Beautiful/Terrible
Sister, Sister
I opened my eyes.
White walls and tan curtains.
Light blue linoleum floors.
Fuck.
I groaned. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to live. I didn’t want any of this, and yet I was left without a choice. I felt trapped, my heart began to race, the beeping of the heart monitor began to pick up pace. I began to hyperventilate. I began crying. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be dead in the bathtub with Allen, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be! I began to break out into hysterics, wailing uncontrollably. I had the right to live, why didn’t I have the right to die?
A nurse pulled back that fucking tan curtain and ran to my side.
“Calm down, miss. You’re increasing your heart rate. Please, just calm down,” she said urgently. I wasn’t sure how her tone of voice was supposed to calm me down. I wanted to die.
“Where’s Allen?” I asked her through what little tears were left.
“He’s in the room next to you. Don’t get up, sweetie,” she told me, the urgency leaving her voice.
“Where are my friends?”
“They can’t see you yet, you were just taken out of the operating room a couple hours ago.”
I groaned once more. “What did you do to me?”
We had to give you a vein graft, honey, and then we had to cauterize it.”
“Will I die?” I asked her.
“No,” she said solemnly.
“Why the fuck not?” I demanded.
She left the room.
I was left to myself, in the silence. I didn’t like the silence. It made you think about things you didn’t want to. I thought back to my past, back to Victor.
He was my boyfriend in the beginning of freshmen year, right when I met Allen. We made it for a few months. He had a temper, but we were going strong, until the last month. I thought about all the things he did to me. He made me feel things I had never felt before, both good and bad. He was my most beautiful bitter fruit.
I saw him walking towards me.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said smoothly to me. He was perfect. His green eyes enchanted me as I wove my hand through his wavy brown tresses.
“Hey, handsome,” I said back.
He leaned in to kiss me. I had never been kissed before and I was caught off guard. At first I didn’t know what to do, but in my swoon I found myself giving in to him, letting myself go. I felt alive and it felt so good. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
That was the thing about Victor, I though painfully. He didn’t make me better, he changed me into his perfect, beautiful image of a girl. I was only a girl. Small. Allen was different, he didn’t make my emotions go away, replaced by faux happiness. Instead, Allen intensified all feelings, and I was much happier with that way of life. I would rather love and laugh intensely as well as feel misery, than never be sad while living a monotonous life, but that didn’t last with Victor anyway.
I thought of his hand swinging towards me in perishing violence. He had hit me.
Saw his face relax in regret, followed by profuse apologies, but the feeling of where his hand had been on my face was much stronger than any apology he could give me. This was the last time he hurt me.
I thought of the months of abuse I endured, how I loved him so much and was willing to endure it, but then he cheated on me. How could you cheat on someone who loved you so much? After that I gave up, and I gave up on forgiving him as well. It still hurt, though.
I looked back on the first few months of Allen’s and my relationship- him comforting me and mending me, helping me back onto my feet. I loved him so god damn much.
“Allen?”
No answer. I wept.
About an hour later my parents entered the room.
“Hello, sweetie,” my mother said tentatively.
“Hey,” I said flatly, letting them know with my tone that I wasn’t happy.
“Oh, dear,” my mother said, “Look at you, what a mess. I can’t believe you wou-“
“Just fuck off, Mother. Just fucking leave me alone.”
She took a step back out of hurt.
My father, usually quiet, spoke up this time.
“Now just wait a minute, Leda, don’t think you’re going to talk to your mother that way. This family is built on mutual respect and we did not raise you to act this way.”
“Actually, fucker, you did, and I can’t believe you would actually bother saying that to me when Ronnie and I fight all the time and you guys don’t give two shits. So yes, fuck off!”
My mother burst into tears and my father comforted her, now back to his silent self.
The curtains parted once more and in came Ronnie. She guided my parents out of the room like the little kiss-ass she was.
She came back.
Now I was confused.
“You know I fucking love you right?” she asked me.
“I guess this is part where I’m supposed to say yes and forget about all the shitty things you do to me,” I said back snarkily.
She sighed and sat gingerly on my bed, clasping my hand in hers. “Violent delights, we’ll live as if we died,” she quoted one of my favorite songs.
“What does that mean to you,” she asked me.
“It means you should live life to the cutting edge, forget regret, don’t think, be animal, be selfish in your own desires. Whatever you want, take it. Live as if you’re dying.”
“Don’t you see? That’s the problem with you. You think that that’s what’s best for you but it is in this way that you will meet your demise!” she told me with passion. I had never heard her speak like this before.
“I know. That’s the whole point,” and suddenly I could tell, she understood me, and then she began to cry.
“God dammit, Leda, just God fucking dammit,” she cried, “Why do you insist on doing this to me?”
“Because I accept my most selfish desires, unlike the rest of this fucked up place. I accept that I am human. It is human nature to be greedy and selfish, but it is also human nature to regret and loath that side of us. I just refuse to listen to that side of me. Don’t you see? This is freedom of the mind.” I said.
“But that’s where my selfish needs come into play, because even if you are the most miserable person in the world, I want you by my side, alive!” she cried out, before slowly exiting the room, that stupid tan curtain swishing around her perfect form.
I felt awful. I was pumped up with morphine, I assumed by the IVs in me as well as the lack of pain, and yet this moment was excruciating. I didn’t know why.
“Leda?” I heard a call from the room to my left. Suddenly I felt a flood of relief. Oh thank god I thought.
“Allen?” I called back.
“No, it’s James.”
Oh.
Suddenly I saw James come into the room, curtain flapping away.
“I thought my friends weren’t allowed to be here?”
“I convinced them to let me in since I want to become a surgeon.”
“But you want to be a neurosurgeon, not an artery surgeon or whatever.”
“They don’t need to know that,” he smiled brightly. I chuckled.
He continued, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, a little tired is all,” I told him truthfully.
“Well, that’s good. Have you gotten any rest?” he asked me.
“Nope, I’ve just been out running a marathon,” I said sarcastically.
He laughed, “Yeah, you’re right, sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked him, confused.
“I don’t really know,” He told me, “I just feel like I need to apologize and I have no idea why.” He wasn’t being sarcastic.
We sat in silence for a while, until a nurse finally came in and told him to leave. I felt sad.
I sat and reflected on what my sister said, and for once I kind of felt bad. It was a hard thing to ignore a part of yourself, but after a while you got the hang of it, so then why was I feeling thing way?
I didn’t question it much longer because finally someone pulled back that fucking curtain and the room to my left was visible. Allen.
He looked like shit, just like I probably did. I didn’t bother looking at his horrific legs, I didn’t want to see what damage had been done or what they had to do to treat it. I just wanted to forget. To sleep. I just wanted to fucking sleep. Dream? No. I wanted death.
It was because of that that I closed my eyes and drifted off. The morphine aided me in my desperate endeavor. Yet, just as I drifted off, I heard my name once more.
“Leda?”
I grumbled a muffled “what?”
“It’s Allen.”
I opened my eyes to stare at his pale, now conscious figure. I flood of relief washed over me, drowning me in its ecstasy. The feeling was vaguely reminiscent of my opium addiction. I wasn’t going through withdrawal right now, probably because most of my blood that had it in my system evacuated my body, filing out in queues of dripping, threatening red.
I smiled at Allen, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
White walls and tan curtains.
Light blue linoleum floors.
Fuck.
I groaned. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to live. I didn’t want any of this, and yet I was left without a choice. I felt trapped, my heart began to race, the beeping of the heart monitor began to pick up pace. I began to hyperventilate. I began crying. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be dead in the bathtub with Allen, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be! I began to break out into hysterics, wailing uncontrollably. I had the right to live, why didn’t I have the right to die?
A nurse pulled back that fucking tan curtain and ran to my side.
“Calm down, miss. You’re increasing your heart rate. Please, just calm down,” she said urgently. I wasn’t sure how her tone of voice was supposed to calm me down. I wanted to die.
“Where’s Allen?” I asked her through what little tears were left.
“He’s in the room next to you. Don’t get up, sweetie,” she told me, the urgency leaving her voice.
“Where are my friends?”
“They can’t see you yet, you were just taken out of the operating room a couple hours ago.”
I groaned once more. “What did you do to me?”
We had to give you a vein graft, honey, and then we had to cauterize it.”
“Will I die?” I asked her.
“No,” she said solemnly.
“Why the fuck not?” I demanded.
She left the room.
I was left to myself, in the silence. I didn’t like the silence. It made you think about things you didn’t want to. I thought back to my past, back to Victor.
He was my boyfriend in the beginning of freshmen year, right when I met Allen. We made it for a few months. He had a temper, but we were going strong, until the last month. I thought about all the things he did to me. He made me feel things I had never felt before, both good and bad. He was my most beautiful bitter fruit.
I saw him walking towards me.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said smoothly to me. He was perfect. His green eyes enchanted me as I wove my hand through his wavy brown tresses.
“Hey, handsome,” I said back.
He leaned in to kiss me. I had never been kissed before and I was caught off guard. At first I didn’t know what to do, but in my swoon I found myself giving in to him, letting myself go. I felt alive and it felt so good. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
That was the thing about Victor, I though painfully. He didn’t make me better, he changed me into his perfect, beautiful image of a girl. I was only a girl. Small. Allen was different, he didn’t make my emotions go away, replaced by faux happiness. Instead, Allen intensified all feelings, and I was much happier with that way of life. I would rather love and laugh intensely as well as feel misery, than never be sad while living a monotonous life, but that didn’t last with Victor anyway.
I thought of his hand swinging towards me in perishing violence. He had hit me.
Saw his face relax in regret, followed by profuse apologies, but the feeling of where his hand had been on my face was much stronger than any apology he could give me. This was the last time he hurt me.
I thought of the months of abuse I endured, how I loved him so much and was willing to endure it, but then he cheated on me. How could you cheat on someone who loved you so much? After that I gave up, and I gave up on forgiving him as well. It still hurt, though.
I looked back on the first few months of Allen’s and my relationship- him comforting me and mending me, helping me back onto my feet. I loved him so god damn much.
“Allen?”
No answer. I wept.
About an hour later my parents entered the room.
“Hello, sweetie,” my mother said tentatively.
“Hey,” I said flatly, letting them know with my tone that I wasn’t happy.
“Oh, dear,” my mother said, “Look at you, what a mess. I can’t believe you wou-“
“Just fuck off, Mother. Just fucking leave me alone.”
She took a step back out of hurt.
My father, usually quiet, spoke up this time.
“Now just wait a minute, Leda, don’t think you’re going to talk to your mother that way. This family is built on mutual respect and we did not raise you to act this way.”
“Actually, fucker, you did, and I can’t believe you would actually bother saying that to me when Ronnie and I fight all the time and you guys don’t give two shits. So yes, fuck off!”
My mother burst into tears and my father comforted her, now back to his silent self.
The curtains parted once more and in came Ronnie. She guided my parents out of the room like the little kiss-ass she was.
She came back.
Now I was confused.
“You know I fucking love you right?” she asked me.
“I guess this is part where I’m supposed to say yes and forget about all the shitty things you do to me,” I said back snarkily.
She sighed and sat gingerly on my bed, clasping my hand in hers. “Violent delights, we’ll live as if we died,” she quoted one of my favorite songs.
“What does that mean to you,” she asked me.
“It means you should live life to the cutting edge, forget regret, don’t think, be animal, be selfish in your own desires. Whatever you want, take it. Live as if you’re dying.”
“Don’t you see? That’s the problem with you. You think that that’s what’s best for you but it is in this way that you will meet your demise!” she told me with passion. I had never heard her speak like this before.
“I know. That’s the whole point,” and suddenly I could tell, she understood me, and then she began to cry.
“God dammit, Leda, just God fucking dammit,” she cried, “Why do you insist on doing this to me?”
“Because I accept my most selfish desires, unlike the rest of this fucked up place. I accept that I am human. It is human nature to be greedy and selfish, but it is also human nature to regret and loath that side of us. I just refuse to listen to that side of me. Don’t you see? This is freedom of the mind.” I said.
“But that’s where my selfish needs come into play, because even if you are the most miserable person in the world, I want you by my side, alive!” she cried out, before slowly exiting the room, that stupid tan curtain swishing around her perfect form.
I felt awful. I was pumped up with morphine, I assumed by the IVs in me as well as the lack of pain, and yet this moment was excruciating. I didn’t know why.
“Leda?” I heard a call from the room to my left. Suddenly I felt a flood of relief. Oh thank god I thought.
“Allen?” I called back.
“No, it’s James.”
Oh.
Suddenly I saw James come into the room, curtain flapping away.
“I thought my friends weren’t allowed to be here?”
“I convinced them to let me in since I want to become a surgeon.”
“But you want to be a neurosurgeon, not an artery surgeon or whatever.”
“They don’t need to know that,” he smiled brightly. I chuckled.
He continued, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, a little tired is all,” I told him truthfully.
“Well, that’s good. Have you gotten any rest?” he asked me.
“Nope, I’ve just been out running a marathon,” I said sarcastically.
He laughed, “Yeah, you’re right, sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked him, confused.
“I don’t really know,” He told me, “I just feel like I need to apologize and I have no idea why.” He wasn’t being sarcastic.
We sat in silence for a while, until a nurse finally came in and told him to leave. I felt sad.
I sat and reflected on what my sister said, and for once I kind of felt bad. It was a hard thing to ignore a part of yourself, but after a while you got the hang of it, so then why was I feeling thing way?
I didn’t question it much longer because finally someone pulled back that fucking curtain and the room to my left was visible. Allen.
He looked like shit, just like I probably did. I didn’t bother looking at his horrific legs, I didn’t want to see what damage had been done or what they had to do to treat it. I just wanted to forget. To sleep. I just wanted to fucking sleep. Dream? No. I wanted death.
It was because of that that I closed my eyes and drifted off. The morphine aided me in my desperate endeavor. Yet, just as I drifted off, I heard my name once more.
“Leda?”
I grumbled a muffled “what?”
“It’s Allen.”
I opened my eyes to stare at his pale, now conscious figure. I flood of relief washed over me, drowning me in its ecstasy. The feeling was vaguely reminiscent of my opium addiction. I wasn’t going through withdrawal right now, probably because most of my blood that had it in my system evacuated my body, filing out in queues of dripping, threatening red.
I smiled at Allen, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”