March 21, He Fell In Love

One

December 24, 5:32 P.M.

I was alive.

They put me to sleep after they revived me.

People would always say, "you didn't die" or "you were lucky you survived" but every time they say those phrases, I can't help but smack them. Not literally, but you know what I mean.

I believe that this is the right meaning for "alive."

: not yet defeated : still having a chance to win or succeed. - Better, isn't it?

Even better when I fell in love with 5 goof balls since they got of this competition called the 'X Factor' and every single day when I wake up, I always see this poster of them smiling back at me, without even knowing I exist. And another thing I worry about other than dying? Well, it's not getting to meet them. What if I never get to see Styles' smile or Malik's gorgeous eyes? What if. What if. What if. -- I just hated that phrase. But ironically, I still say it.

One of the white robed people walked in my room, my doctor to be exact,

"My dear angel, Gabrielle Rose! How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Well from the fact that I almost slipped away this morning.. I'm good." I said sarcastically.

"Hahaha. My dear Gabrielle, always a joker. Now, I just want you to know that your medicines have kicked in and you'll be 'good' as you'd say. Your vital signs are normal. Like your heart just powered everything up. For a 17 year old girl like you, I'm proud of you." He smiled, left, and then called my parents in. Since they didn't allow any visitors until I was awake.

My parents. Oh, how I wish I didn't put them up for a problem like this. With all the hospital bills and worse, the fact that their beloved daughter almost died. -- I heard the door burst open and there they were, crying their eyes out, hugging me, and making me feel like I wasn't just any other survivor, but someone who had a heart to believe there was always going to be another ending to my life.

*sniff* "Sweetie? We thought we lost you an--" My mom said before my dad interrupted, "No, she didn't mean that we thought we lost you. It's just that your ECG line, the only thing that would tell us whether your fighting or not,and well my brave girl, you fought. You fought hard." All they did was stare at me, maybe the idea of me being alive didn't really kick in their heads yet. I understood that, because my past check-up's were really just the doctor saying that everything was going to be okay, which is a term in the medical world meaning, 'You're fucked and you'll die soon.'

"We're just blessed that you're still with us, my little flower. And may I remind you, but it's Christmas morning tomorrow. And of course, anything for my brave girl." my dad said.

"Dad, I don't suppose you could get 4 British boys and one 1 Irish sunshine to come here for me will 'ya?" And of course, this wish. A wish every single girl prays for, but super impossible to happen. Typical.

"Rose, you ask for this gift every year, those boys have a busy schedule. We're sorry, but it can't happen, but we would give you anything, we would give you the world even without you asking," mom said.

"Oh, alright, how silly of me to think of that, never mind mom, I'll just lay here on my bed till' next year. (Literally)."

My doctor and some of his colleagues came in with big smiles on their faces. "We have good news! We checked all your systems and all your vital signs, everything's great!"

"You can even go home if you wanted to! Well in fact, you could even go to school! We don't know how your body managed to recover so fast, but we're all glad it did!" another doctor said.

My mom started crying, she told me she was just happy that I could spend Christmas at home and not in this place where everything smelled like medicine. I told them I felt strong enough and that I could manage on my own already. They advised me to sleep again, and maybe at 8:30 p.m. I could go home.

9:07 p.m.

I woke up to the sound of rustling plastic because my mom was packing everything up. "Mom, are we ready to go?" I said while still half asleep. "Rose! You're awake! I set your clothes beside your bed side table. We'll be ready when you are." My mom always talked like one of those house-wives who bake all day; so full of life and joy. Dad was carrying my luggages out the door and as I changed, my mom helped me off my bed.

"Funny how it's like nothing really happened, don't you think?" mom giggled.

"Definitely." I said.