Unbecoming

Please Leave

Phoebe stayed by my side for a while after the doctor had left us and I found myself falling in and out of sleep as she hummed lowly, writing in a small journal of sorts.

The silence made way for thoughts to come in to my mind, this time not completely anxiety riddled and more so questioning.

Phoebe's company was by no means taxing or unwelcomed, but it felt strange having someone around me who actually showed an interest and cared about whether I was okay.
I wanted to ask a million questions, why was she still here? What made her decide to come in the first place? How did she find me? How much does she know? That scared the shit out of me. How much could she know about my situation after finding me how she did.

I was a stranger to her at the end of the day, and I keep bringing this up because it's true. We met briefly in the park once and that was it, nothing ultimately sprang out to me that felt as though it gave her enough want to know me as I am, unless a panic attack on a stranger leaves a good enough impression on someone to want to stick around. Still butt-hurt about that one. As well as the fact I now don't know if she knows the one thing I've managed to keep from everybody even remotely close to me.
And yet here we are.

I appreciated not being alone though, it felt nice and scary, but comforting nonetheless.
I knew relying on someone else to bring me that kind of comfort was dangerous, and in any case I would turn the other way and start running but she was a stranger to me too, an interesting one at that. And despite the fear she was just too enticing to run from. And I was exhausted, staying felt like a good option right now.

So instead, I opened myself up to the possibility that this might not be a bad thing and spoke, broken and soft and afraid, "Hey Phoebe..?"

"Hm?" Her focus kept on her notebook.

"Why'd you come?" It was an honest question, one I had been curious about it the moment I saw her in the same hospital room as me.

She shrugged nonchalantly, looking up at me over the edges of the book, "Nobody was there with you when I found you. You died, Raene. I saw you die on that floor and I had to know you'd be okay when they brought you back the fisrt time, so I listened to my gut and I got in the ambulance." She said it so casually, almost emotionless but I could hear the slight tremble in her voice.

"But you don't know me." It was a stupid thing to say and if going by the scoff said anything she thought so too, "But I can still care. And would it be stupid to say that I actually want to know you?" A quiet chuckle fell from her lips, "Hell I'd say you were the most interesting person I've ever had the chance to meet in the last few weeks, however brief and weird that first meeting was."

"Okay, but still I'm a stranger. You're a stranger. Is this not weird? Being at the bedside of someone you met literally hours ago?" My defenses made a return, unwilling and completely of their own accord. Everything was too soft, Phoebe's words, how nice she waa being.

"I know your name, you know mine. You died in front of me. I'd say we're pretty tight." She shrugs again, returning her attention back to the notebook in her hands.

"God you sound just like this other girl I bumped in to, like strikingly similar." Another shrug. "Weirdo."

"Heard that."

"Good."

And before she could say anything else a different doctor walked in to the room, "Hi Ms. Arthurs, we've called your father and he should be on his way now. We will have to keep you-"

I didn't hear the rest of what she was saying. Fuck. He can't come here. He can't come here. No, no, no ,no.

"Raene?" A soft voice shook her out of her thoughts and an even softer hand rested itself on her cheek, pulling her attention to Phoebe who stood now with a worried look on her face, "Hey there you are, you okay?" I feel tears well up in my eyes. She doesn't know. She still doesn't know. Good, keep it that way.