Don't take my memories~Drier

Chapter Seven~Makes Me Whole

Drew's PoV
   As the hours passed by, my turbulent mind was slowly put at ease, once I eventually realised that nobody would be visiting my room today and that, for once, I wouldn't feel the overwhelming terror that came when trying to socialise with strangers. My fear was slightly irrational, seeing as most days I would only have to blurt out an awkward 'thank you' for the food they delivered to me from the hospital kitchens, before they would scurry off to aid another sick patient, without much or any effort to converse with me at all. However, as many of the hospital staff were on strike today, including the nurse who regularly delivered my food, Luke had assured me that whoever brought me my food would be instructed carefully to leave it outside my room door, which instantly filled me with a strange sense of relief.

I don't remember exactly when my anxiety and fear of talking to new people had evolved or why it had started so suddenly , as many of the doctors insisted that before I came to the hospital that I was a rather bubbly, sociable young fellow, but now, this anxiety and fear controlled me and determined every move I made. I couldn't talk to people without getting a deep feeling of fear in the pit my uneasy stomach, and when I did eventually manage to get the right words out, they were often stuttered in the most awkward fashion, so that people could barely even decipher them. Throughout the whole torturous ordeal of talking to new people, I would blush hopelessly and constantly look around, completely alert, just so I knew nobody was going to hurt me. I was so scared in those awful moments and I never quite knew what I was supposed to do to make the other person gain an interest in the conversation and more importantly, gain an interest in me. Most of the time, people would quickly tire of waiting half a minute to get stuttered, tiny sentences in response to their long, hearty paragraphs and they would hurriedly excuse themselves politely from the room, clearly wanting nothing more to do with me.

In some ways, I was glad that they left my presence when they did, so that they could spare us both the awkward, pointless conversation before it became truly unbearable, but, in more ways, I wanted nothing more for them to stay and at least give me a chance and perhaps try talk for a little longer. Perhaps if they stayed and showed that they weren't going to hurt me and that they truly cared for me, I would slowly gain confidence around them and slowly lose my awkward stutter, so that we would be able to have a clear, pleasurable conversation, like the ones I often dreamed of. Maybe then, we could even become friends and my days in the hospital would become slightly more bearable, just because I would have someone to share them with. But no, everyone gave up on me within the first minute or so of meeting, and I would be left alone once again to wallow in my selfpity and ponder on the possibilities of actually having a friend in this prison, even though the possibility of it happening seemed impossible. It was all I wanted and whilst many opportunities came along, I was always way too scared to resch out and grab them.

I curled further in on myself, trying not to burst into tears once more as I snuggled further under the white crisp covers of my regulation hospital bed, finding little comfort in the weak shelter they offered me from the world. Because today, for some unknown reason, shelter wasn't the thing that I sought the most in this unbearable place. In fact, I detested the shelter today, which was extremely rare for my timid self. I wanted the world, I wanted to see what it was like outside and to actually interact with everyday people as though I was their equal, rather than a boy who had to be sent to a hospital by his own fiancé, who clearly couldn't be bothered with the hassle of him. I wanted to rid myself of all of that and this derogatory hospital clothes and finally be Normal. Or, as close to normal as I could possibly be deemed.

I was brought out of my daydream by a quiet, barely audible rattle that sounded distinctively like somebody messing with the handle of my door, and in that dream shattering, terrifying moment, my sudden burst of confidence and happiness disappeared, meaning that I forrowed further into the soft covers, once more seeking shelter from the world I had once been so eager to join. I bit my lip, trying not to shake as the awful rattling sound continued to piece my ears like a siren, proving that somebody hadn't just merely knocked the handle accidentally on their way past my room, but was actually trying to gain access to my room.