Scars {Completed}

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Kenzie's POV

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"The new antibiotics I'm putting you on may make your anxiety a bit worst, okay?" Dr. Robinson, as I came to know her, explains.

"My anxiety is already through the roof, I'll be okay." I slightly laugh.

"And now, about the therapist I was talking to you about; when are you ready to see her?" He asks, examining my wrists.

"I don't know- therapy sorta isn't my thing."

"We can't have you attempt another suicide, and therapy will help with that."

Attempt.

Why did it have to be an attempt?

What if I'd succeeded?

Then I wouldn't have to take Xanax. I wouldn't have to speak with doctors. Roquelle wouldn't even be part of my life.

But no. I failed. And I'm still alive.

"Kenzie?" The doctor snaps my mind away from my thoughts.

"Is there anything I can do to- you know- not go to therapy?" I ask.

"Five days, minimum, Kenzie." He says.

With that he leaves, and I lean back into my pillow.

Before the operation, Mark had brought in my phone, in case he wasn't there and I wanted to talk to someone.

I grab my cell, and punch in Mark's number, awaiting for him to answer.

"Ken?" He answers, confused.

"Hey! I thought you said you'd be here when I woke up." I joke.

"I did, and I'm sorry. The doctors are being assholes and won't let me see you."

"Yeah, I know." I say, slightly upset, "When can you come see me?" I ask.

"Hold on-" He says. I hear him mumble something, and someone replies to him.

With that, my rooms' door opens, and a nurse leads Mark and Ron inside.

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"New York?" I repeat for the third time.

"Yeah, my mom would love to meet you." Mark says.

"Do you think the doctors would even let me?" I ask, as I play tic-tac-toe with Ron.

"Well; I've asked them, and they said as long as you stay on your medication, you should okay."

"When do we leave...?" I quietly ask.

"Wait- you're really willing to come?" Mark smiles.

"Of course I am." I smile back.

"I'll get us a ticket for next week." He says.

"I win!" Ron exclaims, drawing his 'X' onto the paper.

"You cheated! That's not fair!" I joke.

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The week passed by.

An anxiety attack or two from the antibiotics, but I mean, I still made it through the week.

After grabbing my medicine from Dr. Robinson; Mark, Ron and I headed over to my place to pack.

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Mark's POV

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"So both of them have cancer?" I ask.

The plane had just taken off, and Ron had immediately knocked out, where as Kenzie and I were talking about a favorite book of hers'- The Fault In Our Stars.

"Yeah- but only the guy dies." She clarifies, taking my hand in hers.

"And they say 'okay', because?"

"Because that's their version of saying they'll love each other forever." She smiles to herself.

"Maybe we should have our own forever.'

"Oh yeah? What should it be?" She laughs.

"How about 'okay'?" I smile.

"Okay." She smiles.

"Okay."

Her Xanax begins kicking in, and she lays her head on my shoulder beginning to dose off, when she suddenly sits up.

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Kenzie's POV

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"Maybe we should have our own forever.' He suggests

"Oh yeah? What should it be?" I laugh.

"How about 'okay'?"

"Okay." I smile.

"Okay." He smiles back.

I begin to feel drowsy, so just as I lay my head on Marks shoulder, I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen.

I sit up, leaning onto my stomach, hoping that'll ease the pain.

"Whoa- you okay?" Mark asks, placing a hand on my back.

"Uh- yeah, I'm fine." I lie.

I take a deep breath, and close my eyes.

Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain. I chant.

"I'm fine." I repeat, having an awful feeling that something was wrong.

This was the third time since the operation that my stomach hurt so bad.

I know I should've told Dr. Robinson, but that woul'dve just put off this trip.

Plus- whatever's wrong can't be that bad... right?

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AUTHOUR'S NOTE

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Short chapter. I know. Sorry>~<