Book 1 - Slit My Wrist, Hope to Die

Chapter 26 - Recovery Part 2

"May I leave now?" Alex grunted.

"Soon, don't worry." the nurse reasurred Alex. "Well, it depends on your results."

"Ugh," Alex caught her "ugh." "I mean, alright."

        The nurse shugged it off, as she walked out of the room, leaving Alex by herself. The beeping noise on the moniters, the white sheets, the charts and so on were the only ones keeping her company. Oh, and the sounds of the doctors, nurses, screaming and the dying as well. Alex was never a fan of hospitals. When she was little, she got hurt a bunch of times: she broke her pinkie, her leg, her foot, she got sick, dislocation and treated.

          Over the years, the fear of being in a hospital developed for Alex. Before the New York crisis, Alex was taken to the doctor every week for her disorders. They would check up on her and she would go to therapy, but since those days are long gone, she hoped not to return to that again. Hoping Tate doesn't have to deal with her bullshit again. Now, because of her bullsiht anxiety, she's back where she was, where she thinks she belongs. She was a walking irony.

         Alex tapped her fingers together and looked around the room. Sighing and clicking her tounge, she hopes to pass the time. She lays head on her pillow, then quickly slams her head in it and repeats. Pissed off and scared, the room made her feel uncomfortable no matter how many times she's been in one. Her stomach felt funny, then all at once it hit her. In the same spot, it started to feel like it was eating her inside because it just wanted out.

             Hopping out of bed with her hand covering her mouth, Alexandra ran into the bathroom and puked up her lunch. Realising it's been ages, she forced a few more chunks of food out. Finished, she sat on the bathroom floor catching her breath with pieces of food around her mouth and on the toilet seat. With a slight movement from her arm she managed to wipe away the food onto her wrist and flush the wasted food away. She put the seat down and started washing her hands when came a knock on the door. "One second!" Alex called out as she finished cleaning herself up. Walking out of the bathroom, she noticed his converse shoes first.

"Hey!" Tate greeted with a smile. A warm smile that lit up Alex right away. "How you feeling?"

"Hi!" Alex hugged Tate tightly and gripped onto him firmly which would make it hard for her to detach if she were forced off him. "I'm alright. I'm still waiting to see if they're going to release me or send me away or something."

"Oh-Send you away? Wait what?" Tate pulled Alex off him, which was quite hard, and met face to face with her as he bent down a little. "I don't want you leaving me."

"I don't want to go. It's just-they might not send me away. I'm most likely just making it sound worse than it really is. What I am certain is that I will have to go to therapy. Hospital is probably later on if I get worse."

Tate stood there staring at her tan skin, her dark brown eyes and curly hair for a while before saying, "I won't give up on you. Slit my wrist, hope to die, remember?"

"I remember." Not knowing why, it made Alex feel at home, safe and not feeling trap. Although, she did feel guilty about her choice. "Well, what do you wanna do? I can't do much, obviously. Mostly has to stay in this room."

"Anything. Doesn't matter, I just wanna spend my time with you. That's all, alright? Tate backed up from Alex and just held her hands.

"Alright." Alex couldn't help but blush. She lead him to the bed and sat side by side. Brushing her hair behind hair and lying her head on his shoulder, sighing at the end. "I'm scared."

"I'm here. Right with you. It'll be okay." Tate whispered to her. He kissed the top of her red head. "Right here with you."

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