A rough recovery

“ “ Speaks

(‘ ’) Think’s

{ } Sound effects

[ ] Perspective change

> < Time skip

/ / Flashback

[Perspective: Ted Viridis; Location: Infirmary]

{Beep… beep… beep…}

(‘Am I in a hospital?’)

"Doctor! He woke up!"

I heard a soft voice of a woman. After a moment of thought, I realized it was the same voice I had heard when I was knocked down in my classroom.

(‘So I’m in the uni's infirmary, not a hospital.’)

I shifted to the left side of the bed and pushed myself into a sitting position. As I got up, I rubbed my eyes and opened them. The bright light stung my squinting eyes as I tried to look around. In total, there were five people excluding myself. Three nurses (one man and two women), a doctor, and the school president who was lying next to me in another bed fully treated, which surprised me.

(‘Isn’t the medical treatment too good? It wouldn't have hurt if he suffered with broken arms for a bit.’)

"Welcome back to the world, 'Mr. choke his own girlfriend!"

The president said in a calm yet annoying tone, wearing a smug expression. I was angry but not entirely sure what he was talking about, so I asked him.

"Girlfriend? What do you mea-Aw!"

While I was shouting at the president, the male nurse injected something into me with a syringe.

"Hahahaha!! Meaw?! Are you a cat or something?

(‘That son of a …’)

I wanted to get back at the situation, especially the president, so I looked back at him, trying to come up with something to annoy him. Then while observing him I saw that the two female nurses were babying him.

(‘Hi hi. That’s it.’)

I seized the opportunity to taunt the president, attempting to hold back my evil laughter.

"It seems that you have your own harem here, Mr. Student Council President."

I took the chance to throw a smug face back at him, but he didn't seem bothered.

"Yeah, it’s something YOU can only dream of-Aww!"

One of the two female nurses jabbed him with a syringe, clearly irritated.

(‘Hah! Take that, Prez!’)

After the injections, the nurses and the doctor left the infirmary, and as the door closed, the president adopted a more serious demeanour.

"Hey, Ted ... I need to ask you something about * *.

His voice turned serious too. He was a year younger than me, but his voice was as deep as the ocean, gently flowing through your ears and making you WANT to listen to him. He was not just gifted with a deep voice, but he was also an eloquent speaker.

(‘No wonder he became the student council president.’)

I knew in the back of my head that if I engaged in a serious conversation with him, I'd likely fall into his trap. So, instead of answering his question, I tried to sidestep it.

“Glenn … let's not talk about *her*”

Glenn Vistra, now the student council president, had been my friend during my second year of high school. It was a strange case because he had only spent a year at our school before returning to his previous one. While he was there, he was my one and only friend for, for ... 

('What was the reason again?')

Glenn sighed and displayed disappointment. Then he bombarded me with questions while speaking slowly and calmly.

“Can’t you just accept * *? I mean, I understand that you were traumatized by what happened back then, but that was years ago. Why can't you move on? Does it terrify you that much? Do you really have to shut * * out entirely? The problem won't solve itself; you know? If it goes on like this, then …”

The president took a deep breath before he continued his sentence, but before he could say another word, I got furious and my mouth went on autopilot.

“Like you know something about me and *her*! I don’t want this to continue either, but it's easier said than done! I tried too. I tried to hold back for *her*, but I couldn’t … I couldn’t even hold it in myself! So yes, I did lock *her* out! I am trying to forget *her*! But I can’t … I can’t live like this! I can’t!! I-I-I …”

Glenn stood up, came closer and stared me down with his fiery eyes. His red eyes were usually very charming, but when angry, they were like those of the devil. I froze instantly when I encountered his intense gaze.

“Even now, ... You refuse to use her name and refer to * * as *she* or *her*. You’re not just trying to forget *her*, but you’re erasing her! I can’t believe that you would go this far. Ted … you’re an awful person.”

His calm voice sounded threatening. I was still frozen by his eyes, but his voice made me freeze again. No, it's more like I was freezing from the inside out.

“I’m…”

I tried to apologise, but Glenn abruptly left the infirmary.

(‘I’m so … {sigh} so stupid … Please, someone, help me. Get me out of this doomed situation.’)

>20 minutes later<

I felt confused, scared and alone. But in my mind, I only saw a face that caused me pain. I shrugged and buried my face in my hands.

('I’m seriously losing my mind.')

I heard some people in the hallway who stopped to observe the silence in the infirmary, but I didn’t pay them any attention. I tried to calm down by counting the patterns on my blanket and looking out the window, but some traces of sadness lingered in my mind. After about half an hour I decided to leave but then a familiar pattern of footsteps approached the infirmary.

(‘Where do I recognise this from?’)

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted as the infirmary door slammed open and *she* entered.

“Y-y-you are...”

My face turned pale, and I couldn’t speak properly. It was *her*, *the vice student council president*, *the girl who beat the crap out of me and the president* and *the one I fear the most*. I tried to prepare myself to jump out of the window, but my body was paralyzed with fear.

“You were being quite rough to me back there in the classroom. That’s not how you should treat someone who came to save you.”

*She* was dressed in a white lab coat and wore a white mask. *Her* face was covered, but anyone could see the undeniably beautiful face underneath it. Next to it cascaded her long, wavy, silky smooth pink hair. *She* seemed to be smiling, but the mask made it hard to discern *her* expression. *She* stood still and spoke quietly with a rough voice.

“Glenn is right. You can’t live without *me*, and no matter how hard you try, you won't be able to. I won’t allow it. I can’t allow it.”

('Was she listening to my conversation with the president?') is what I wished that I was thinking about, but my mind went blank.

“*I-I…*” (*I…* is not ‘I’ from the pronoun, but the first letter of *her* name and you pronounce it like ’ea’ from sea or breathe.)

I was too scared to talk, too scared to move, and too scared to breathe the same air as *her*. When we were in the classroom, I wasn't fearful, since *she* had her eyes on a different target and because I wasn’t alone, but now... it was just me and *her*.

“Well, I don't want you to be scared of me. I love you after all. So, for now... I'll leave.”

Her voice was as scary and obsessive as it could be. At that moment, I wished it was just a dream. Without hesitation, I looked down, trying to avoid her hollow ruby-like eyes which crept into me like an unending abyss.

“See you, DARLING.”

{Slam!}

The infirmary door slammed shut and *she* left.