Prompt 5-Not So Different

Written for a contest. Trigger warning for mentions of abuse and hospitals.

"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar." -Thich Nhat Hanh

Mikey stared at the quote printed on the wall. It was written in curling black script against the aqua paint of the wall, the name a smaller print underneath. It was ironic, she thought, that a quote such as this would be on the wall of a hospital waiting room.

What did it mean, anyway, that people “preferred” familiar pain? In her limited experience, no one preferred any sort of pain, no matter how familiar it may be. It took a sick person to like pain �" possibly a deranged one. But perhaps that wasn't what it meant at all. It could be referring to the fact that people would rather take what was familiar to them over the unknown. “The devil you know,” and all.

The door leading from the waiting room to the parking lot clicked open and a young man strode inside, followed by a tiny-looking girl in green. As they came inside, the rain came with them, blowing up the girl's skirt despite her attempts to hold it down. There were purplish-blue-black bruises up and down her legs and, as Mikey saw, the lower part of her thin arms. The door swung shut again and the girl fixed her skirt quickly with one hand. As she straightened, her eyes happened to catch Mikey's, and she looked down, her thin face turning bright red before the man grabbed her elbow forcefully and hauled her over to the reception desk.

Mikey watched them as the man discussed something with the receptionist, his voice low but tense. The girl stood next to him and a little behind, her eyes on the ground. Mikey saw that she was holding her left wrist awkwardly, like it was paining her. The receptionist leaned over the desk, holding out a hand, and the girl reluctantly placed her left hand in the woman's. The man watched the girl, his gaze hard and his fists clenched. When the girl looked up at him following a query from the receptionist, she immediately looked down again, making a face like she had been struck.

Mikey looked back at the quote again, then at the pair who were now sitting down in the waiting area. Yes, she decided, sometimes people did choose pain simply because they knew nothing else.

After all, it wasn't all that different for herself. Why else would she still be here, in this hospital, when she knew she wasn't wanted or needed. She hadn't talked to Loren in years, after all.

They had once been close. As children they'd lived close to each other, in matching farmhouses far outside town. Thus, they were best friends. They spent every waking moment together, and declared they'd be best friends forever, as children do. When they were teenagers, things changed. Not in a bad way, of course. Nothing connected to Loren could ever be bad in Mikey's adolescent mind. At the time, she had thought she was in love with him. She didn't realize until later the truth.

Both children had been home-schooled by their mothers up until that point, and they were far enough outside of town that they had little contact with children their age that weren't each other or cousins. They didn't know anyone else. It seemed natural to them to begin a romantic relationship once they reached their teen years. Their parents approved, they got along well, it was all perfect.

Perfect is an illusion.

Mikey knew that fact better than anyone.

There was no such thing as perfect. The perfect marriage, the perfect job, the perfect children, none of them existed. How could anything be perfect in such an imperfect, awful, heartless world? Some would call Mikey a pessimist. She called herself a realist. There was no point in reaching for perfection, after all, when perfection did not exist.

Things had ended badly with Loren. That was easy enough to see. And it would be a lie to say that there were no hard feelings �" both parties refused to speak to each other for years.

Until now.

To tell the truth, Mikey wasn't even sure why Loren was in the hospital. His sister Gwen had called her in tears, barely able to speak through her sobs. Once Mikey had gotten her to calm down enough to speak, she'd said all that Mikey now knew: Loren was in the hospital and none of the family could make it; could Mikey please go? Against her better judgment, Mikey went.

And now she sat in an aqua waiting room with a dozen strangers, staring a quote on the wall.

She glanced over at the girl in green, watched her as she cowered in her seat next to her own version of Loren. More violent, perhaps, but no less toxic. Now that she could see better, Mikey saw the girl was shaking, vibrating in her seat. Mikey wanted to get up, take the girl's arm, and pull her away from the man, but common sense held her in her seat.

In a way, Mikey was just like the girl in green. She'd told herself that she would never speak to Loren, or even think about him, again, yet here she was, waiting to see if he was okay. She told herself she hated him, but there was still the stab of pain and worry in her chest when Gwen called. She told herself she hated him. But she wanted him to be all right.

Mikey liked to think she wasn't like the girl. She liked to think that she was smarter. Smart enough to get away, at least. Smart enough to see that the situation wasn't getting any better. Smart enough to find a way out. But in reality, they were exactly the same. Mikey had gotten away, yes. But had she let go? Not at all.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this.