Survival Of The Fittest [ON HOLD]

Chapter Three: The Dreams

CHAPTER THREE

Your point of view.

I blink open my eyes in the white room again. I was so tired from Christmas. Today would be Boxing Day back home. I look around.   

Alone.

I sigh and sit up. My wheelchair is exactly where Louis left it last night. I transfer myself to it and push myself to the bathroom. I am so stiff and sore. I moved around too much yesterday and strained a bunch muscles that weren't used in over a month. I was and am a bit rusty. Maybe if I start moving around more regularly I'll get a bit better.

I do my business and get back to my hospital bed. Since I am not wearing my sweater, I see that some of the less healed cuts have opened up again with all of the effort of pushing the wheelchair. I see there is already blood on my sheets from sleeping in them, so I press my arms to them.

I honestly don't care right now. The only reason I'm not just watching the liquid keeping me alive seep away is because Louis wouldn't want me to. He wants me to stay alive and care about myself. So I will. I had made him put up his sweater on the mirror in the bathroom because I don't want to see myself. I know it will help me feel more confident if I don't see how ugly I am.

I try to get comfortable in the stiff bed. It's harder than it looks. I am really hungry despite the giant dinner I had last night. I feel my stomach growl and cringe at the cramp it brings. I sigh. They should really just feed me real food in this stupid hospital. It's not fair how most of the food they bring isn't even vegetarian. I had told them to bring me vegetarian food, but they don't even follow that simple request all the time. When they do, it is disgusting.

I reach over to my bed side table for the new iPhone Louis gave me. I have entertainment, at least. I play tic-tac-toe with the computer. Surprisingly, I won the first round. I hear a knock at the door and a voice. "Hey, Tianna. Are you awake?"

"Just a sec, Zayn," I say and pull my hat on over the bandages. I want to look at least slightly decent. "Kay," I answer as I put my iPhone into sleep mode.

He opens the door with a smile and shuts it quietly behind him. "You didn't have to get all dolled up to impress me," he gestures to my Spongebob hat. I blush as he sits in the chair beside me.

"Sorry." Force of habit.

"Don't apologize. Anyways, I brought you breakfast," he sets the container on my lap. I click the lid off to see pancakes with some syrup in a small container in the corner. A fork is lying beside the pile of still-warm, golden pancakes.

"Thanks. They look really good. Who made them?" I pour the sticky syrup over the thick, perfect pancakes.

"I did," he looks sheepish as I take a bite.

"Really?" I ask him with my mouth full.

"Yeah. Are they that bad?" He asks, glancing to them on my lap.

 "No. They're that good," I smile with my lips together.

"Thanks," he flashes that supermodel smile.

"No. Thank you. I thought I was going to starve in this joint," I give him another smile.

His eyes wander over me and find the blood on the blankets. "You're bleeding," he looks at me concernedly.

"Tell me something I don't know," I say with my mouth half full.

"You're supposed to care about yourself. It doesn't really sound like you do," he scolds, the concern never leaving his face.

I blush. "I do. I can only focus on one thing at a time. Right now I'll focus on my stomach. Before, I focused on my bladder. Next, maybe I'll focus on my cuts," I reason.