The Struggle Is Real

♤twenty three : gleaming♤

♤twenty three : gleaming♤

Sweat trickled down the nape of my neck as I stood before a man I had never met in my life. He stared curiously and mischievously at me like he used to be close to me. He had said he had missed me, indeed. I realized I had been gazing at the two of them, lost in thought for quite a while. A gleam shone in Mac's eyes as he knew I was deeply thinking about the matter. "I apologize, sir. For, uh, thinking? God, who am I kidding. Who the hell are you?" I spat out. My hands slapped to my mouth as I realized what I had just said. A look of horror must have been plastered on my face, because the old man let out a nervous booming laugh. It was almost forced. "Marilyn, you don't remember me?" He asked curiously. "Uh, no?" I was pretty sure I would have been able to remember him. He was kind of intimidating, to say the least. "I'm your fathers old friend. Andy. We worked together for 37 years or so! It.... it was so sad to learn he was gone." At the end of his sentence, his words were slurred and quiet. The word "gone" was barely audible, but I had a pretty good idea of what I was talking about. "When can I go back to class, Anders?" I asked peppily, recalling the day I gave him the nickname. I actually remembered him quite well. "A-Anders? That was the nickname you gave me when you were like 6!" He exclaimed. I smiled and nodded. "I know. We were sitting on our porch overlooking the lake, and we were eating watermelon." A tear slipped from his eye. "You remember." He wasn't asking a question. "I do. I just needed a push, and you did that. But really, what are we doing here and in the closed off room?" I inquired. That was probably the only thing I wasn't understanding; everything else was coming back in a blur. He paused before answering. "You were put under urgent care, where you were in critical condition. You were in a short coma for a little under a month. A boy, about your age, would come in every single day saying he was sorry and one day, he freaked out and broke into the room and tried to rip you out of the bed. He wanted to wake you up, Marilyn. He went insane out of guilt." My insides turned to a nervous jelly as I wondered who it was. "The lads name was La-Liii---uhm, let me think, oh yes! Luke. He said everything was his fault. After he broke into the room in a full rage, he of got taken to medical help. They found drugs in samples they took. Right now he's in therapy and rehab." Andy said. Oh, lord. "That's why you were moved down here to the special room. I also wanted to make her you were okay. Life has been.... a little.... hectic," He paused in between phrases, like he was struggling for words. "Since the incident." He finished abruptly. Uneasily, I shifted in my cushiony chair. The light brown wooden chair was covered in a plastic liner that made it less comfortable. "What else happened?" I asked him really slowly. I was scared. Truly afraid of what he was going to answer.

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hey there :) thanks for all of the reads! ilygsm! keep it going, share this with others if you like it kk? tankssssss :)

ahhhh so luke's nuts. and im bored. byeee people :) ttyl