7:34pm
"Make sure you take these pills every night before bed." The doctor hands me another small orange bottle.
I'm tired of taking pills.
"They'll help with your insomnia. You have to sleep to properly heal. Have a good evening." The doctor pats my back and exits the room.
I stare at the bottle in my hand.
"You okay?" Mark's soft voice meets my ears. My eyes raise to the corner of the hospital room where Mark is sitting on the couch.
I nod my head.
He smiles sympathetically.
He's been here all day. He was here yesterday too. And the day he brought me here.
Mark's always here for me.
He sits with his legs crossed, his black trenchcoat covering half of his legs and an umbrella between his slim legs.
I want to tell him thank you.
Thank him for all he's done. For his bright smile, his warm hugs and his caring attitude. I'm thankful for him.
I sit at the edge of the hospital bed. My typical black outfit on and a medicine bottle in my hand.
From the distance, I hear heels clicking against the sleek hospital floor. Yells echo in the hospital as the clicking becomes louder, closer.
"Goddammit Jackson!" My aunt storms into the room. Her brown eyes are blazing with anger and her grip around the handle of her designer purse is tight.
"You always do this shit!" She storms up to me. I flinch. "Guess who has to pay for this hospital bill? Me!"
I shrug.
You should care more about me. Maybe this wouldn't happen.
No.
It's not her fault. It's mine.
It's my fault for existing.
"You're going shrug? You don't care that I have to pay for all of your hospital bills?"
Shrug.
"You don't care that I have to pay for your therapist!" She screams.
Shrug.
"You don't care that you were the reason my sister died!" Her scream pierces my ears and heart.
I look at my angry aunt. Her breathing is heavy, a frown molds her red painted lips and her eyes boil with anger.
Her hand raises and smacks down on my cheek.
"You little bastard! You don't care about anything!" She slaps me again.
And again. Then she punches me and hits me with her purse. And it repeats, the pain repeats.
"Ma'am! Please stop!" I hear Mark's voice as the constant beating continues.
Her hands wrap around my throat and squeezes. Her manicured nails dig into my throat.
"You bastard!" She screams.
"Stop!" Mark starts to pull her off of me.
Doctors and nurses come into the room to pry her off of me.
"If you want to die, die! You useless piece of shit!" She screams more curses at me as security guards drag her out of the room.
Mark stares at my ballistic aunt being dragged away. He slowly turns his sad brown eyes to my lifeless brown eyes.
