Yours Truly

Chapter Three: Sometime Tomorrow

“Sometime tomorrow” was going to be the death of me. I figured that meant 9:00 when visiting hours started. Then I realized that it was summer and that normal teenagers slept until 2:00, so I didn’t push it. I sat idly and listened to the steady hum of the machines attatched to me. The nurses would occasionally come in, see how I was feeling, check my vitals, ask if I needed anything, and bring me food. None of them stayed to talk. My phone was in my purse, presumably dead, and out of reach. I would have asked one of the nurses to grab it for me, but I would’ve felt like some needy teenager who couldn’t survive without her cellular device for a day. In all reality, I was a needy teenager who couldn’t survive without her cellular device, but I wasn’t about to let them know that.

            And that’s how I spent my day, flipping through channels, trying to find comfortable positions on the uncomfortable hospital bed, sleeping, counting random things, eating, and thinking of the million and one ways I could kill myself just to end the agonizing misery of waiting for five tragically beautiful young men to come and visit me. I glanced at the digital clock on the small table next to my bed. 2:04, two minutes since I last checked the clock. They should’ve been here by now. It’s not like they hit me with their car and possibly ruined my entire summer vacation or anything. Instead of worrying about those five insignificant five individuals whose names I cannot completely remember or place to face, I grumbled and turned on my side, hoping to drift into a dreamless sleep.

            “I think she’s asleep…we should probably just go.” Several hushed voices pulled me out of my slumber and I rolled back over onto my back and groaned. I stretched and felt a few parts of my body crack and I opened my eyes. Five heads turned sharply in my direction.

            “Good morning!” One of them chirped. “How are you feeling, Iris?” He asked, pulling one of the two individual chairs to my side. I shrugged and his eyebrows furrowed. “What does that mean? Have they found any new injuries?”

            “Not that I know of.” I replied. The boy wrinkled his nose and his smile contorted into a frown. I gave him a questioning look and he turned his head in the opposite direction and inhaled sharply. He then proceeded to leave his seat and take several steps back until he was by the others sides.

            “I’m sorry, Iris, but your breath smells like death.” The boy next to him smacked his arm and scolded him quietly.

            “Well, you don’t exactly look so hot either.” Another one chimed in. Flynn, the only one of the group that I actually recognized glared at both boys.

            “Damon! Mason!” He hissed. “She just got hit by a car, she isn’t going to look good.” Suddenly, I became very self conscious. I felt my hair, which had managed to tangle itself into a giant heap and panicked. I forced myself out of the hospital bed, wincing in the process and dragged my worn out body and it’s electronic appendages into the bathroom. Two of the guys, Caleb and Landon I believe, tried to grab my arms and crutch me, but I pushed them away. I did not need their assistance, and even if I did, they would be the last to know.

            I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t like to rely on others. I like to be the shoulder to cry on, but I never ever  expose any weakness, physical or emotional to anyone. Not even family. I like to see myself as the strong girl who never cries, and I like to make sure others see me as that girl, too. So no matter what kind of pain I’m going through, I never let anyone see it. That is a sign of weakness, and I am by no means a weak person. Or at least I try very hard not to be. Sometimes it’s best to be guarded. When you let your walls down around people, you almost always regret it. I’ve found, at least for me, that it’s best not to show any weakness. Being vulnerable only comes back to hurt you, so I don’t waste my time.