trust is a relative term

part sixteen

2/16/18

9:09 PM

Ebbott Hospital, West Wing, room 903

In the dimly lit hospital room, a girl lies in the bed. Her long dark hair is splayed out on the white pillows she is propped up on. Her face is turned to the window, where the stars are beginning to come out.

You stand in the doorway and clear your throat. You hate this; hate feeling so broken, so helpless. "Mia? It's... it's Evan."

The girl doesn't move; doesn't make any indication she's heard. You take a step forward. "Mystery girl... if you trust me, please- turn around so I can see your face."

The girl speaks without turning. Her voice is barely more than a whisper. "Trust is a relative term, Evan. Don't you know that by now?"

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. The girl turns to look you in the face, sadness welling in her single eye. You stare into her scarred face and have nothing to say.

"Do you understand now?" she whispers. "Do you understand why I had to be the 'mystery girl'?" Her eye flames with hot anger. "Do you understand why I was too scared to show my face? Do you understand why I was too scared to trust you?"

You try to speak again but she cuts you off. "Look at me. Look me in the eye. My photography is meaningless nonsense, Evan. I don't know why I didn't realize that before. There's nothing beautiful about ugliness. Nothing at all."

You look at her, and so many things flare up inside of you, all of them too raw to be formed into words, and all you can think is that she has the most beautiful eye you've ever seen. But somehow you know that nothing you say can make her understand.

Eventually, you swallow again and say, "Do you remember when you asked me if I took photos to please other people?"

She watches you warily, in silence.

"I didn't know what to say. You seemed so disappointed, and it made me question something about myself I hadn't even really seen before." You run a hand through your hair, making it stand up even more than before. "You told me to take pictures of whatever I thought was cool. And you, you took pictures of things society saw as ugly, because you wanted to show the world they could be beautiful. Well, I think I finally get it."

Tears begin to trickle down the girl's pale face. Her hands tremble, and her breath rasps in her chest. "You have to forget about me, Evan," she whispers. "Please, just forget you ever knew me. You have your whole life ahead of you. Please, for my sake- don't waste it."

You stare at her, the girl lying in the bed. She is barely more than a stranger really. So why does this hurt so much?

You shake your head. "I won't forget, mystery girl. I'll remember everything. I'll remember how you wanted to be an astronomer. I'll remember your beautiful pictures. I'll remember how you taught me not to be afraid of being judged."

Her thin body shakes with coughs, and you feel your chest start to fill with desperation, heavy and cold like water. "Do you trust me?" she rasps.

"Yes," you say without a moment of hesitation.

A ghost of something like a smile flicks across her face. "Then stay here, and let's watch the stars."

~the end~