There comes a moment in everybody's life where they really question the point of life. A moment when everything crashes around them and even though they're stood still it still feels like they're spinning head first into a wall over and over again. It's that desperate cruel moment when you wonder what the fuck you did in your life to deserve this. What could you have possibly done to piss the world of that much?
That's the moment I'm stuck in right now. This is the moment I never wanted to be in, the one I know I'll never forget. The harshest twenty milliseconds of my life that are surrounded in clean white walls and comforting words I can't hear as I'm told the one thing every girl dreads of hearing.
"Miss Jackson, are you okay?"
I look up at the doctor but I'm staring past him. I want to say no. No I'm not o-fucking-kay. I want to scream at him for telling me all this. I want to blame him for everything. I was fine this morning. I was perfectly healthy. And now...
"Andrea?"
He's taking my hand, he's squeezing it gently. I blink and look back at him before quickly looking away. There's too much emotion in his eyes. He's a doctor, he shouldn't be giving me that look of pity. Of empathy. Like he knows what it's like. He should be like a robot right now. He should be cold as fucking stone. Maybe I'd manage this better if he was.
I hear him repeat the question and I surprise myself when I jump in my seat and yank my hand away. I'm so on edge right now.
"C-could..um.." I clear my throat and try again, "Could you repeat that l-last bit please?"
I watch his chest rise with a deep breath. I watch his eyes burn harder with that sad look again. He really doesn't like giving bad news. I bet he's close to crying with me.
"I know it's hard to understand. But you have to know Andrea, we are going to give this everything we have. We're going to beat this"
I stare down at my hands, at the watch on my wrist. I watch the small hand ticking fast around the circumference of the clock face. I think about everything I've ever heard about this, everything I've always overlooked before because it never concerned me. I hate myself so much. Maybe if I'd listened more I could have prevented this. Instead I did this. I let it get me.
"Am I going to die?" I whisper, heart beating viciously in time with the ticking.
Everything grows louder in the room. I can hear his every breath. I can hear the clock on the wall pounding. I can hear other patients shifting around in seats outside. I look back at the doctor, feel the tears flow hotter down my cheeks. He doesn't say anything. How can he? He can't promise I'll survive. He wouldn't be that cruel. Instead he lets out a long breath again.
And it's all the answer I need.