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Sidenote: yall bouta have a fit. inserts silly goofy emoji
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Time is an impeccable thing that we take for granted. We focus on the bigger things rather than what's before us and spend so much time taking advantage of the things we love. Why do we allow the seconds to zoom by? Why do we not appreciate being in the moment? Why do we waste so much fucking time?
Seconds turned into hours; two hours to be exact. Two fucking hours.
You hated the hospital. The hospital had a specific smell of life or death. Goosebumps mountains off the small hairs of your arm. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as anticipation ate you alive.
Kyree passed out due to a high level of stress and anxiety. The doctor said it was the highest stress level they've seen on a young child in a while; poor Kyree.
The only thing you could feel was the pain stinging throughout your entire body. The body functions in weird ways. When you experience sadness, your body feels this sudden pain. Your heart increases with every rate.
Doctors said it was a simple panic attack, but nothing about those struggles of breathing or the fear in his eyes screamed a simple panic attack. Kyree passing out wasn't just a simple fucking panic attack.
Currently, Kyree is awake. However, the doctors advised everyone to allow them to check his health, before letting ancome see him. The doctors planned to monitor Kyree's heart rate and give him some medication. However, that wasn't enough.
He's a young kid under high stress, he needed more than just medication.
You felt defeated. As a guardian, a role model, and his aunt. Just to make matters worse, Santana was under custody for drunk driving with children in the car—a warrant and a 100,000 yen fine for a DUO, how convenient.
You sat still, like an obedient child, watching your mother communicate with the doctor. The sound of your sniffles and medical machine light the room like sirens speeding down the road. It was overwhelming.
You overheard the doctor bring up the concerns about Kyree's speculations of being transgender. "He's a smart kid," The doctor commented.
Your mother called Amaya, who was sitting next to you, comforting your sorrows. Sariya was in her car seat, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the tragedy that her family was experiencing.
