Terminally Hopeful

Chapter 3

"Sadie! Guess what I brought!"

"I don't know, ice cream?" I smiled internally as Connor came into the room, not revealing what was beyond the door.

"No, I brought a wheelchair," he told me happily.

My mouth opened with a small pop. This means I get to leave this plain, boring room. Why didn't I think of this?

"Do you think you can climb on? Or do you need my help?"

My eyes fell down to my legs, still bound tightly in casts. I looked up at him in embarrassment. I needed his help.

"It's okay, I'll help you, don't worry about it," Connor said immediately, trying to ease my embarrassment.

After he helped me into the wheelchair while I pathetically avoided eye contact, we left the room. I hadn't left the room since—ever, actually. I woke up in here and never left, so this was my first time leaving this room.

I don't know what I was expecting when I went through the door, but it certainly wasn't unicorns and candy. Nurses rushing back and forth, family members yelling at doctors, bodies being wheeled in every direction. Instead of making me feel free of that room, it made me want to go right back into it.

Connor didn't stop pushing me though. He wheeled me out of that chaotic area. While I was still wishing I was back in my room, he led me through another door. And this one was a surprise.

The scent of flowers and the grass struck me hard. I was so used to smelling the medicine and hospital cleaning chemicals that I didn't know there was another smell in the world. It was a garden. The garden was inside a huge greenhouse so I didn't get to meet the sky, unfortunately. However, I soon forgot that because of all the colors of the plants.

It was magical, really. Tulips, roses, daisies, you name it, they had it. There were even a few butterflies flying through the air.

"Pretty cool, huh? I come here when I'm not allowed to talk to you and bored. It's not the best of places, but in a hospital, this is really sweet," Connor chirped.

"Yeah, pretty cool. Why is it so empty? I feel like there would be a lot of people, considering it's so peaceful," I questioned.

"Most people here don't care about peace, they just want to get out of here as quick as possible and live their lives," he stated dully.

Connor sat next to me on a bench surrounded with petunias. He sighed, then took a deep breath. I looked at the blue flowers to my left.

"Myosotis Sylvatica; scorpion grass; forget-me-not," the boy said randomly.

"Huh?"

"The flowers you were looking at, that's what they're called. It's said to be a sign of remembrance, but I'm not completely sure. It's also said to be a sign of true love. What do you think about that, Sadie?" he smirked and nudged my shoulder.

"I think that you should shut up," I retorted back.

Connor let out a laugh that went around the greenhouse.

"You're a funny one, Sadie Brennel," he remarked.

I let out a hmph and looked across the garden over to the camellias.

"Do you want to go back and work on the music box? I have to work on it everyday. It's just more fun when I do it with you. Or we can stay," he asked me hesitantly.

I nodded and we started walking—wheeling back to my room. The inside hadn't calmed down by a lot. It was still hectic and uncomfortable to be in.

"Other places in the hospital are not like this, it's really quiet and calm. It's just that this part of the hospital is for the patients who are suffering from something that may be fatal," Connor yelled over the noise.

Suffering from something fatal, does that mean Connor is sick to the point of fatality? Or was he hurt severely like me? He didn't seem hurt, so he must be sick. But he seems so healthy. Connor doesn't cough, throw up, or double up in pain every five seconds. What is he hiding?

We were back in my room. This time, Connor had box filled with paint. He handed me a brush and I took it slowly. When I got the hang of it, it became really fun. Connor and I were passing jokes along to each other.

"Sadie, listen to this one. What did the baby corn say to the mom corn?"

"I don't know, let's get poppin'?" I said while laughing.

"Clever, but no. The baby corn asks the mom corn where popcorn is," he told me while smiling like an idiot.

I burst out laughing even though that joke was the lamest joke I had ever heard in my entire life.

When we calmed down, Connor looked at me with a serious look in his eyes.

"You know what I noticed about you?" he asked.

"No, what did you notice about me?" I questioned back, genuinely curious.

"You're not depressed. You're happy. That night, the night you made a small mistake, had been building on you. That's why you broke. Something triggered your suicide attempt right? Because I met many depressed people, and you're not one of them. So what was your trigger?"

My body went rigid and all the happiness that had been in me suddenly flushed out. What was my trigger? What caused me to go jump off a cliff? He was right. I wasn't depressed. After all, the family I lived with were the best people I could ask for to be my family, and I had never had a suicidal thought in my head, ever.

"Connor, I haven't told you something. My parents are dead. Jane and Wyatt are my foster family members. Everyone knows this, where I live. They make fun of me for it. My mom had dementia, and committed suicide. My dad became addicted to drugs soon after she died. People in my school and neighborhood seemed to find that extremely funny. They would stick stuff in my locker about me being pathetic, post on social media about how stupid I am, and they even vandalized my car once. But I didn't let that bother me, because my mom always used to tell me, "Everyone has a story, if you listen to theirs, they'll listen to yours." That's not true. They don't care about me. And that day, the day I tried to kill myself, my former best friend was telling me off about how my parents were dumb and I would never be good enough. Stupid, I know," I rambled.

To my surprise, Connor didn't tell me that it was such a simple problem, or that I was weak. Instead, he said, "People are idiots, you shouldn't hang out with people. You should hang out with dogs. Dogs are amazing."

I let a smile come across my face at his silly, but true advice. Anyone else might have been offended by his joke, after all, I was talking about my suicide attempt. But this was what I needed. I needed someone to be funny and cheer me up.

"You were trying to be strong. There are two reasons why this is bad. One, it'll make you break at once, and that's worse than crying every single day of the year. Two, no one gives you a hand when you are strong. Sometimes, being stronger makes you weaker," he scolded.

I was even more surprised when Connor put down the miniature house he had been painting and came over to me. He gave me a hug and said to me, "Not everything's okay, but over time, everything will be okay, so just hang on, Sadie Brennel."