The Waiting Room

Skye never had the best life. All she ever wanted was to die, but now she has the choice, is it really that simple?


5. Unsure

The Waiting Room never gets dark. All I want to do is get some sleep, but how am I going to do that with light coming out of absolutely everything?

I really need to clear my head. My earlier conclusion is getting weaker as I start rethinking everything. If this was a dream I wouldn't be able to feel anything, but as I'm lying in my bed I can feel the soft bed sheets beneath me and the white robe I have worn since I got here encase me. If this was just a dream, I'd have been woken up by now as Bryan doesn't like me sleeping for more than a couple of a day. No, this must be real. To hell with science.

But that means G isn't a figment of my imagination. I was so rude to him earlier, when he was just trying to help me. I need to apologise, but since he left me in the rec room I haven't seen him. He must be really angry with me. And I don't blame him.

"G," I whisper as a silent tear rolls down my cheek, "I'm sorry."

The single tear turns into a flood within a minute and for the first time that I can remember I am crying. But this time I'm not bruised or scared or even physically hurt. My mind has hurt me. My ignorant, selfish ways have hurt me and it just makes me even more certain that I deserve to go to hell.

Slowly, the door in the corner of the room opens and G steps in. I don't want him to see me like this so I turn over and face the opposite wall.I can feel him standing behind me.

"Skye, it's me," he says, his voice still friendly and warm, "I know you didn't mean it. Come on, Skye, look at me."

He sits on the edge of my bed as I turn over. For the first time I notice his face. It's warm and open with laughter lines and knowing eyes. He doesn't look like he should be dead. His skin is tanned and he has dark hair and eyes that remind me of my dad.

"I didn't mean to laugh in your face," I manage to get out, but I'm stumbling over the simplest word of all, "S...s...sorry."

"You don't need to apologise to me. I know you've been hurt a lot, but I'm not going to hurt you like everyone else," He stands up and walks over to the chair he sat in earlier, "What do you want to do now? We need to cheer you up."

"I just want to go to sleep," I say, "But I can't with all of this light constantly shining."

"I can put you to sleep, if you want," he walks back over, "Put it'll mean touching you. You OK with that?"

I'm not completely sure if I am, but I nod anyway and within a second of his fingers touching my forehead everything goes dark. Just like the first time.

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