章節 14: Chapter 13- His Inward Turmoil
Present day
Doctor Harrison's Point of View;
"Well Presley I can say that you really did a lot to help your new friends," I said looking up from my files at him.
He nodded to what I said before asking,"Can I get you a bottle of water."
I was thirsty at that point from all of that audible reading and I had already reached into my bag for my canteen.
"That's alright I've got one," I showed him as I took it out. I saw him pull out from under his bed a cooler and took out a cold bottle of water. I partly saw the bandages from under his sleeve as he did that action.
"From the explosion, was it just your arms hurt," I asked after drinking a mouthful of water.
"They replaced the bandages in the hospital before they sent me here. I have to get it changed again tomorrow," he said not directly answering the question again. He tried to turn the bottle cap but as hands were visible shaking and he couldn't seem to get a good grip on it. I'd seen this many times before in my anxiety patients.
"I see; the reason I asked is because you were unconscious when you came into the medical ward so the doctors had to get a timeline to know what they were dealing with. The interview with your friends help them narrow the timeline of when you were last there and why. Let me open that for you," I said after taking another mouthful of water.
"Was that all you found?" He asked under his breath as he handed me the bottle. If the room wasn't deathly quiet you would have missed what he said. I knew that simple question was him trying to see just what more I knew about him.
"Only what your friends described to me. Mitchum didn't hear what you said to Gail but you remember what you talked to her about. Does anything else of what I read sound familiar?" I said truthful giving him back the water. His hands still shaking brushed slightly against mine and it was freezing. Was this conversation alone stressing him out.
The only conversations we've ever had was when he woke up in th ICU. He sat back after drinking water and I saw him raise his head to look at me for the first time. I was going to call it off for the day but he spoke first.
"I remember how Gail saw the way I bother Mitchum." He continued, "No matter how hard I try, he's always around for the worst of me."
That was probably the most he ever said to me in one go. His head sunk in an almost defeated manner.
I knew that was Presley's own feeling of himself that he was deflecting onto Mitchum. But I was finally getting him to say something that wasn't just agreeing with me.
"Why do you say that?" He shifted on the bed at my question and looked at the bottle water in his hand.
"He's the normal one of the two of us but he still bought my stuff from the school, here. Even worse is that he visits, if I had to end up here I would have preferred to do it without him. Now he's the guy with the crazy roommate. I never wanted him involved in this. I always make it hard for him by just being around."
What he was expressing wasn't out of the ordinary; in fact it was a symptom.
"Can you tell me in what ways have you think you have made it hard for him?" I asked hoping it would get him to talk now.
He passed his hand through his hair and folded his arms as if it was an effort for him to comfort himself before he answered. "It was after the argument Gail heard before we shut the door."
(Timelapse three days after helping Homer)
Presley's Point Of View;
Since that small dispute with Mitchum, I haven't apologized for my overreaction. It's just that the fact of knowing him saying I'm unusual got to me a lot. I know it's petty of me but still, I don't tell people he's untidy but I probably should get over it now. I hate that I let myself be so sensitive to remarks like that. These things shouldn't bother me so much, I mean my dad calls me that most of the time anyway. Especially when he's comparing me to my mom. If we were really that alike she wouldn't have left me behind.
It doesn't really matter anyway cause I don't remember her and I doubt she spends time thinking about me. This is my reality whether I like it or not. I have to make myself focus on things that are right in front of me. Like, the fact that it's been 3 days and I have to go to the clinic to renew the bandages next Monday. They told me that it will at least be 3 more weeks before it can be taken off of my forearms and ribcage. I would have had bandages on my face and chest if I hadn't blocked myself. But I've developed the good habit of blocking that part of me over the years. If you get bruises there you attract more attention than anywhere else.
The doctor told me that I should not put any pressure on the wounds on my arms other than the bandages. But most of my shirts have long sleeves. So I've been covering it so as to not attract any more unwanted attention from professors. That one interaction Monday night was enough. Plus walking the streets of HIDCA like that will make you easier prey. Speaking of which, I'm really thankful to Gail for her cousin's help. He was able to send it through a pharmacy around the corner yesterday. She even went and got it for me because the idea of going all the way over there was tiring. I gave her the written prescription and she was able to get the medication. That eased the pain a lot and I can at least go to class without having to stop just to catch my breath. It was getting to the point where I had to hold my breath whenever I did anything because even breathing was painful.
I've gotten into situations where I had to cover up injuries before but never to this degree. I just wasn't expecting that explosion. But I'll survive, I always do. I must have woken up before Mitchum this morning again. I'm not hearing any noise at all outside of my room. As a peace offering, I can get started on breakfast. But I'm not waking him up, I don't want to do anything more to be called unusual. I only have evening classes today so I might as well make the most of it since I can't get back to sleep.
Too bad the doc didn't prescribe something to sleep also. But that's because they think it's just the pain of the injury that will keep me up. I can already tell that the rest of this term is going to be exhausting. I can feel my chest tightening at the thought of it. But at least I did one good deed worth remembering since I got to help out Gail and Homer. Now I just want to lay low for the rest of the term. I don't want to be a burden to anyone while I'm here.
Thinking of this injury I hope they went easy on Professor Smith. His actions reminded me of myself. It was the reason why I didn't tell anyone what Gail had done. I know what it's like to want to go to extreme measures just to get out of something that was forced upon you by your family. It can drive you insane just trying to keep it together. But I never had the guts to do anything except wallow in despair silently. Maybe Mitchum can sense that and thinks I'm unusual because of it. Why he still hangs around me or even considers me a friend; I'll never know. No one really would want to have me around unless it benefits them in some way. Maybe now that Gail helped me back she would tell herself that we're even.
And that's ok, she did something good for me nonetheless. My dad only put up with me because our relatives felt sorry for me. I barely ever saw any of them throughout my life but I couldn't blame them. They would only decide to make an appearance and overlook my dad's checkered past with him to help us out financially to ease their conscience. I never did get to use a penny of that money. He took it and did God only knew what. The only reason I'm here is because my grandmother put a college fund for me and didn't tell me until I actually graduated. It was a surprise from her. She told me when we went out for lunch shortly after telling her about getting an acceptance letter into this school. I was really considering turning it down because there was no way I could afford it. I honestly thought I would have been taking care of her in her final days. But she didn't want me to do that and now I'm alone again.
I got off my bed and sat upright with my feet resting on the pale blue wool carpet. I had gotten this from my grandmother also. She even gave me the curtains. They were light mint green and matched the bed sheets that I was making up. The bed is queen size and while I was fluffing the pillow I realized that I hadn't had the energy to do it since I first came here. I spend most of my time here, so I should at least try harder to maintain it. Maybe I can repaint the walls with a color other than white. The way how she made me pack all of this stuff seemed like she knew we were never going to see each other again. I wouldn't be able to go back home for the funeral over the weekend on my own. I can't afford the plane ticket and my dad isn't picking up any of my calls.
I only knew she died when the lawyer called and told me. He's making arrangements for me to come. I wanted to stay away as it would probably be safer because if my dad's there he might probably bury me in the coffin with her. But the lawyer insisted that I come as it was a condition in her will because I had to make some of the final decisions on it. Why did she leave me with that responsibility? The other family members were of a higher class than I was.
With that thought, I went to my bathroom to do my normal morning routine. I wore a grey long-sleeved turtle neck and black cargo pants along with brown sneakers. Then I left the room to go to the kitchen to make breakfast. As I did that I also multitasked doing normal chores around the apartment. I dusted, wiped down the counters, swept, and then mopped in that order. Guess I could get a lot more done without feeling like I would pass out from the rib-crushing pain.
My dad use to make me do all of this whenever Grandmother came to visit us. When I finished that I started studying and it was about that time I heard Mitchum now stumbling sleepily into the living room where I was. I resisted the urge to rearrange the furniture to clean under it again. My dad use to be so strict on that when he made me do it. He would check under it and then freak out and start throwing or breaking anything in sight. It was the worst if it happened in the kitchen. It had knives there and when he threw those even if you duck, you were not safe. It was best to go into my room and lock the door until he calmed down. But moving the furniture would have definitely woken Mitchum earlier than he wanted. I have to be more mindful of him.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," I said without looking up from my book.
"You were the one making all of that noise out here earlier. What are you even doing up? You don't have any classes this morning," He said yawning afterward.
So he still heard me out here? I momentarily looked up at him and saw he was still in his pajamas standing at the entrance to the living room. "Well no, I just thought I'd get a head start on the cleaning but I kept my promise of not vacuuming in your room when you're in it and not shifting around the furniture. I also made breakfast."
"Um thanks, I'm glad that you were able to hold back doing that because it really was beginning to annoy me." Mitchum gave me a questioning look and then chuckled in response.
Why do I always end up being a pest around people who are closest to me? I look back down at my book to at least pretend to read and said softly to myself, "It wasn't that bad."
Mitchum still heard me and must have thought I was talking to him. "You're right the vacuum I could take; it's when you tried to make my bed when I was still lying in it that drove me nuts. Hey, what time is it?"
I told him that the time is 8:30 am and he seem to really wake up."OH MY GOSH!!! I have a class in the next half an hour."
He ran back into his room and I heard the door close. As Mitchum was rushing to get ready I just put the breakfast I made near his bag so that he'd see and take it with him. It's the least I can do for being such a problem to him. Then I went back to studying. It must have been 15 minutes before he rushed back out of his room fully dressed. He wore a white T-shirt with two blue lines going across it horizontally. Then continuing at his hurried pace he grabbed his bag and the breakfast I left for him to find. As he walked out the door he said loud enough for me to hear, "Thanks Presley, later!"
I waved him off without saying anything verbally and continued to study. It was the only thing I knew how to do right. After 2 hours of that, I took a music break by putting on my headphones. That way I can rest my mind but still stay distracted from my thoughts. I use to be able to go for 5-hour long self-study sessions. But I can feel that my concentration these days is very limited. How on earth could someone like me hold down an eight-hour job if I can't make it just two without feeling so tired? The fact that I'm not an early bird but still get up early isn't helping much. But I can't do anything about it cause I'm at that stage when I can't sleep again.
If the change of scenery, people, and schedule here doesn't help me then what can? Will I have to continue going through this forever? I'm really tired of it, no I'm tired of going through it. Whenever I felt myself feeling this bad I'd call my Grandmom. I didn't go into details about it but just talking to her made me feel understood. She had always been like a light in helping me through this life. But I'm older now and I have to learn to deal with stuff on my own.
She already had so much on her plate in dealing with all her hospital bills, cause she was getting even sicker. On my last visit, she tried to hide it from me but I saw all the prescriptions on the counter already. I didn't even stay long cause I didn't want to be a burden to her too. UGH! Dad was right about me; I'm too needy.
-- 收到的禮物 
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票