Clearer (J.HALE)

02

The single bed made me feel younger.

The sheets were a crisp white and smelled of jasmine. The pillow wasn't lumpy, and the bed frame wasn't rickety and unsteady. I stretched out my arms above my head and pressed my hands into the headboard, letting out a long-withheld sigh.

The curtain-less window doused the room in whitish grey and the gloom was surprisingly welcome. It made me feel justified in my drowsiness—like everything was blurred and sleepy and slow. Paired with the crashing of waves and whistling winds, I felt almost as if I were in one of those sleep-meditation tapes.

The bedroom was small, housing a bed, a chest of drawers, a wooden rocking chair and a bookshelf, but it was sweet. I liked it.

My phone buzzed.

Where r u? ~ Mum

I dropped the phone down onto the bed and then fumbled to catch it, having forgotten that good mattresses were bouncy. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tapped my toes on the floor, letting out a yawn.

"Good morning," Aunt Meg greeted as I stomped down the stairs, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I let out a noise that vaguely resembled a "Morning" and plodded straight for the coffee pot, before stopping in my tracks.

"It's decaf," Meg said, patting me on the shoulder,

I poured myself a cup.

"I'd forgotten what a delight you are in the morning," she added, gently smacking my bum with the magazine she had been reading as she passed.

I jumped at the impact, nearly spilling coffee all over myself. "Mean."

"Your appointment with Dr Cullen is at ten," she said.

I grumbled, before actually processing what she'd said. "Wait, huh?"

"I called last night; he's managed to fit you in today." She threw her hands up when I blinked at her. "I can be very persuasive."

My befuddlement was fleeting as I glanced at the clock. "Ten? That's in fifteen minutes!"

She shrugged. "Best get a move on."

To my dismay, the coffee had to be abandoned, and I scrambled up the stairs again to dress in a hurry. I yanked a large jumper over my head and donned a pair of faded jeans I'd thrifted, pulling on my shoes whilst hopping toward the front door and bundling my hair up into a bun. Aunt Meg handed me a piece of toast and pushed me out into the drizzling rain, locking the door behind us.

"That was speedy, I'm impressed."

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't mess around."

The drive through town was pleasant. Roads lined with thick forest, barely any traffic, the air rattling in through the cracked windows moist and clean. I chewed on the toast distractedly, counting the number of shops we passed on the high street and smiling to myself, before we pulled in to the large—and surprisingly empty—hospital parking lot.

"I feel like I should warn you," Meg said as she cut the engine. "About Dr Cullen."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

"He's just..."

I waited as she tossed words around in her head.

"So attractive."

I let out a laugh. "You made me think you'd booked me an appointment with a psychopath."

"I just think you should go in prepared."