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5- I want to cry

I want to cry like a wretch when I realize that my body is once again lying on a disgusting hospital stretcher. I feel a stabbing pain in my arm, and only then do I notice that a needle is pricking my wrist to give me fluids. To complete this macabre spectacle: I feel pain in the upper area of my head. I bring my free hand to that spot, and truthfully, when I touch the fabric of a bandage, what I most desire is to rip it off and escape. I shouldn't be here.

"Eron?" asks a sleepy female voice. Her dark pupils observe me with something I interpret as relief.

Why would someone feel relieved to see someone like me in their senses? Perhaps it's because they can finally leave, feeling free of guilt.

I try to open my mouth to say something to that girl, but it's not my voice that escapes, but that of an unknown third person.

"Is Eron Montjoy of legal age?" asks the intruding person. I think it's the doctor.

"He is twenty-three years old, Doctor," says the girl.

I barely realize that she's the nosy girl from the bus. It doesn't matter now though, I can't blame her for anything. I don't have the strength to say anything. I feel like a fucking useless person lying here.

"Does the young man have his identification?"

I hope my bag is here. After scanning the room with my eyes and locating it, I point to where it's lying to the meddler.

In another situation, I would have told the doctor to stick his formality somewhere else, but now I don't have the energy to dive into more garbage. That's why, and only why, I'm not screaming for them to get me out of this shit.

But how much I wish…

The person in the gown leaves the room, leaving the girl and me alone after verifying my information. In the end, I let my eyelids fall, enjoying the silence that takes over the small room. The girl says something after a few seconds, capturing my attention.

"I… love Faven," she murmurs.

"Premature infatuation?"

"No!" she exclaims, while I let out a grunt. "No," she lowers her voice. "I also love him as my only and best friend."

"Also?"

"Don't act tough," she scolds. I open my eyes and find the white ceiling above me. "He always mentioned you in every conversation. There was a strange phrase he always repeated with different words, but the meaning remained the same: Eron always appears lazy, but the truth is that a lot of energy and words are stored inside him. He's a good person. Many appreciate him."

"No…"

"He's a good friend," she says as her gaze focuses on me. "If people knew him, they wouldn't let a raw diamond like him go to waste."

"That brat," I raise my uninjured arm to my face and hold back a sob. "Always seeing the good where there isn't any," the last part sounds broken.

I can't… I can't cry.

"That's why I wanted to know if you're okay, Eron," she now looks at the floor. "He always worried about you."

"Don't say the word in the past tense, please," I beg, overwhelmed.

She surprises me by taking my arm and moving it aside before bringing her other hand to my cheek, using her thumb to wipe away the tear that escaped without my permission. She leaves a caress in my hair, very close to the bandage around my skull, and looks at me as if I were made of glass.

Then she steps away, takes a seat next to me, and turns. Now she has her back to me. The gesture, instead of bothering me, brings back memories that become twisted and flow so fast that they burn; They consume me and tear me apart.

"Do you know who I am now?"

"Dakota Laurent," my voice keeps sounding choked. "I am not… I was Faven's only beloved. Could you tell me what prompted you to talk to me just now?"

Ironically.

I wanted to tell her that I didn't know her. I could do that and shatter her illusions, but it's Faven, my best friend, we're talking about. Besides, I'm the one lying on a damn stretcher and she's the only person by my side.

August 18th.

World I.

Dakota laughs, but without emotion.

-So you will know why my round of questions.

-You seemed like a stalker.

-This will sound terrible, but I usually am with those who matter to me.

-Do you want me to be honest? -I inquire, and continue looking at the ceiling.- I don't know how this ended up like this.

-I suppose you're referring to the direction of our conversation -She doesn't show any emotion on her face.- I truly hoped you would know something more. I'm very desperate. People talk too much just for the sake of it. They repeat and repeat what they hear without stopping to think about…

-Like you? -I inquire.

-Thinking about how toxic they are -She ignores my question.- Now I feel like I'm part of a horrible nightmare, Eron Montjoy. You will know very well that he was a ray of light for me. I told Faven more than once that I trusted you if he did. He, despite being naive, was not capable of trusting someone he shouldn't.

-During that time, I confronted him because I didn't want him to tell me about your life -I take a deep breath after speaking to her, my voice sounding unstable.- It became the first and last fight we had.

For which I desperately want to apologize to him.

"—He told me. It was surprising the amount of words he could spit out per minute," she mentions, and I catch a half-smile out of the corner of my eye. "He apologized, didn't he?"

"He did."

But it should have been the other way around.

"I can't believe he's not here anymore," I blur out. Discomfort engulfs me as soon as I hear her sob.

"I don't want to believe it," I say instead.

I don't know what to add. It's hard for me to console people when they cry. What am I supposed to do? Offer words of encouragement? A pat on the back? Tell her to be quiet?

How do you cheer someone up in your own situation?

I admit it surprises me to see her cry as if she hadn't done so all this time, and maybe that's the case.

Still unsure, I extend my unattached arm and place my hand on her back. Then I begin to circle it in an attempt to comfort her, and maybe lift her spirits.

I hear her sob even more, and reflex forces me to withdraw my hand. I guess I made a mistake.

"No, please," her broken voice addresses me. "It's… fine."

So, closing my eyes, I go back to what I was doing before. I suppress another batch of tears behind my eyelids. Well, reality has shown me that I haven't been the only one ignored, and that others, perhaps, need me as much as I need them.

Hearing her murmur the name Faven Hope leads me to release my own weeping."

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