Just to Live

After Tabitha’s hunger expired to a low hum, she placed her plate in the kitchen sink and waited at the front door patiently for Brian. He appeared a few minutes later with a small Old Navy bag. He gave her the bag and patted her shoulder.

“You should open it,” he urged. Doing so, the bag uncovered a pair of black flip-flops in a size seven. “They’re for you. You gotta walk outside in regular shoes. I don’t think the moccasins are gonna help.”

“Right, right,” she muttered.

Brian then led her to the silver Mitsubishi Lancer that looked brand new and untouched. The interior of the car was fairly comfortable, especially with the soft seats and plush fabric. The windows automatically rolled down, throwing a gentle breeze into the car.

Brian took off into the highway, leaving the roar of the revving of his engine in the midst. Feeling a bit unnerved with the silence, he powered on his radio system, letting whichever CD he left last in the slot to continue its run. He was slightly surprised to hear music from his band with his best friends beat moderately against the bass speakers.

“This is a good song. What’s the name?” Tabitha asked, remembering the finishing lyrics.

“Nice to know you’re a fan of our band,” Brian smiled, tapping his index fingers to the drumbeats of the next song.

Her eyes widened. Of course, she knew her bosses were in the band Avenged Sevenfold, but she hadn’t ever listened to their music. It was quite clear that she just received a taste of the “orgasmic power of Avenged Sevenfold.”

“That’s your band?” she squeaked.

Brian glanced at her quickly before keeping his attention on the road ahead of him. “You sound so surprised. Did you think we would sound bad?”

“Well-uh-I…Hi.”

Brian chuckled lightly to ease Tabitha’s embarrassment. “It’s alright. I’ll forgive you since you didn’t know about our music.”

They reached the hospital parking lot that was surprisingly half-empty. ‘Aren’t these places supposed to be full?’ Tabitha wondered.

Cutting off the engine, Brian climbed out of the car, and clicked the alarm once Tabitha stepped out as well. Upon entering the hospital, he patted her shoulder. “The song is Desecrate Through Reverence.”

“It’s not true, I don’t need you. Don’t waste your time, and don’t waste mine. I’m not your friend, won’t soothe your soul. And in the end you’re all dead to me…” she repeated, walking along side with Brian.

“Yeah,” Brian confirmed.

“Those are strong words to say.”

“They are. But hey, they’re remember-able right? Even with all the hate you can feel in those words.”

“Miss Escobar?” a middle-aged woman with long dark brown hair called, holding her smile and clipboard.

Tabitha stood up and followed the warm smiled woman who led her into an empty doctor’s examination office. Brian followed behind a safe distance, having to appear since Tabitha was still a minor.

“I’m Dr. Halsey,” the doctor said, taking out her stethoscope. “I’ll just give you a physical to check your eyes, ears, heart, blood pressure, and knee jerk reflex.”

Tabitha nodded, sitting patiently on the examination seat. She seemed fine sitting there while the doctor breezed through the examination, but on the inside, she wanted to cry. She always disliked going to the doctor for the fact she had a fear that she would some day have to hear that she harbored a terrible disease that would slowly destroy her.

“Okay Tabitha. Your vitals are fine as is your eyesight,” Dr. Halsey said after recording the information needed onto the piece paper attached to the clipboard.

“That’s an accomplishment for an Asian,” she muttered.

Dr. Halsey smiled. “Nice sense of humor.”

Tabitha hadn’t realized how loud she was. To recover, she shrugged. “If you can’t make fun of yourself, you can’t ever take someone else’s joke.”

“That’s true. Anyways, I’ll have to give you a flu shot. There’s a possibility you could become sick afterwards so I would recommend taking Advil and such.”

“O-okay.”

Dr. Halsey rummaged through her white cabinet, taking out a small syringe and a small bottle filled with—Tabitha presumed—the medication.

“Brian!” Tabitha whispered crucially.

He walked over to her. “What’s up?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Afraid of needles?” he asked seriously.

“Obviously,” she stated, rolling her eyes.

“No problem sweetie. Hold on tight,” he responded, leaving his hand out for her to grab. She held as tight as possible while she received the shot that felt like nothing more than a mere pinch.

Brian smiled. “See? That wasn’t as bad as you thought,” he articulated thoughtfully as they walked towards his car.

“Shut up,” Tabitha mumbled.

“Aw someone’s embarrassed.”

“Shut up.”

“When I got my first tattoo, I almost cried.”

It was a random thing to say, but it made Tabitha laugh. Brian looked downright intimidating at times. It was challenging for Tabitha to imagine him crying at the touch of a needle.

“I’m not joking. I was so scared. It was pathetic. All I got was a “1” on my finger. Pretty sad.” He told the story so many times, the embarrassment he was accustomed to feeling waned. Now, it was a narrative to entertain guests of his.

“Well your secret is safe with me. Do you need me to hold your hand when you get a new tattoo?”

“Shut up.”

“Aw someone’s embarrassed,” Tabitha teased.

“You know, it’s nice to know that you have a personality. I’ve been wondering how long it would take for you to get comfortable with us,” he replied, effectively silencing her.

“It takes me awhile,” she admitted.

“That’s okay. I was beginning to think you were depressed about something. But you’re okay and happy so it’s okay.”

‘Happy is not not what I am.’