Chapter Sixteen

Bree’s Point of View:

Sitting at a bench in the park on a bright and sunny day. The leaves in the trees were a bright green at the forefront of a beautiful blue sky. Birds were chirping happily from the tree creating a pretty sing-song. It truly was a beautiful day. Noticing something white between my arms, I look down to see there is a piece of paper with a bunch of questions on it. Staring down at the sheet of paper, my eyes started playing tricks on me. The letters and words began to jump around and became all jumbled up. I look blankly at the page, trying to focus, but unable to make myself do so.

“What are you doing?” Liam’s voice questions me condescendingly.

“Um… I don’t know…” I responded, shyly.

“Well, if you would’ve studied harder, then you would know what to do!” He retorted.

“But… You can help me!” I state, becoming dismayed.

“I’m not here to hold your hand, so forget it.”

I pout at him. My last attempt at persuading Liam to help me.

“That does not affect me,” He responds unphased by my actions.

I keep my pout while adding big sad eyes.

His face contorts. “Stop doing that. It makes your face look fat.”

“Why are you always such a bully to me?” I question glaring at him.

“I’m not a bully!” His voice sounded offended as his brows furrowed.

“Yes, you are!” You are always mean to me! You tease me and humiliate me. That’s the definition of a bully.” I continue glaring at him, feeling angry.

His face slowly started to draw closer to mine. “Is that what you really think?” He asks seductively.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared longingly into his deep brown eyes.

“But what if that is far from the truth?” Liam’s voice was low, as his face drew nearer and nearer.

I froze. My heart is racing as he grows closer, and I stare at his delicious lips.

“What if… I love you,” He states before kissing me, fervently. His right thumb caressed my cheek while his left hand roamed down, squeezing my butt.

Excitement radiated through my body. How is this happening? I thought, embracing him.

He holds me closer, setting him on his lap, kissing my neck.

I let out a soft moan, feeling him grow harder.

Liam’s hands slowly creep up my shirt.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Opening my eyes, I see that I am still in the hospital. Ugh! What the hell!?! Why did I have to wake up? I let out a sigh of aggravation. It was such a wonderful dream…

Scanning the room, I could see that it was now nighttime. The lights in the room were turned off, except for a few dimly lit sconces on the wall. I sit up for a second to readjust myself since I didn’t feel comfortable anymore. When I sat up, I saw Liam, sitting next to my bedside. What is he doing here?

His arms cradled his head on the side of my hospital.

Is he sleeping?!? How long has he been here? Did he ever leave?

The sight of Liam caught me off guard, causing me to spiral down a well full of questions. Did he leave after I asked him to? If he didn’t, did he just stay to watch me cry? I couldn’t fathom why Liam stayed, sitting at my bedside.

Since it was nighttime, that means that my father should have been back. I look around the room from my bed. There is a figure laying down on the couch under the window. That must be my dad… I think to myself. Just then, a loud, horrendous, ear-shattering snore bellowed from the figure. Yep… That’s him.

After seeing that my dad came back and is close, I stretch while letting out a yawn. Exhaustion consuming me again. Laying down, I go back to sleep.

***

The next morning I woke up as the sun was starting to rise. The bright light shone in my eyes, making me wake. Sitting up, I see that Liam has left. He probably went home so he could get ready to go to his classes or to run away from my father’s atrocious snores. My dad was still snoring loudly on the couch.

Not long after I woke up, doctors and nurses kept coming in and out of the room. They would come in, without saying a word, checking this, checking that, changing this, changing that, and switching things around.

One nurse came in to take my temperature.

“Excuse me, but when will I be able to go home?” I ask, trying to not sound annoyed. What is it about hospitals that makes everyone short and homesick anyway?

“The doctor will come back in shortly to let you know,” She replied sweetly with a smile.

My dad finally wakes up. “Good morning sweetie, how are you feeling?” He questions, walking over to me and hugging me.

“Better,” I reply, returning the hug.

We sat there for 45 minutes, waiting on the doctor to arrive.

“Why do they take forever?” Dad says, letting out an annoyed sigh, as his belly growled.

“If you need to go eat something, you can,” I reply.

He looks at me curiously. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I can go anywhere,” I say, showing my arms hooked up to machines.

Chuckling, he begins, “I wasn’t worried about you leaving.”

“Well, there’s no point in both of us being stuck here,” I retort.

“Yeah, but I figured you may want me to stay.”

“It’s fine. Go get something to eat. I’m sure I’ll still be waiting for the doctor by the time you get back anyway.”

He smiles. “If you insist,” My dad continues, holding my hand. “I’m glad you are feeling better, honey,” Squeezed my hand, before he gets up and leaves.

About thirty minutes later, the doctor finally comes in, followed by another mousey-looking man wearing glasses and holding a clipboard filled with papers.

“Hello, Bree,” He begins. “My name is Dr. Sims. I see you had quite an exciting day yesterday.”

“I guess…”

“So, as you are probably already aware of, we had to give you sutures for the open wound you acquired on your forehead from falling. Along with this, you had a panic attack which was exacerbated by lack of sleep and not eating.”

“Yeah…”

“Is there anything going on that is too stressful for you at the moment?”

“Maybe… I am a college student,” I reply, not wanting to talk to him about anything.

“Do you think you should probably take the rest of the semester off?” He tries to lump me in with other people that have more hectic schedules than I, taking on a lot of classes and falling behind.

“No… My schedule is a pretty simple one,” I state.

“Ok. So, is it something unrelated to school?” He inquires further. “Maybe problems at home, friends, boyfriend, work?”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond.

“Okay, that’s perfectly understandable. You don’t know me, so why would you want to talk to me,” He replies, with a light smile. “This here is my friend, Dr. Raymond. He is a therapist. One of the most trusted men I know. If you’d like, you can talk to him and maybe he could figure something out for you.”

I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

“I assure you,” Dr. Raymond begins, “That anything you say to me is confidential and will not leave this room.”

“I don’t have a problem that I need a therapist for,” I reply, trying to decline the offer as politely as possible.

“People see therapists for all kinds of reasons,” Dr. Sims reports.

“I don’t want to see a therapist,” I reiterate.

“Okay, well, that’s your choice,” Dr. Sims continued. “We want to monitor you for a little while longer and if everything comes up fine, we will discharge you.”

“But I feel fine. Can’t I just go?” I ask, becoming agitated.

“Unfortunately, no. We need to make sure you are okay. We also need to make sure that you don’t come back for the same reason.” He replied sternly. “That’s why we are also going to have a dietician come talk to you.”

“Do I really need a dietician to come to talk to me?” I question confused.

“We think it would be best,” Both doctors state, nodding their heads.

Disappointed, I look down at my hands. “Okay…”

The doctors leave.

Twenty minutes after they left, a nurse walks in, trying to convince me to talk to a therapist, again. I decline. After about thirty more minutes, another nurse tried again, to which I declined again. The next time a nurse came in to talk to me about it, I began, “The answer is still no. I’m not talking to a therapist. I may not have handled myself well, but I cannot manage on my own now. I’m not going to change my mind, so stop asking.”

I was a bit rude, but they were getting on my nerves. It was becoming borderline harassment at this point. After an hour passed, my dad finally comes back.

“So, has the doctor come in yet? Are they going to let you leave?” He questions hopefully.

“No…” I retort, then explain everything they said, along with the overachieving nurses who tied to talk me into seeing a therapist.

We sat, watching the television without speaking. The silence between us was interrupted by the constant beeping of the machines.

I was about to start nodding off again when there was a knock at the door, startling me.

A woman walks in. The lady was short, with long curly blond hair and a bright smile. “Hello, Ms. Adam. My name is Rebecca. I am a registered dietician and am here to talk to you about the importance of eating, portion control, nutrients, and more.”

Smiling weakly at her, I just say, “Okay…” I decided to just listen because this meant I would soon be able to leave.

“I see you haven’t been eating… anything,” She begins, looking at some papers. “But you stayed hydrated, so that is great news!”

I stare at her, causing her to fidget.

“Since you haven’t been eating, it is best that you start your meals small and work your way up to the appropriate portion size for you. Do you go out and exercise or participate in any sports?”

“No.”

“Okay, then your portion size would be smaller than someone who is more physically active…” She states, writing something down. “So, I take it you know which foods are healthy for you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Great!” She continued elated.

The rest of her lecture contained information about what foods contain which nutrients, calories, and how much of each I should consume each day. To which, I didn’t pay attention. I’m sure she soon realized this. I just wanted to go home. I didn’t need to be lectured about how stupid I am or how stupid my actions were.

About thirty minutes later, she finally stopped talking. “So, do you have any questions for me?”

“No, thank you.”

“Ok, I’ll leave you to it then.” She states happily, leaving the room.

Another hour passes by.

Then another.

Until Dr. Sims finally came back in with a nurse following close behind him. “Okay, good news, so I’ll be discharging you soon.”

The nurse came over to my bedside and started taking out the IV and unhooking me from the machines. Hallelujah!

“It’s important that you take the next few days off to rest. And make sure you eat.” He continues. “As long as you eat and get plenty of rest you should be fine. If you start to become overwhelmed again, just take a deep breath, step away from the problem. Don’t allow it to get you back into this state, okay?”

I nod, feeling guilty.

“All right, we’ll schedule you an appointment to have your sutures removed. Make sure to clean it daily and apply gauze to prevent any debris from getting into it, and it should heal up nicely. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Will there be a noticeable scar?” I asked concerned.

“It’s hard to say. But in my experience, yes, there will be a scar and it will be noticeable at first.” He begins, stammering a bit. “But a little makeup should do the trick. Eventually, the scar will start to become less noticeable. You can also apply some cream which can be found over the counter, to help prevent it from being too visible.”

“Okay…” I reply sadly.

The doctor and nurse left as my dad and I sat and waited for the discharge papers, which felt like an eternity.

My dad helps me climb into his truck before getting into the driver's seat. “So, where do you want to go eat?” He questions, cranking the truck.

I stare at him quizzically. “I want to go home and go to sleep.”

“I know, but I want to bring you to eat somewhere first.”

“Okay…” I respond, still feeling groggy. “I don’t know… You choose.”

He brings me to a little restaurant, close to the hospital, which served many different kinds of foods. All of the classics. Hamburgers, steaks, macaroni and cheese, ribs, bacon, soup, chicken, and more could all be found here.

We sat at a table outside. The chairs were very uncomfortable, which made me crave my bed even more, but I knew my dad was still worried that I wouldn’t eat.

“What can I get for you two today?” The waitress asks with a bright smile, staring at my dad.

“Just a cheeseburger and iced tea for me, thank you.” He replies. “Bree, what do you want? You can order anything you want.”

I stared at the menu for a moment, unsure of what to order. “I would also like a cheeseburger with some fries and an iced tea also, please.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back with your drinks!” The waitress replied merrily, walking away.

“So, where is Mr. and Mrs. Hall?” I start, wondering why they weren’t at the hospital nor to meet us for this meal. “I figured they would be here.”

“I told them I wanted to spend time with you alone,” he replied. “It has been a while since we had father-daughter time.”

“That’s true,” I reply, smiling. “I almost can’t imagine having a family meeting or going out to do anything family-related without them now.”

The waitress returned, setting both of our drinks in front of us. “Your food will be ready shortly!” She announces. “Is there anything else you may want while you wait?”

“No, we’re fine, thank you,” My dad states.

“Thank you,” I reply happily as I take a sip of my drink. Looking at my dad, I notice him staring at me. “What?”

He smiles. “I just haven’t seen you smile in a while is all. You even have the spark back in your eyes.” My dad takes a sip of his drink. “You look like you’re feeling a lot better too.”

“I’m just having fun spending time with you.” I return, smiling back at him.

“I’m glad,” he states. “So… another reason Will and Calia aren’t here is that I wanted to talk to you alone and ask you some things. I wanted you to be able to speak freely without having to worry about their feelings in case you may say something… upsetting in front of them,” He started slowly. “I know you’re feeling better, and I don’t want to throw you back into the state you were in, but honey, could you tell me what is going on? It’s completely unlike you to have gone without eating and sleeping…”

I don’t respond at first, just staring at my dad.

“There’s no judgment here,” He returns. “And my intentions aren’t to make you feel sad or guilty. I am just worried about you.”

“I know…” I reply with sorrow as I think carefully. “I just… I got myself worked up and stressed out over something stupid… that’s all.”

He stares at me suspiciously. “This stupid thing you worked yourself up over, does it have something to do with Liam?”

“Partially,” I answer honestly.

“Would us moving out make it any better?” He questions. “I have enough money saved for us to live on our own again.”

I became wounded by his statement. It was my goal to ultimately move out, but I didn’t want my dad and me to leave because of me. I was trying to prevent any ill-intentions between my dad and the Halls. Just me moving out would be fine. My chest began to ache as I imagined living without Mr. and Mrs. Hall. “No…” I finally replied. “I’m sure after getting enough sleep, I will be able to handle it better now.”

My father stares at me sternly, unconvinced by my explanation. “We can afford to look for another place if you are concerned that we cannot manage to pay for it.”

“It’s not that, dad,” I say, playing with the straw in my glass. “I’m being honest. I don’t want to move out right now.” I return with a smile. “I don’t want to start problems between you and the Halls also.”

“Sweetie, you won’t,” he responds in a comforting tone. “This isn’t about Will and Calia, it’s about what will help you. And they will understand that.”

“I know, but I worry about that… Besides, I’ve grown attached to Mr. and Mrs. Hall and Oscar. And,” I admit, “you know I love Mom and I miss her… so much…”

“I do too, sweetheart…”

“But Mrs. Hall has filled that gap I feel,” I say with a smile. “She’s like a mom to me.”

My dad smiles. “I’m glad you feel that way…” Although his voice sounded sad.

“But I know exactly what to do now about the problem.”

My dad lets out a defeated sigh. “Okay… But you better let me know if anything or anyone starts making you feel that way again.” He retorts.

“I will…” I state with a weak smile. “I promise.”