The Calm Before The Storm

Cause There's No Comfort In The Waiting Room

~Chloe~

No more than 15 minutes later, the doctor returns with a fresh set of clothes which I gratefully take and change into in the bathroom, abandoning the thin paper gown in the trash. I smirk at my get up, totally not my style but... comfy and... actually, I could get used to this.

It's a plain white t-shirt with simple blue jeans. Gimmie a red jacket and I will truly be a Rebel Without a Cause.

Or, I'll look like Fry from Futurama with blue hair.

Heh... god, I'm a dork.

Anyways, I leave the bathroom and return my seat. Along with the clothes, the doctor (who's name I never caught) gave me a bag with all the things I came in with. I grab my phone and wallet and put them in their respective pockets.

"Ow, ow, ow..." I mutter, brushing up against my side wound.

Ahhg, this is going to take some getting used to, I think, sighing a little. I tap my fingers against my knee waiting for... something to happen.

I don't know!

"Fuck...".

What am I going to do, Max is... hell, I don't even know what Max is, How Max is, or Where Max is. I groan and drag my hands across my face, wincing when I hit a few bandaged cuts. Tears swell in my eyes again as I break down in silent but painful tears.

"Max...".

I'm such a fucking fuck up... why did I buy that fucking ring? We've been together for barely two months... hell, we've barely gotten past making out, which even then Max is weird about. I can't blame her, she's hesitant to do anything physical for a reason I don't think I want to know.

Ugh, STOP. THINKING, I curse at myself, grumbling irritably.

When I asked... she looked... so scared, so vulnerable, so... terrified. I know I'd rushed the question, basically forced it on her, but... I never thought this is where it would land us.

I close my eyes tightly as flashes of the accident shoot through my mind. There was so much blood... I- I didn't... I don't... how can someone so small bleed so much?

Max is... Max is fragile as it is and something like this... could destroy her.

She's going to blame herself for this... I know it, I know her.

I sigh unevenly and sniffle some more, "God... *sigh* fuck,".

I don't even know what to say right now... or what to do.

I look up at the clock and see that barely, just barely... 3 minutes have passed.

I want to scream and cry and kick like a fucking kid, I want to take this fucking crutch and beat the shit out of something, I want to... I- I want. I cry more at my next thought.

I want to go home.

To Arcadia Bay.

To My parents.

To Joyce and David.

I want them to hold me when I cry and kiss the pain away.

Some of the people around me shift nervously at my pitiful cries, while others get up and ask if I'm okay to which I replied, "I don't know". It's true. I don't even know if I'm okay.

This hurts more than when we found Rachel.

One person even opted to sit with me until I knew that whomever I was waiting for was alright. I politely declined though, not wanting to put my grief on anyone else.