Paperboy. (h.s. au)

26.

A nurse came in every hour to check up on me and fix the tubes or give me meds. She would bring a plate of food every now and then but I wouldn't touch it. I have zero appetite.

I'm still pretty disgusted with myself. I can't believe how I did that. How selfish I was. And how I almost got myself killed because of it. How embarrassing it must be- my parents telling people that I got in a car accident because I was having a panic attack. I'm sure they're becoming annoyed.

I'm just so flustered. And so tired. Tired of being this way. Of living like this. Tired of everyone being nervous to talk to me because I'm just that nervous freak. I'm tired of this life, really.

I try to push these thoughts away. Realizing that I haven't seen my phone or anything since I've been in here, I look around for it. I search my side table and it's not there. I glance next to a book my mother brought me. I started and finished it yesterday. Being bound to a bed gets kind of boring, but I kind of like the comfort of knowing I don't have to get up. 

It's been a day and a half since Doctor Hall told me we'd wait a few days to see my progress. My mother took David home and my dad has stayed. I feel like he feels this is all his fault. He's apologized more times than I can count. I feel bad for him, because it's really not his fault at all. It's mine.

I haven't seen Harry yet. I'm too scared of what he'll say or do. I'm not even sure if he's still here. I wouldn't be surprised if he has left by now. I wouldn't want him to come in and be disgusted by me. I haven't even seen myself yet. He'd probably get freaked out by the sight of me. All attached to things and scraped up, wrapped up in bandages and things. I'm pale and I probably smell awful. I wouldn't want him in here because the moment he comes in, I know he'll just turn right back around and leave, walking out of my life as he walks out the door.

I definitely want to see him. I want to talk to him and feel what I feel when he's around. But it would just be awkward and weird. He will wish he hadn't come in the second he does.

I'm a mess. Nobody needs to be around me.

I'm being selfish again. I don't want him to come in to see me simply because I don't want him to. Because I'm worried what he'll think. What if I were in his shoes? What if he was in the hospital and didn't want to see me?

I'd probably be kind of hurt...I hope I'm not hurting him. That's really really not my intention.

I might as well just see him. I'll have to eventually. It would probably make me feel better, as he usually does. Maybe I should ask to see him...

Look at that, adding extra stress whenever they had to remove a stress induced ulcer from my stomach. They must love me here. They really must.

Finally, I spot a bag that my mother left on here for me. It contains my old blanket, a small pillow, a stuffed rabbit I've had since I was a baby...maybe my phone? The problem is that it's across the room and I'm sort of tethered to this bed by a billion wires and cords and tubes. So.

After about ten minutes of staring at the wall across from me, my nurse comes in to check up on me. She fires off the usual, "Hi Robin. Need anything? Everything going alright?"

I give her the usual, "Hi. I'm good. Everything's fine, thank you." And the unusual, "Do you know if anyone's out there for me, maybe?"

She stops cleaning my spotless room and taps her chin. "I think everyone went home for a little bit. You know, to clean up and stuff."

I feel my heart sink a little bit. Harry left? Probably realized how pointless it was to wait.

"But the one young man said he would be right back. Went into town for something."