Oh, and suffering the miserable existence of my mind.

Pessimist.

Shut up!

But I just want to lay down and not wake up. To stay in dreams where I can still believe my family loves me and the people around me don't just tolerate my existence. I want what I had but now everything is a threat, everyone is a threat. I failed to live in my mostly biological family, a foster system and a foster home. I'm doomed to fail happiness and I'm the one sabotaging it. The poison, the poison will get them. The poison will get them all!

Is that a good thing? Depends. It all depends. Do they deserve it? Is it revealing their inner evil? Is it destroying a perfectly nice person? Doesn't matter, because if my poison can get you then something else could have and made you evil as well. Am I the poison or the medicine? Remove the poison.

"You're a good for nothing screw up! A burden and disease in this family. You're a poison that we have to remove." His voice dropped low and he stalked toward me.