Sonder {COMPLETED}

VI.

beyoncé giselle.
september 10th.
nyc.

I hated this bitch.

The doctor was sitting here, telling us that she'd literally had a mini heart attack, and she still didn't know how to shut her big fucking mouth. Her doctor had just told her that her heart had literally stopped beating for a few seconds, and she would not shut the fuck up.

I'd felt horribly bad in that stall with her, and even worse when everyone in the venue had a front row seat to what seemed like her downfall. I was praying that she was alright in the back of that ambulance, but I felt like I had wasted my damn breath.

The first words out of her mouth when she became regulated was about that fucking Chanel bag. She was practically on her death bed, and she was still acting like a bitch.

"Ma'am..." The doctor finally caught her attention, and I could hear the irritation in his voice.

I wanted to apologize. I could only imagine what his work days consisted of, and to have to deal with her at midnight had to be a headache. He was trying to do his job, and the fact that she wouldn't allow him to, was pissing me off.

I'd never been prone to anger like this. Her evil ass brought this anger out of me.

That man looked insanely tired, and I felt bad for him.

"You can be deceived by the name—"

"What is the damn name?"

I took a deep breath and bit hard into my bottom lip, trying my best to hold my tongue.

"You had a mini heart attack ma'am, and again, you can be deceived by the name, but this is serious. You were extremely lucky that these two called for help when they did. This could have gone the other way."

"She could have died?" Her mother's voice was full of worry, the stillness she carried in here completely vanishing.

"Yes, but she's very lucky to be here now. I see this has never happened, but that does not mean it won't happen again, likely on a larger scale. Stressors don't directly cause these episodes usually but her levels have seemed to almost triple since the last time she was seen."

"Y'all can stop talking about me like I'm not right here."

I attempted to leave the room, but her mother wouldn't allow me to go. Her ass needed to let me leave before I gave her bitch of a daughter a heart attack that she would not come back from.

"When was the last time she was seen?"

"Two years ago, to the day."

Obviously it was significant information to them because Onika looked away from her mother immediately. She stared at the clock, pretending to read it, squinting her eyes.

"Can the two of you give us a minute?"

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was out of there so damn fast I almost gave myself whiplash. The doctor was not far behind, jumping when the door slammed, her mother's screaming blaring on the other end.

"That will not be beneficial to her health."

"Everything she's saying is warranted, and it's not like she'll hear it anyway."

That woman didn't listen to anyone but herself, and that was why she was laid up the way she was. I couldn't stand her attitude, and I didn't feel bad that she was getting cussed out by her mom. Like I said, she wasn't even going to hear it. The woman could have connected her voice to concert speakers, and she still wouldn't hear it.