If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

“Baaaaileeeeeyyy.”

My fingers twitch and my eyelids slowly flutter open, squinting in the light with a sigh. “Missy?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes.

She puts my hands down first. “Bandages,” she reminds me. “And you’re looking better,” she offers, plopping down on the bed next to my waist with a cheerful smile, handing me a cup of coffee. “I sneaked some of Alex’s into this,” she adds helpfully.

I nod and slowly sit up, adjusting the pillows, and take the cup. “Can’t lie,” I mutter. “I look horrible.” It’s past noon, I think, and I’m wearing mostly new bandages now, most of them down a size or so. But I’m still plenty colorful. “They counted over twenty bruises beneath the gown alone,” I growl.

“I’m sorry,” she says sympathetically, patting my hand. “But it’ll get better, I know it,” she promises. “And you get out soon, that’s always good,” she prompts.

“I suppose,” I nod grudgingly.

“Oh my gosh,” Missy whines, swinging her legs. “Just smile!” She pouts like a little kid and I can’t help but let a little one slip. “Thank goodness,” she sighs dramatically, and then pulls up a bag. I recognize it as one Alex brought over the other day or so. “Even the nurses said you could change,” she sings.

“But they’re all so…”

“Girly?” Missy offers. “Hon, you are a girl.”

I give her a look. “They’re all so you. Missy, you know I’d never wear any of those.”

“But now you do,” she smiles triumphantly. “Come on, I know you’re hating the gown, okay? And your nurse is coming by in like, five minutes to help with all the tubes as you change,” she adds. “No backing out. Least you can do is decide, right?” She picks the other bag up and waits with a grin.

Seeing I’ve obviously lost the fight- and my enthusiastic nurse would only proceed to agree with her and I’ll keep to the excuse I’m too tired to fight- I start gingerly picking through the clothes again, and finally I choose a dark plaid dress of sorts, that goes down to my knees, so that’ll have to do.

My nurse arrives and has permission to fiddle with all of my tubes and things. It’s awkward and annoying, but she promises she’s used to it and it’s nothing new, nothing to care about. Finally, though, I’ve switched ‘gowns’ and now I’m helped back on the bed, feeling shaky because it’s the first I’m I’ve stood, even if I was partially sitting and leaning against the bed, and annoyed about being so weak.

Missy spends a while trying to comfort me about my condition and even offers to give me a makeover which I’m quick to decline. Soon after, Gabriela and Brittany come by for some ‘girl time’ and they stick around until my nurse comes by just after dinner, saying it’s time for me to sleep.

Stupid nurses controlling my life.

But they go all the same, leaving me alone. Alex, apparently, has to practice with the band today, so he couldn’t come by. Instead, Dr. Carter passes by and talks about my medication that I’ll be taking- four, I think it was, amounting to about ten pills a day- and approaches a new subject.

“I’ve been talking to Alex lately,” he begins carefully, “and we’ve discussed a new… situation of yours.”

“What?” I furrow my brow, shifting my pillows to get more comfortable.

“Your heart quickens every time it goes dark, Bailey. You toss and turn until the meds take control and you sleep. You’re afraid of the dark,” he finishes at my confused expression.

Frowning, I look at my hands and recall. It hadn’t exactly… been what I thought, but now that I think of it… was it an unconscious fear? But why would I be afraid? I always sleep in the dark, always.

“Has anyone told you where you were?”

I look at him faintly. “Wisconsin, they said,” I murmur. “Or, uh… Wyoming…”

“Yes,” he proceeds slowly and deliberately. “But where we found you?”

Blinking, I turn away, my heart thudding loudly in my chest, wild. My mind tries to go back to… to something, but I can’t get it. It makes me feel confused, nauseous, and dizzy. My hands fly to my head, holding it as my head begins pounding like I’m being slammed into wall continually- and I know what that’s like.

“Bailey- Bailey, I’ll get you more medication, but you need to answer my question,” Dr. Carter lays a hand on me.

Looking at him, I try to read his eyes, the sympathy and concern in them. “I can’t,” I say finally, my shoulders slumping and slowly he puts my hands down. “I don’t remember. I just… my head hurt…” my eyes close.

“We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow, Bailey,” he says softly and leaves me to my misery.