Chapter Two – Days Two to Four
The doctor finally compromised and let me go home, though only because the others are here... It does not matter whether they are here or not, I do not need them!
The nausea started on the ride home. I told myself that I just needed to eat something, but when I did eat, I could not keep it down. I did not tell the others that of course.
I cannot concentrate on anything, if I could just get a good nights sleep... But I cannot, and all the medications have been removed from the bathroom cabinets, even Ma-Ti's herbal remedies. They do not trust me now that I am a 'druggie'.
I spend all day in my bedroom trying to rest, but I feel sick when I lay down and I cannot concentrate long enough to do anything else... but then I do not have the energy anyway. If only the others would let me get some peace, but they keep pestering me to eat. I have told them that I am not hungry, but I suppose it makes them feel as if they are doing something to help… not to mention keep an eye on me.
Wheeler is the worst, I know he feels bad for betraying me and is now trying to show that he wants to help... but I cannot let him. I wont impose myself on a friend, especially when he has made it clear that that is not the sort of friendship he wants…. I do not want anyone to help me out of guilt.
I could go back to my childhood home but it would not be fair to Grandmuska and Mishka either... It might actually be warmer though... Gi insists that it is a symptom of withdrawal, well maybe it is. All I know is that the only jumper I have that actually keeps out the cold, is one of the Yankees basketball ones... another reason I cannot go outside, I cannot let him see that I kept it.
It is midnight and I am still wide awake, and I am frozen through to the bone. At least no one will see me if I get up now. I make my way to the bathroom and from there to the kitchen. I figure I will light the oven, that should make it warmer and once I stop shivering, maybe I will be able to sleep.
As I sit in the darkness hugging my borrowed sweater around me, I start to cry. I cannot help it, everything seems hopeless, why am I even bothering to get well if no-one cares? I am so very lonely.
I have lost all track of time, how long have I been here? It is not helping that the oven gives out almost no heat and I am still so cold. I close my eyes and feel the fabric of the top I am wearing, and imagine for a moment that I am curled up in the Yankee's arms… but only for a moment. Then I remind myself that he does not want anything to do with me now and involuntarily let out a sob at the thought, before burying my face further into my knees to smother the sound.
Why does this oven not give out any heat? I sit up to turn it to a higher setting and open the door so that I can sit in front of it. We had an open fire when I was a child and I think watching the flames might be comforting even if they do not give out much warmth.
Only seconds later I nearly jump out of my skin when, with no warning, a familiar American voice screeches out my name. "LINKA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"
To be continued…