Stained

Chapter 55

It's been an hour since Damien left, and no one has brought me the kindle or the charger. For an hour straight, I've been hopefully eyeing every nurse's hands like a creep. But every time, I'm left disappointed.

For the most part, it's kept me distracted.

I tell myself thirty more minutes, and then I'll ask the receptionist in case there's been a mix-up or they can't find me.

So far, the medication has worked. However, despite panic not overriding my senses and my heart keeping at a standard rate, unbidden, my mind travels back into the past.

On the contrary, I've always had this fear that if I were at a hospital for a minor problem and somebody else had a bigger one than me, and I got checked before them, and they died, it would be my fault. So that's always been one of the reasons why I've hated going to hospitals.

But then again, I've always tried sugar-coating my PTSD in any way possible.

Once my thirty minutes are up, I go to the front desk. However, when it comes to telling him the relation I have to the person sending the kindle and charger, I trail off.

Damien said we're strangers earlier in his house, but id like to believe we're friends now. So much has happened between us since then.

Regardless, I try not to overthink it as I go with friends. It's not like Damien will find out. 

The kind nurse tells me he hasn't gotten anything but will ring the receptionist downstairs and let them know where to bring it.

When I frown, he reassures me by saying, "it's all probably just a miscommunication that can easily be rectified. As soon as I get word of its whereabouts, I'll have it brought to you right away."

I thank him and sit back down. It's unfortunate and sad how friendly nurses shock me.

Another thirty minutes pass, and still nothing. I don't want to be annoying and go chase it up, but the memories are becoming more than a picture — I'm beginning to feel them too. 

Just as I'm about to stand up, a nurse calls my name. My face brightens only to fuse when I look down at her hands. Her empty hands.

"If you could follow me, please," she says.

Plastering a smile on my face, I nod and follow her into a dark, gloomy room where she does an ultrasound of my hand.

If someone told young, unbroken, happy me that my first ultrasound wouldn't have been of my swollen pregnant belly, I would have been distraught. In that sense, I suppose it's a good thing I'm not that girl anymore.

Promptly after my ultrasound is over, I go to the main desk in the waiting room. Luckily the kind nurse is still there. "Has it arrived?" The eager excitement in my tone is embarrassing. I'm even on my tiptoes.

He smiles sadly. And my face falls along with my heels. What if they declined passing it to me after what Damien did?

The nurses sigh snaps me back to the present, and I realise I'm still standing in front of him.

'Could you be any more annoying?'

My chin droops until it touches the top of my chest. "I'm—."