I blinked rapidly, clearing, what felt like acid, from my sore eyes. I felt…tingly?
My head slowly turned to see my mom's watery smile and my dad looking exhausted, leaning against the wall. I felt bad, but said nothing; I didn't feel like talking, about anything.
"Hey sweetie, how you feeling?" My mom said, moving closer to the bed and taking my hand. It lay dead and lifeless in her as she clasped it tight, as if trying to make it move by sheer will.
I said nothing, moved nothing and did nothing, it was my life at the moment, fun!
I hated my thoughts; they made me feel worse, about everything. The sarcasm made me feel quit brainy, to be honest, but the rest…I wish I could just shut everything down, like an electric box.
"Well, the doctor said you can come home today…isn't that good news." my mom said, not really asking, a fake wide smile spread over her tired features. I just moved my head to look out the barred and blurred glass window, I hated the fact I couldn't see anything and right now was not the time to start using my imagination again.
"Renee, why don't we leave Bella to collect her thoughts, I need a word any way and I'm sure Bella more than a little disorientated than she needs to be. No point adding further confusion." A voice said, I presume a doctor, but I didn't bother looking, just stared at the window.
The foot steps got further away and I grew more comfortable with the way it all quietened down, even my head a little.
I didn't want to have to go back home, to that house, to that street to see those people. I wanted to leave and be by myself, I wanted nothing more than to up and go.
When mom and dad came back into the room, they had a back and a wheel chair, dad stood with the wheel chair while mom came towards me with the bag.
"Bella, were going to get you ready to go home" she said, smiling softly, when I tried to sit up I was hit by a shot of pain in my…girly area and private par, I laid back down and taking a breath, I got up.
I padded to the bathroom, where my mom came in, with the bag, and shut the door. She sat me on the toilet seat and began to take my clothes off, I saw some of the marks on my body, fingertips and hand prints, and I eventually looked at the ceiling. I couldn't even look at myself and I felt sick when I did.
Feeling something wet and warm touch my face, I looked up and saw my mom, slowly and carefully washing me down with raspberry soap and a wash cloth.
She smiled when I caught her eye and I as hard as I tried, I just couldn't get the corners of my mouth to turn up, even just a little. It hurt her and it hurt me, I wanted to be able to comfort her, even if all I could do was smile at her, it would help.
We she was done, she put me in some clean sweats, comfortable. And then brushed my hair and teeth for me, I didn't like it but on some level I did, I liked being taken care of, just not this extensively. My arms were fine.
When we were done, she helped me go and get seated in the wheelchair; I didn't like the feel of it at all, the feeling of depending on someone to get around like this. I just looked on uninterested.
The doctor came and checked me, said goodbye and had a word with my mom while my dad wheeled me to the car. It was like I wasn't even there, the lights were on but no body was home. I just let myself drift to the back of my mind and get settled there.
My dad put me in the front, mumbling something about if mom asked tell her I called shotgun, it made me chuckle in my little home in here, but on the outside I just started at him.
He quickly got seated and buckled us in, I felt numb, kind of empty, like a glass. He then turned to me and started to talk.
"Bella, you know I love you and I always will, no matter what you'll always be my baby. And this thing about you not talking, its fine but I want you to know, when you're ready, if your ready, you can always come to me. Ill be your diary, journal, what ever you girls call it. Put your secrets in me, tell me what your feeling, or just tell me about your day…" he said and smiled at me at the end, I so badly wanted to hug him or show anything that meant I loved him more in that moment than any other time in my whole life and I love my dad a lot.
"Missy, what are you doing in my spot, eh?" mom said laughing slightly as she made her way to us, I just looked forward, waiting for us to move. It didn't take long and too soon we were moving past yellow take and waiting faces.
I wanted to hide…wrong phrase of words, I thought with an outside grimance. Dad caught it and gave me an encouraging smile, before getting out and coming round to help me out.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, bunches of pitying faces were stood there, looking at me, he stood there.
Bile soon rose in my throat again and lurching over, I was sick, sadly, all over dad.
Teasers for all who leave love, hate or somewhere in between...? hehe, hope you enjoyed, near some good bits, i promise ;)