9:42am
"Working is no fun." Mark slumps in the seat beside my bed. His scarf rises to his face and covers half of it.
I chuckle at his position.
Mark has been telling me stories about his new job and also informing me of what's happening at our college.
He just finished a story about a rude customer that threw their order across the restaurant. Mark said he was scared the guy would kill his coworker.
Mark is always worried about others. Sometimes I wish he would worry about himself.
"Good morning y'all." Suzy walks into the room, her hands are wrapped around the handles of the rolling table piled with medical supplies.
"Good morning!" Mark chirps.
"Morning." I mumble.
Suzy smiles at the difference of our personalities.
"Time for your cleaning." Suzy gets a pair of scissors. "Do you have an appointment, Mark?"
"No, not today." Mark shakes his head.
"Do you want to help?" Suzy offers.
"Can I?" Mark's eyes beam.
"Of course." Suzy chuckles. "It's only wiping Jackson's injuries. You in?"
Mark nods his head enthusiastically.
He's adorable.
Suzy shows Mark how to apply disinfectant to my stitches and bullet wounds.
She cuts opens my gown to reveal the horrendous stitches, wounds, and scars on my torso. She removes a bloody medical patch from my pale abdomen.
She intructs Mark carfully how to clean my wound.
The rag soaked in disinfectant hovers over my stomach. Mark looks at me hesitantly but I nod my head for him to continue.
The rag presses against my wound, I inhale sharply. It sure does hurt.
"Sorry..." Mark pouts as he wipes the blood away gently.
He cleans me throughly with Suzy's guidance.
He wraps fresh bandages on my cleaned wounds. His eyes trail my sliced arms with a pout resting on his lips.
"You promised...." Mark traces his thumb across a one of the thin scars on my wrist.
I drop my head. I broke his promise, I feel terrible about it.
He wraps my arms up anyway after applying an ointment to my cuts.
"Good job, Mark." Suzy compliments him.
The two of them help me stand up so I can change my clothes.
My legs wobble because I haven't stood on my own two feet in two months. Mark's warm hand firmly grasps my waist, supporting me with all his strength.
Suzy puts a new white sweatshirt over my head. Mark and Suzy lay me on my bed.
"Can you remove his pants for me?" Suzy asks Mark.
"Huh?" Mark's face turns red. "Um..sure!" He chuckles nervously.
Mark puts his hand on the wasitband of my pants. He shuts his eyes once my pants slide past my underwear. He gently removes my pants.
Mark doesn't even look at me after he takes off my pants.
Suzy laughs as she puts on my pants. I help her little.
"Aren't you a shy little thing?" Suzy pats Mark's shoulder and laughs.
He glances at me shyly, I smile.
He's precious.
After Suzy gathers her supplies and exits the room, Mark sits on the edge of my bed.
"Was it because I wasn't there?" Mark stares at my bandaged arms.
I shrug.
He shouldn't blame himself for not being there. My mind is my mind. It makes me feel so miserable until I cut myself to relieve the pain.
"It's not your fault." I speak softly.
Mark's shoulders slump. He pulls the hood of his blue hoodie over his head. He pouts deeply as he stares at me.
"It's your mind's fault?" He asks after a while.
I nod my head. Bullseye.
"What makes you happy?" Mark rests his hand on top of mine.
My dull, lifeless eyes meet with his bright, lively eyes.
"You." I speak from my heart.
Once again, Mark's cheeks are painted in red.
"But Jackson I'm s-"
"No. Only you." I hold his hand.
He looks at me shyly.
"You're the only one that makes me happy. Thank you for existing." My thumb rubs against the smooth skin of his hand.
Tears roll down his beautiful face.
"Thank you for existing." Mark smiles through his tears.
Suzy comes to tell Mark that his visiting time is over. He slips on his tanned coat and wraps his red scarf around his jacket.
"Bye Jackson." He waves.
"Bye." I wave back.
He steals one last glance at me before he exits the room.
"You two are wonderful together." Suzy comments.
Her comment makes me smile.
I stare at the white ceiling above me.
For the first time in my miserable life, I'm glad that I haven't succeeded in taking my life.
I wouldn't be able to feel these butterflies in my torn stomach.
I wouldn't be able to feel this love for Mark.
I love you, Mark.
