The Difference Between Vulnerability And Desolation Is Fear | Aphmau AU

Two/Seventeen

The 24th of October, Tuesday, 2017.

The liquid luckily only made me drowsy, and I didn't actually fall asleep. And I knew that I was depressed, I just couldn't feel it. They managed to sit me up, so I could look around. Even though I wasn't able to get up and walk around, or move my arms, I was able to look around and turn my head. The doctor said it wasn't paralysis, my body was just getting used to being used and it'd take a while. It was also quite annoying when I found out I'd have to do physical therapy which would 'help' once I was able to stand. It was basically just going to a gym with a personal trainer, but twice the price of it.
   By the next day I didn't have to be on the drip, and could eat real food. Melissa had to stay with me because mom and dad were working from home and had stuff to do. Of course, she wasn't at all happy about it. She couldn't go out and do what she wanted and had to stay sitting on the couch in the corner of my room, also having to check on my breathing and get me anything I wanted. I decided not to annoy her by asking her to get ridiculous things (as she'd have to get it) and kept quiet. I did have to ask for her water eventually but she left the bottle on my bedside table, so I couldn't drink it. I was too shy to ask her to hold it for me since I knew she'd most likely shout.
   Dad walked in after about six hours. "You two okay?"
   "No." Melissa said, eating a subway sandwich a post mate brought her.
   It was pretty cruel of her since she didn't even bother asking if I wanted anything to eat. My throat was sore since I talked yesterday quite a lot, so it was hard to speak long sentences. By long, I mean over five words. It hurt to talk, so I wasn't able to ask for food, let alone what I wanted. It would've been quite hard to eat anyway since I had an oxygen mask on to help with breathing.
   He looked over at me, and smiled weakly. He wasn't really able to smile at me properly anymore. "Have you eaten?" I shook my head, itching to adjust the mask which had started to become tighter suddenly. He sighed at Melissa and sat in the chair beside my bed, doing something on his phone. "What do you want?"
   "Don't care." I mumbled, the mask making it difficult to understand me.
   By some miracle, he didn't ask me any more questions and leaned back in his seat after five minutes. "Are you feeling any better?"
   "Slightly."
   "Dad, can I go?" Melissa asked, looking up from her MacBook that was covered in pink crystals, not a single millimetre without one. She was spoilt, I'll tell you that. Dad paid her extra just because she was his daughter. For example, anybody else in that job would earn $10 million per year, whereas she got $16 million. And yet, she still stayed at dad's house and called him daddy.
   "Fine." She closed the lid of it and ran out and up to the room she was forced to be in. 
   She had talked to me about it for the first half hour, which I didn't mind because I just wanted somebody to talk to me, but then she stopped talking since I never replied. Again, I'm not daft. I wanted her to keep talking so that I didn't have to think about other bad things. Because after that I started getting flashbacks to the lodge, I started crying, but couldn't reach the tissues, not to even mention wiping my eyes. She did notice because she didn't have headphones on and did help wipe them away and hugged me for a few seconds, then never even looked in my direction again.
   "Mask." I muttered, taking in a deep breath.
   "You want it off?"
   "Adjust."
   He stood up and gently took it off then put it back on in a slightly different position. "Better?" I smile instead of responding since it was since it was easier. He nodded and sat back down, grabbing a random book from one of the bookshelves and began reading.
   We were silent for about ten minutes, until the front door bell rang. "That'll be your food." He didn't get up and answer it, mainly because we weren't allowed to. We had live in maids to do that. Dad couldn't even call people and his work was limited to only doing small jobs, ones that didn't include social interaction. He had hired somebody else to do those jobs. It was kind of funny about what lengths he went to make us safe and to not cause any suspicion.