Suspenders, Stripes and Pain Killers, Oh My

I’ve never experienced love. I was always the old one out. It was always me, myself and I. I was never one of the popular kids who stood out. I was more of a hermit crab doing who-knows-what. People didn’t care what I did. They minded their own businesses while I minded mine.

I had a mask on. No one really knew how I felt.

I was in the gutters. I was a one-on-one child.

I’ve never had a girlfriend, and I’ve never had went on a date.

I was never invited to those cool kids parties, and I was never the smartest in my classes.

I was more of a my own person.

I only counted on my family.

My parents are divorced. They have been apart ever since I was three years old. It was my birthday when they decided to go their separate ways.

I didn’t know much back then, but I caught on as I matured. They said their spilt didn’t revolve around me. But in the back of my head, I felt like I was somewhat part of it.

You see, my mum had me at a young age. She was eighteen when I was delivered. My father was the same age. Fresh off of high school, they were in love and chose to marry.

My grand wasn’t too proud with my mother’s choices but she still helped her with open arms.

That was when things started to go down hill. They fought, they played around, they regretted everything. As things hardened, dad moved out. He would call every so often, except then he stopped. Soon afterwards, mum called off the marriage.

My parents are a no and go; however, they still love me, despite their differences.

I lived with my mum and grand mother. On the weekends, I would go and visit my dad. Although as I aged, the visits with my father seemed to disappear.

I missed my dad. We were not that close, but he treats me like nothing has happened between him and my mum. He comes here sometimes to see how I’m doing. My mum on the other hand would come to check on me every day. I knew that she would be tried after long days at work, but she always insisted on coming here anyway. It comes to a point where sometimes she would sleep here to calm her nerves down.

I hated whenever my mum was stressed. I hated seeing her tense. I didn’t like the idea of her straining her thoughts.

I knew that most of her stress and pressures were on me. I knew that she thought about me everyday. With the look on her face, I was sure she was terrified with the thought of losing me one day.

She knew that my time was short. She knew that I would be gone before she would. She knew I would die soon.

I’m here for her. I’m here for my mom.

I am in this help called a hospital. Don’t get me wrong, I know this place was suppose to help me, but I would think other wise.

I didn’t think I would be here. I didn’t think I would suffer like this. I didn’t think I would die like this.

I didn’t think I would have a kidney failure.

I knew that I wouldn’t have that family I always dreamt off. I knew that I wouldn’t be that grey-haired fella surrounded around with my grandchildren. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do things most people imagined of doing.

I took notice on how much noise was coming behind my room. Through the thin blinds, I saw figures surrounding the room next to mine.

I watched as waited near the entrance. They were a happy family. Balloons and flowers were filling each and one of their little hands. They sparked a smile on their faces as they had a feeling in their eyes. They were at bliss.

I listened as they chatted amongst themselves. It was their weekly visit.

I didn’t know the patient next door very well. All I knew was that she was twice my age. I have heard that she just came in and wasn’t looking too glowing. But I knew she was a cheerful person.

I believed that her name was Ocean. Ocean because of the way she carried herself with people. She was a calm young lassie who went with the flow. Her deep blue eyes really conveyed her looks. And her skin was merely unique.

I think she was part Hispanic and part German. That would explain her unique complexion.

Her visitors seemed to be eager to see her once again. I could see the little kids run enthusiastically and I spotted the adults standing with open ears. They had hope in her.

I believed that she would make.

Just as I continued to eye the door, it shot open as a distant figure came in.

“Hi Louis,” said a doctor. By the looks of it, he seemed to be in his early thirties. I suppose he is new around here.

“Tomlinson, correct?” he glanced at me and back down at my chart.

“Yes,” I said loud enough for him to hear. I pursed my lips and looked around shyly as I felt his eyes land on me.

“Don’t be nervous son,” he let out a small laugh, “I’m only here to do some check ups on you.”

I nodded and spotted his socks.

“You aren’t matching today,” I brought up. I felt a small smile crept on my still face.

“I was in a rush this morning,” he smiled embarrassedly, “But it is a good thing black and white matches.”

His name tag read Dr. Tyler Apples.

“Your last name is Apples?” I looked up again at him.

“You are an open youngster huh?” he arched one of his eyebrows and chuckled.

I shrugged, knowing that he is only making small talk.

He licked his lips and continued, “My last name is Apples indeed,” he sighed softly and said in a smaller voice, “I used to be picked on because of it. I hated it so much. I used to bicker at my parents for it. But I then realized that it was not their faults that Apples was my last name.”

He looked down and paused. I could not tell if he was talking to me or just stating it to himself. When he looked up, he sighed once more to himself.

“Anyway, enough of my bitter childhood,” he said as he tried to fake a laugh, “Just do not mind me, and do what you always do here.”

I let his words echo into my eardrum as I drifted to sleep.