Just My Luck

Hospital

She woke up to the sound of people moving all around her. People in uniform were rushing to close the gash on her hand. She was inside an ambulance. And she was scared. She was wearing a mask with long tubes, connecting to an oxygen tank, even though it was probably unnecessary.

"Your gonna be alright hun. Just keep breathing." Said a calming female voice. Charity tried her best to breathe. She felt a hand on top of hers, and looked to her right, to see her father, with tear stained cheeks. She closed her eyes, to try and get herself out of this nightmare.

She woke up again, this time in a hospital. She was wearing a paper dress, and had an IV embedded in her arm. She looked around the room, to see her dad standing to the side, looking out the window.

"Your up!" He whispered excitedly, kneeling beside her bed. His face looked tired, and stressed. His almost black eyes were filled with concern, and she felt a burst of guilt in her stomach.

Avery walked in, wearing a pink hoodie and grey sweatpants. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she was holding a cup of what she assumed was coffee. Her mother must've dropped off a change of clothes. But then how long had they been there, she wondered.

"How long have we been in this room?" She asked.

"A little less than four hours." Said her father. She looked around, and spotted a digital clock sitting on the bedside table with flowers in a vase. The time was 10:00PM.

Her father left the room to get some food for her. Avery saw her try to sit up and immediately rushed to her side.

"I'm so sorry Charity." She cried, squeezing her in a warm hug.

"It wasn't your fault Avery."She said reassuringly hugging back. Over her shoulder, she saw Michael quietly step through the open door.

"Hey," he said, his face as pale as the white tile floor, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen to you and it's just that—"

"Don't flatter yourself," she smirked at him, "not everything is about you. In fact, this has nothing to do with you." He stared back at her, and instantly came closer, smiling as he took her not bruised hand in his.

Her father was back with a cup of coffee and a paper plate filled with a bagel and some fruit. He sat down in a plastic chair, and just watched Charity, happy that she had friends here supporting her.

A tall woman in stilettos briskly walked in to the room, holding a clipboard. She was wearing a long white coat, so Charity could only assume she was the doctor.

"Dr. Reena Singh." She smiled, extending her hand to Charity's father. She looked down at the clipboard, and smiled kindly at her.

"Hi Charity. Do you mind if I talk to you alone?" She asked looking at her friends crowding the bed.

"Uh, Yeah sure." She said, and Avery gave her a little wave, and Michael squeezed her hand before he left. Her father smiled calmly, and silently kissed her damp forehead. It was just the two of them now.

She liked Dr. Singh. She had long wavy black hair, and skin the colour of acacia wood. Her lips were a deep maroon colour, and she had kind brown eyes.

"Charity, my chart says you've been in an unstable state mentally. Would you agree with that?"

She looked away, embarrassed by the thought of her being weak. She was strong and independent, and she didn't need anyone. As if Dr. Singh could hear what she was thinking, she nodded.

"You are not weak my dear."

She pulled out a new chart, and showed it to her. It was an X-ray of her hand. Everything that had happened was suddenly clear in her mind again.

The magazine. Sadness. Anger. Pain. Blood.

"You have cracked the metacarpal bone, but luckily there has been no further damage. You actually didn't lose very much blood, and you probably passed out more from fear or pain, than anything else."

So she had passed out from fear. Great. She wasn't as strong as she thought she was then. She felt a cold, but comforting hand on her leg.

"Charity. I'm just gonna be blunt with you. I think you are clinically depressed."

Charity was shocked at the realization. Sure, she felt sad for no reason sometimes, and she sometimes felt lonely, even when there were people around. But depressed? That was an ugly word that made her shutter.

"How do I fix this?" She asked.

"We'll, there is no quick-fix. But, I can prescribe you medication to help. I also believe you should see a therapist, and maybe write in a journal."

Charity nodded, and the doctor saw herself out. She could see through the open door that her father was talking to Dr. Singh, and Michael was putting quarters into the vending machine.

Avery slipped in, and shut the door behind her. She fell into the white bed beside her, and wrapped her arm around her. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before Avery spoke.

"I really am sorry. I didn't know that everything was gonna go like it did."

"It's fine Avery, really. I'm not mad at you. I'm just thankful you came when I called." She said.

"Hey, you never got to ask me a question." She asked mischievously.

"Huh?"

"Ya know. I asked you, but you never got to ask me?"

"Yeah. I guess I didn't."

"Well, you can now if you want to. If you're not feeling up to it right now I totally understand." She sadly smiled, grasping Charity's hand.

Charity knew what question she wanted to ask. But, it didn't seem appropriate. Especially in a hospital. She looked into a Avery's eyes, and knew that no matter what happened, they were in it together.

"Avery. Do you remember when I came over to your house?"

"Yeah." She smiled eagerly.

"Well, I was in the bathroom, and I couldn't find the soap, so I checked the cabinet."

"Okay?" Said Avery, her smile faltering a little.

"I checked behind the mirror and..." Avery wasn't smiling anymore. She was now the one looking at the floor, pain written on her face.

"Your mom came and told me you weren't feeling well, so she drove me home. I was just wondering, why was there so much medication with your name on it?"

The question was finally out, and tension lingered in the air, a scent that seemed to follow Charity everywhere she went. Avery wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, and swallowed, raising her head to make eye contact with Charity.

"I have epilepsy."