The heavy-set barista knew what to do. Reyna felt helpless. When she was casually trying to coax Henry to say what was wrong, she didn't know why he stiffened suddenly. She didn't know what to do when his eyes rolled back into his head, the golden green color hidden by the white. The hideous white. When his breaths straggled, his spine arching, chest tightening, she stood still. So still, the paramedics checked her as well, but they were wasting time. When the barista called 911, Reyna sat motionless, eyes wide. The gurgle escaping Henry's throat caused a heavy gulp to force its way down her throat, the blue tint to his face forcing another. Reyna didn't know what kind of brain scan they did, she wasn't allowed to go to the hospital. She didn't get to pester them, force them to do various tests, over and over, until they found what was wrong. However, she knew what was wrong, a guard came to her with a letter from the hospital, a brain scan, and a medical file. Brain tumor. Formed in the cerebellum. Treatment starting immediately. What kind of treatment? They didn't say. Was he going to live? 100%? They didn't say. All they told her was the basics. Reyna couldn't help but feel guilty, she hadn't seen it. She should have, no matter what the file had said. Tumor- early stage, still curable. All short notes, scribbles, hasty thoughts. Not a lot of information. No matter, Reyna couldn't feel enough to stress, to worry, to think. She hadn't known him long, but, he was just a boy. Just a boy, who didn't deserve to have this inflicted upon him. Such a smart boy, her genius boy. She was empty.
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Greeting Insanity
Ficción GeneralI find comfort in the colors of the world That's where the "doctors" have it wrong Sticking people like me In rooms adorned only with Plain Crisp White Walls White room White bed White toiletries White necessities It's vile It's cruel And it makes...
