The Waiting Room

Story of Boy meets Girl

29 June 2046 �" 11:57 pm

I hate the waiting rooms at the hospital; I have hated them since I could remember. I hate just sitting there and waiting with all these people. Some coming out from the back screaming and crying after losing their loved ones, some patients walking around looking frail and just about to drop any second to their grave, the other people sitting around here trying to talk to you and ask you why you are here to see if they can sympathize with you�" it’s such an uncomfortable pity party setting.

I got the call to come in about three hours ago, it’s been a usual routine for the past couple months, either a seizure, a nervous breakdown, screaming and threatening her neighbors, finding her miles away from her home wandering the roads and all has been happening because of the mistakes she has from her troubled years. This time though it was serious �" she had hurt herself.

I picked up the phone and it was the doctor on the phone notifying me that the caretaker came in and saw her laying down on the bathroom floor and her whole body shaking and blood all over the floor from her wrists and neck. After each time I have received a phone call from the doctor about her I have held back the tears but this time I could not. I had to �" it has gotten worse, we both knew that this was going to happen, we knew she was going to have these long term side effects but I thought that I could have stopped it rewrite what’s already written for her. I remember telling her.

 

   Cora, nothing will happen, I am here now, I’ll be here tomorrow, and I’ll be here forever.

 

I screamed after hanging up the phone; threw the phone across the room, and then the lamp, and pushed all the picture frames of us off the desk. Already fatigued from that I just sat down on the floor screaming into my arms and letting the tears fall �" I have failed her, I lied to her and I’m sorry.

Now I’m here in the waiting room, my legs fidgeting, and hands shaky, and eyes watery, and pissed at the world. I grab my water on the floor by my feet. I take a swig of it and set it down. Some other family members are here but most try to avoid me. I’ve tried to seclude myself from the world after the incident. She hated me for it, and for all the s**t that has been happening I hate myself for it also.

Being old you ponder on your life and the mistakes you’ve made or what you could have done better. Sitting here my 50 year old mind wandered off and thought about that one day she let me go. I can exactly remember the look on her face, how she struggled to say the words, she refused to look directly at me �" I don’t understand, with all the memories that we had made together I can recollect many of them but not with as much details as I can with this particular memory. It haunts me and here I am now �" sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, thinking that I am the reason why she is here.

I feel my throat tighten and my eyes begin to fill with tears; I’m trying to hold it back not right here, Cora would want me to be strong. I stand up and walk to the bathroom, go to the sink and turn on the faucet to warm water and let it run for a while. I stare at my aged face in the mirror, the damage and things it has gone through. I take my glasses off and cup my hands under the water and throw the warm water on my face. I slap my face a couple of times and turn off the faucet, put my glasses back on, dry my hands and take one last look in the mirror. Since she has left it’s been hard to look at myself in the mirror only because I was so use to here being right next to me when I did and with her right there it looked perfect. The times we are getting ready for the day in the morning, she’s doing her makeup and I’ll be either beside her or behind her, and just looking in the mirror with her right there made me look better because she was my better half, she made me love myself with her right there.

I walked out of the bathroom and felt cold stares from her family members as I went back to my seat. I tried to make it look like that I did not notice their staring so I looked at the table next to me and looked at the variety of choices of magazines I could pretend to read. As I am looking for a magazine from the corner of my eye I can see a woman approaching me. I pretend like I do not see her as she sits down in the chair next to me on the left. I grab a random magazine Entertainment Weekly and pretend to read about the Fall T.V. Preview. As I am getting comfortable in my chair I still see from my peripheral that the woman sitting next me keeps glancing over at me. I turn to face her to hint at her that I notice her staring at me. I give her a little smile and nod and she smiled back at me.

Glancing back at my magazine I realized who sat next to me, Bekah, Cora’s little sister �" her everything. Her hair is a darker shade of blonde, her eyes were still a piercing ice blue, when she was standing I still noticed that she was still on the shorter side, I would say about the same height as Cora 5 feet 2 inches. It was late and looked as if Bekah just got out of bed, she was wearing a plain gray t-shirt and a red flannel sweats, with her hair up in a bun.

Whenever Cora spoke about her family it was usually Bekah this, Bekah that, look at how cute she is �" she would show me all these pictures on her phone of her, tell me how she would sleep over with her when she was little. Do not get me wrong Cora spoke a lot about her family members but there was something about Bekah that was special to her, it was as if Cora wanted Bekah to accomplish everything she could not, she wanted her to be better than what she was. I give a quick look at her again, she has matured, I haven’t seen her since that day and she is so much older; I am adding up her age in my head �" 36 years old. That could not be possible, just yesterday Cora and I were visiting her hometown in Minnesota and she was at least 4 four years old, always next to Cora and was not a nervous bone in her body, had such an energetic attitude about everything. Then again, just four hours ago I received the news of Cora lying in her bathroom in her own blood everywhere.

I clench my jaw and I can feel my eyes begin to burn and throat tighten thinking about the sight that would have been. Bekah must have been staring at me and saw I was near tears; she touched my aged hand and tightened the grip. I looked over at her and saw her eyes watering also. She tried to say I’m sorry but the words struggled to come out. She had no reason to apologize, I should have told her sorry, I told Cora that I was going to get through this and nothing will happen to her but look at her now. I failed her, her family, friends, and myself. Bekah lets go of my hand and wipes her eyes and nose and apologizes.

 

   I’m sorry.

   You do not need to apologize.

 

She wipes under her eyes and begins to chuckle a little and says.

 

   I probably look like a mess right now with my make up running.

 

I stay quite because of just how much that comment reminded of Cora, she would complain about how messy her hair is, her makeup, how picky she was with her outfit, the way she would have an anxiety attack if something was not put back in the right place. Bekah begins to speak again and says.

 

   Have the doctors come out and said anything yet?

   No.

   Do you think she will be alright?

   I do.

   Is it natural to be scared?

   Yes �" I am scared.

   Why? You left her; you showed no care for her what so ever in the end.

   I never left her.

 

I can see in the corner of my eyes she was confused by this with her blank stare. I did not know what to say, I wanted to ask if that was what the word was going around but I could care less right now; what mattered was that Cora knew what happened and I did too. Bekah broke the silence.

 

   What is your guys’ story?

   What do you mean?

   I mean, we know how much she cared for you and you say you care for her, what is your story, why do you mean so much    to her and her to you?

   I don’t want to talk about it.

   Why not?

  

I shook my head and looked around the hospital waiting room and see the doctor walk by. I sit up in my chair a little hoping that he is coming for good news. The doctor looked at me and then went to the front desk and grabbed a piece of paper and then walked away. I sink back into my chair.

 

   I just do not like talking about it.

   Cora didn’t either. I feel like you blame yourself for a lot of what has been happening and I feel like if you look back on your life with her it will help you understand.

   I have looked back �" plenty.

   Have you looked back on the good things?

 

I thought about what she said and she was right. I am blaming myself; I have only been looking at the times where we struggled. I cannot recollect the last time I looked back our great moments together where everything felt like it was meant to be. I looked over at Bekah who kept her eyes on me. I ask her.

 

   What do you want to know?

 

She moved in a more comfortable position in her seat and replied.

 

   I want to know everything, from the beginning. I mean we have some time.

 

Everything, I don’t even know where to start, I thought. It has been a long time since I have thought about our past, the times when we first met, times in technical training, our time in Nebraska, I haven’t looked back on any of that in years. I nodded my head and looked at Bekah.

  

   Okay, well, I’ll start with the first time I saw her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[James Lord]

Insanely good writing. Surprised not many people have not read this piece. I feel honored being only the second to review this. Some talent you have Cameron. I was drawn in form start to finish and left me wanting more. The description you have in this piece is astonishing. You better continue this and not leave it on this note. I want to find out what happened between this mans lover and how they met and there life together. PEOPLE NEED TO READ THIS AMAZING! Just a few grammar errors but so good.

[The Lazy Layman]

very interesting! It's a good hook for the reader. I want to keep reading!

Is the lack of quotations intentional? It could be a style thing perhaps? Just wondering :)

[Meraki]

What? That's it? It can't end there it has to keep going. It was so good. There's another part to it right? There's more? I really like this. Aside from the cliffhanger part anyways. I want to read more.