"Mum?" I asked surprised, when my mother entered the room, where I was just talking to my therapist Harris.
"Hey, darling", she responded with a smile, but not with her usual one, I noticed. "Could I just have a moment with Harris, please? Only for a bit", she then suddenly asked.
"Er, sure", I answered, unsure of what to do next.
I looked over to Harris, who nodded at me, so I left the room, closing the door behind me.
I looked down the long corridor, hoping for a nurse to pass by, but no one seemed to be coming soon. With time passing by, panic overtook me.
Grabbing the hand rim of my wheelchair - and unnecessarily the wheels on both sides, which I always did when I felt panicky - I wheeled myself into the direction of the lift of the hospital, careful not to go too fast; I was feeling that nervous.
I hate being anxious. I hate feeling paranoid about something dangerous happening. And I hate lifts.
As I approached the lift, the door numbers went down. 78, 77, 76, 75, 74...
Suddenly the door of room number 73 opened and I jumped slightly. I don't mind being in a wheelchair, I mean, you don't have to walk, but it does have its disincentives.
You, see when I jump while in the wheelchair (which happens quite a lot), I automatically pull the breaks, which doesn't only jerk me forward, but also stops the wheelchair.
So, there I was, blocking the way out of room number 73, and just staring at the person who had appeared in the doorway.
I opened the door of the room where I meet my doctor for a weekly check-up, when all of a sudden, a wheelchair stopped right in front of me. The person sitting in it, who turned out to be a girl, turned towards me, looking scared. She blushed slightly, but she didn't look away, so I grinned at her. She was beautiful. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and her, what seemed to be green, eyes entered my memory, not to be forgotten soon.
She looked at me, puzzled, but then must have realised she was in my way, so moved her wheelchair forward. I closed the door behind me, and tried to catch up with this fascinatingly beautiful girl, when suddenly someone called out behind me. I turned to see a woman, not standing far behind me, but she was looking past me, and as I slightly turned to see who she was calling, though I was pretty sure who, I saw the girl turning in her wheelchair. Her gaze fell on me, but she quickly looked away.
"Oh, Tegan, I'm so sorry, I forgot about the lift. But, hey, I'm here now", said the woman, smiling but looking tired at the same time, and making her way to the girl, called, unmistakably, Tegan.
"It's okay, Mum. A nurse would've come by", Tegan mumbled, but her Mum didn't seem to hear, as she walked past me and grabbed the push handles of the wheelchair.
Mum started wheeling me towards the lift, but I still had this weird feeling in my stomach, probably because of that guy from room number 73 still following us. Unfortunately to me, he didn't continue walking to the stairs, but got into the lift with us.
"I was wondering what you think about going out for an ice cream?" Mum asked, pulling me out of my thoughts about Room-Number-73-Guy.I nodded apprehensively and she smiled thankfully. I was sure that something wasn't right and she wanted to talk to me about it.
"Hey", Mum crouched down so she would be level to me, "don't worry, darling. It's got nothing to do with your health. You're perfectly fine, I'm sure."
There you go again. Mum-power. How it can decipher my thoughts and feelings. Or maybe, my face just gives away too much. Well, anyways, I felt myself blushing again in front of Room-Number-73-Guy, and was never as glad to finally reach the Ground Level and get out, not just because of his presence, which sure made me feel awkward, but also because, well, it is a lift we're talking about.
--
So, here's my first ever story I'm publishing. I hope you like it :)