Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are sitting in a chair. Its a quite uncomfortable chair, really in all truth, but thats not really what you're paying attention to right now, not that what you are paying attention to is any more important. What is this unimportant thing you are paying attention to, you ask? Why it is the disgusting white tile floor. There seems to be a dead fly there, or nearly dead to be exact. Just sort of crawling around in circles and scrambleing allong the floor with a faint buzzing, but you can't hear it through the music blairing in your ears from your head phones that really should have blown by now.
You're not sure why you're listening to the music so loud that the person next to you can probally hear it, oh wait. Yes, yes you know exactly why.
Because you are Karkat Vantas and you are currently sitting an an uncomfortable hospitle chair stareing at a filthy floor watching a fly wither and die while waiting for your test results in the god damned waiting room. You are listening to shitty modern rock music, and even singing it quietly to your self. Except the fact you are not quiet nor to your self, no. You can feel and see the glares from the other people in the room around you, practicly slaming you with a telepathic ' shut the fuck up ', one even hitting you with a magazine a few times before you flipped them off and told them to go fuck their selves.
Because you are Karkat Vantas you you are almost positive of what the results will be. You have been coughing and having a hard time breathing, on occasion wakeing up from your sleep and spitting up blood into your sink painting it candy red, and has slowly been growing worse and worse. Of corse you havn't told any one, not even your parents or your boyfriend know. Why would you ever want to worry them with somthing so stupid anyway? " Karkat Vantas. Karkat Vantas would you please come to the front we have your test results. Karkat Vantas. Some one get that boy listening to music over there. " You could faintly hear the nurse calling and out of the corner of your eye see them pointing to you. You are not yet ready for the results because you already know what the answer will be. But sadly, some one next to you shoves you and rips the headphones off your head and tells you to hurry up, to which you give them a colorfully worded responce and stand slinging your bag over your shoulder and walk to the front, following the woman into a private room where a single doctor is standing. He kindly asks you to sit down and you comply, already feeling the twist of fear curl its way around your gut and the sick feeling in your stomach. Soon he goes through the normal banalities that is customary before delivering the results with a grave face, but you already knew the results just as well as you knew he had deliverd the results to countless amounts of people. You also know he expects you to begin crying right about now, because thats what everyone does at this point. You spare him the sob fest, and just take an offerd tissues and paw away at the few tears trying to streak their way down your face.
You're not sure why you're listening to the music so loud that the person next to you can probally hear it, oh wait. Yes, yes you know exactly why.
Because you are Karkat Vantas and you are currently sitting an an uncomfortable hospitle chair stareing at a filthy floor watching a fly wither and die while waiting for your test results in the god damned waiting room. You are listening to shitty modern rock music, and even singing it quietly to your self. Except the fact you are not quiet nor to your self, no. You can feel and see the glares from the other people in the room around you, practicly slaming you with a telepathic ' shut the fuck up ', one even hitting you with a magazine a few times before you flipped them off and told them to go fuck their selves.
Because you are Karkat Vantas you you are almost positive of what the results will be. You have been coughing and having a hard time breathing, on occasion wakeing up from your sleep and spitting up blood into your sink painting it candy red, and has slowly been growing worse and worse. Of corse you havn't told any one, not even your parents or your boyfriend know. Why would you ever want to worry them with somthing so stupid anyway? " Karkat Vantas. Karkat Vantas would you please come to the front we have your test results. Karkat Vantas. Some one get that boy listening to music over there. " You could faintly hear the nurse calling and out of the corner of your eye see them pointing to you. You are not yet ready for the results because you already know what the answer will be. But sadly, some one next to you shoves you and rips the headphones off your head and tells you to hurry up, to which you give them a colorfully worded responce and stand slinging your bag over your shoulder and walk to the front, following the woman into a private room where a single doctor is standing. He kindly asks you to sit down and you comply, already feeling the twist of fear curl its way around your gut and the sick feeling in your stomach. Soon he goes through the normal banalities that is customary before delivering the results with a grave face, but you already knew the results just as well as you knew he had deliverd the results to countless amounts of people. You also know he expects you to begin crying right about now, because thats what everyone does at this point. You spare him the sob fest, and just take an offerd tissues and paw away at the few tears trying to streak their way down your face.
Because you are Karkat Vantas and you have stage four lung cancer, with only but a few weeks left to live.