Evangeline reminded me of what it felt like to lose my mother when she was rolled on a stretcher to the hospital room. It was agonizing; she made me reveal my emotions and I was tired of fighting the sorrow. Waiting outside while the nurses do their job was the torture I had to endure, I couldn't even fucking get comfortable sitting on their hard rock chairs so I kept pacing.


"Young man, is your girlfriend going to be okay?” the old woman asked with apprehension imprinted on her face. The mere thought of Evangeline irked me because I didn't want to feel that way towards her. I had been trying my best to get away from her yet here I was, waiting for her to get better. I wanted not to care and just go back to the disruptive father and his prostitutes but I couldn't get my feet to go along the path of the hospital entrance. I wanted to make sure she was better.


"She's not my girlfriend,” I amended. It was the truth; we were never going to be together because we were from different worlds, hers was promising and mine was shattered. It was almost like a beautiful contrast of how incompatible our lives were, "She's going to be alright.” I continued with a strained voice.


The woman's blue eyes caught my hidden tied lie but didn't say anything, she gave me a pat on the shoulder and went back to sit in her wheelchair. I was still standing, watching the old woman adjust herself on the wheelchair.


"Don't strain yourself in the dark, accept the light." She said when she moved her automatic wheelchair to the room across Evangeline's. I didn't know what she meant by accepting the light but I knew that I was forever drowning in darkness and that was something I couldn't control.


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