Midnights strike

A V E

A S P A S I A V E S P E R

"Darling, if you really want to fight through this you have to start eating!" The nurse reprimanded while I sat on the hospital bed connected to feeding tubes and IV cables

I payed no heed to the nurse nor my mothers glares as I fiddled with Bakers paws.

Baker was a stuffed crochet tiger that I had bought in a festival when I was little, ever since then I'd been absolutely attached to him and kept him by my side at all times. Especially when mum was around. Those times were the worst.

"Aspasia Moratti Vesper!" Mum screeches

"You know mum, for someone who's so devoted to their family you sure are bad at pronouncing my middle name...Morello will do."

She snarled at me and let out a low, temper-filled breath.

The nurse takes this as her cue to leave and when she does, mother dearest springs up from her seat and marches her way towards me in 6 inch pink heels

"Listen here you selfish good-for-nothing cunt. I don't pay your medical bills for nothing so listen to the fucking bitch the next time she tells you something!" Her tone is harsh and her eyes burn with hatred for her first and only born.

She stomps out the room and I release a breath which ultimately starts the streams of tears off, I face my back to the door and stare out the window. People know me as Ms. Happy-go-lucky, I'd like to keep it that way by staying void of any emotions other than happiness.

I clutch Baker tighter to my chest as I silently weep.

The cast on my leg weighs the left of my body down as I try standing up for a moment. I want to get out.

"Ms. Vesper! Please lay down you need some rest!" Martha, the nurse assigned to me, orders softly. She was a plump lady in her late forties with short curly hair that had never been dyed a day in its life.

"How do people get diabetes, Martha?"

"Well..."

"It definitely isn't from eating sweets. Maybe, it's from being too sweet, no?" I giggle at the thought but Martha seems confused at the sudden change in attitude and subject.

"Um...?"

I lay back down on the bed, finally looking at the lady in scrubs. "Don't worry about it Martha."

"What did she say to you this time?" She questions gently a she sits at the foot of the bed

I look down at Baker and whisper "Selfish-Good-for-nothing-Cunt". I whisper it as quick as I possibly can in embarrassment. I feel the stir in my stomach from the anxiety that rises when my mothers voice reiterates through my head, endlessly.

"Love?"

I do not look up

"Avie?"

I screw my eyes shut as I wish for myself to disappear. I hate the pity laced within her voice.

"Aspasia?!-"