This is the fifth time I've been admitted to the hospital.
The fifth.
Not the first, nor the second.
Fifth.
Like when you hold up your hand and look at your fingers; five.
That's how many times I've been admitted to this god damned hospital filled with piercing sound of people moaning and groaning in pain, shrieking; the whole place smells like a gigantic bottle of antiseptic and medicine. The walls are too white and too clean, it makes me want to pour some paint over it, red maybe.
Red's a nice colour.
I like red.
The doctors and nurses too boring and dull. All they do is walk around, look at patients, check on that clipboard thing hanging by the foot of our bed, freak out when there's a new patient being rushed in with a wheelchair or a bed, no big deal.
Everything is so boring in here I feel like jumping off a cliff.
The pillows are too hard and scratchy, it hurts my scalp. I noticed that there's a moderately sized blood stain underneath it and I wonder did anyone die while their head was resting on this stupid smelly pillow. The bed sheet are paper thin, it does not function properly anymore. There's a hole on one of the corners of it and it's driving me mad. The bed is creaky, like the rest of the beds. It will creak so god damn loud when you're turning around and it just drives me insane, like how do you expect us sick folks to rest when you have a bed that creates so damn much noise? Every night the creaking symphony begins; you can literally hear the creaking of the beds from next doors and you'll wonder if they're doing more than sleeping with it. It's just so loud and the fact that the walls are so thin does not help either.
Well, after all this hospital stood here longer than my great grandfather so I can't blame it. It's like blaming an old man for walking slow and things.
Like my great grandfather.
But slow walking old man still annoys me though.
On top of all those horrible things about this hospital, there's one thing that makes every of this catastrophe a little bit better.
The doctor that comes and check up on me every time.
The doctor with the brunette hair and cute little mole under his chin.
The doctor with the glasses that fogs up every time he enters my room because the temperature in here is warmer than outside and he has to take it off and clear it, giving me a very nice view of his gorgeous violet eyes.
The doctor that will scold me every time I tried to escape from my room to go flirt with the girl with lung cancer from smoking too much next door.
The doctor that goes by the name of Roderich Edelstein.
It's hard to remember, his name I have to admit.
I'm not good with weird names like this.
I didn't know his name until yesterday when he accidentally dropped his id card and I helped him pick it up. There is was, his cute little face, looking all young and nervous on the front of the card, looking at the camera lens awkwardly. He was a bit chubby back then, I wonder did all the doctoring made him thin.
Poor Roddy.
His name was printed neatly with bold black letters on the right.
Roderich Edelstein.
Cancer expert (or some shit I'm not a doctor geez)
He snatched it back before I can look further and scolded me again for looking at the card as he was embarrassed about the photo. Well he didn't say that, but I think that's what he meant as his face went so red that it looked like a tomato.
It's so cute.
The last time I checked, I wasn't into guys.
I love girls.
I dig chicks.
Boobies.
Girls with their hair and their breasts and their small bodies and their dresses and things.
You know, girls.
With the boobies.
Not dicks.
But then this Roderich, made me had second thought about my sexuality.
Like my heart would skip a beat when he calls my name and things.
Just a simple 'Gilbert' from him will make my heart stop for a while, like a little schoolgirl.
What is this, anyway?
I don't understand.
I'm not saying that I am disgusted by the idea of me being attracted to the same sex or anything...
Just...
Why my doctor?
"You're not eating your cabbages again, Gilbert."
My heart almost stopped beating at that.
I thought I was about to die.
He's in my room again, watching me swallow every bit of my vegetables like a naughty little boy I am. I hate vegetables, and I would pick them out every time I found them in my food. Today it's porridge with bits of chicken and cabbages, and I finished everything, except for the cabbages.
The porridge and the chicken were good, not excellent; but the green bits floating around are not.
"Because they're horrible." I pout, pushing the tray away from me.
"How'd you know that they'd taste horrible when you didn't even try?" he sighs, massaging his temples. He knows that every time when he comes to coax me into eating my vegetables it'll take him hours and he knows that he has better things to do than watching a full grown man with cancer finishing his vegetables, but he's a determined little doctor so he'll put everything down until I've finished those green things.
Ugh.
But I love him for that.
"Vegetables are good for you..."
"I know. You've told me a hundred thousand times before."
"And you should have start eating them."
"No. Or perhaps in German, nein."
He rolls his eyes and forms his lips into a thin line. I give him my shit eating grin that every one hates so much and I swear I saw him clenched his fist.
"Look, you're sick. In order for you to get better you need your vegetables. Now be a good little lad and finish them." he explains, looking into my eyes. I can see the sincerity in his eyes behind those glasses, it almost made me want to swallow everything in the bowl.
But no.
I still hate vegetables.
"You know I will never get better." I mutter, turning around with my back facing him.
I don't feel like continuing this conversation, because I know that if we keep on going then I'll get depressed and I don't like being depressed. It's like accepting the fact that you will die no matter how hard you try and how much money you've spent on all those expensive medicine and equipment.
And I don't want that.
I hear him sigh behind me and then his hand is on my shoulder.
"Gilbert..."
I bit my bottom lip to prevent myself from saying some awfully rude things to him because I know I would. Whenever the conversation turns awkward like this, I would start swearing. Worse than a sailor, even more terrible than a truck driver.
I don't want to swear at him because he's such a precious little creature.
"Look, why don't you go outside and I will finish them. I know you have better things to do, no? And also I heard that little Lily next door is coughing up a fit again." I say, tilting my head to the direction of lung cancer Lily's room.
"Nice try, but no. You have to finish them. I won't leave until you finish them. Hell, I'll even feed you like a gigantic baby you are." he says, snatching over the spoon from my hand and begins to scoop up the cabbage bits in my bowl.
Is this for real, oh Lord almighty?
Is my doctor, my sweet little doctor about to feed me cabbages?
I'd eat a hundred.
"I'm not a baby." I frown, folding my arms across my chest when he put the spoon in front of my lips. I have my lips shut tight when I felt the spoon poking on the surface.
"Then you should eat up. Come on now, don't be a baby. Say ah..." he coaxes, making a cute little face.
I want to punch him.
Should I eat or should I not?
Sweet little Roddy's feeding me!
I'm so happy.
But then he's feeding me cabbages.
Dreadful disgusting cabbages.
Eww.
Should I open up like a good lad I promised I would be or turn my head away and miss out this chance of being fed by him?
"Gilbert, my hand is getting tired."
Oh fuck it.
I open my mouth and take in a whole spoonful of horrible horrible cabbages.
It tastes horrible.
I think I might be the first person to die while eating cabbages.
Roderich's face lights up when he sees that I finally ate my vegetables and smiles at me.
A real big smile with teeth and stuff.
So adorable.
I feel like punching a wall because of his adorableness.
"See? Not that bad, eh?"
I make some gagging noises and pretend to vomit when he gave me a small pat on the head, like I'm a kitten.
I'm no kitten.
I'm a big strong manly man, not as manly as West but still. I've been working out. I used to have rock hard abs too, just this stupid disease took them all away from me.
Urgh.
"It's horrible. Please, don't make me eat them again." I beg, giving him my famous puppy dog eyes, with some tears for more effect.
No one can resist my puppy dog eyes.
Not even West, with his big muscular arms and hard as rock abs.
"In your dreams. You did good today, good boy. If you're in the children ward I'd give you a gold star." he smiles, ruffling my hair before going out the door.
"But I'm not in the children ward, so can I get a kiss instead?" I joke, well, not really.
I hope he'll give me a kiss.
A big sloppy French one would be nice.
Or perhaps we could go further.
Like get naked and stuff.
Please please please.
"Nice try, but no Gilbert."
Aww, man.
"I'll come back and check on you in a bit, ok? Don't try to run away again. Marissa on the third floor doesn't fancy you going into her room, you know? She said it creeps her out, the way you just sit there and read her magazines."
"Oh come on, I'd like to know which celebrity broke up or who gains the most weight in just two months." I groan.
"Don't do it, ok. Also, the kids on the second floor would like you to go and play with them. The hospital just bought them a new set of books and it'd be delightful for you to go read them stories. And also some new dolls for the girls. You can pretend to be the prince, or the fire breathing dragon. Either one is good."
"Aye aye, doc." I say, giving him a salute.
"Behave yourself, Gilbert." he says before turning his back to me and closes the door behind him.
What a cute little butt.