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Chapter Sixteen
Chloe
It sucks.
All of it sucks.
It’s always like this, I swear, and I want to feel sorry for myself, but when has that ever helped anyone?
I’ve been in the hospital a day, have heard nothing from Quinn, so I’m totally panicking that he’s freaked out and that Sophie pulled her normal trick where she tells the guy that I’m sick or worse just hits on him.
He can never know.
He can never find out.
I hate it.
Tears burn the back of my eyes. I really like him, he’s so sweet, so good looking, fun, he gets my sense of humor, he likes Garfield and Star Wars, he’s just… the best and I barely know him.
Will she take him from me too, out of anger at me being sick? Will she take every good thing I’ve ever had? And why the hell do I always sit back and let her?
Is it guilt that I get attention she doesn’t over my sickness? Is it my way of giving back to her in some sick manner?
Shit, we need therapy.
Love should not be this hard.
Family should not be this cruel, and yet here we are.
I lay back against the pillow and check my phone again. Sophie went back to the house, so I’m pretty sure everything is fine and I know Quinn’s probably just busy, but I text him anyway.
Me
Are you okay?
Quinn
Holy shit, you’re alive!
I laugh.
Me
Yeah, I just needed to do some blood work and then I can bounce out of here and come see you.
I say this as a nurse walks in, followed by another. Yay more testing. More questions. More, it’s always more. It’s been like this since I can remember. In the beginning I had my parents holding my hands, even Sophie panicking and then slowly one by one they just… left.
So now I have a white wall I stare at and I imagine a family member, it always changes, it’s always different, but they’re in the room smiling, telling me to be strong.
It helps.
Or I lie to myself and tell me it helps, maybe that’s just what lonely, sad people do, just like how I try to mask it with humor and sarcasm.
But right now as I clutch my phone in my hand, with a text message I want to send that says please just, please, replace my phone with your fingers, with your touch, please just stand in front of that wall and stare while I get poked and prodded, while my family is missing, while my sister still hates me so much that she literally dropped me off at the front of the hospital with a fever of one hundred and four.
I collapsed into a wheelchair in the lobby and I just waited for someone to notice, maybe that will be my entire life, waiting for someone amazing to notice until she takes that too.
And then, I just allow it, because she’s also been through a lot emotionally, it’s like I’m handing out all the good that happens to me, to her without fighting her on it, because I’m punishing myself for not being perfect, punishing my body for not working the way it should.
