I lie stiffly upon the rugged hospital bed, I hate hospitals with a burning passion.

Around me, I can hear the heart monitor beeping with with each pulse.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I can hear my mother's sobs, harmonizing with each beep.

Beep. Sob. Beep. Sniffle. Beep.

I inhale deeply, the other people chattering and living around me act as the white noise, bringing the hospital beat together.

Beep, sniffle, chatter.
Beep, sob, click.
Beep, sniffle, chatter.
Beep, sob, step.

The air smells stale and the windows don't open - I've tried many times. They won't let me leave either, at least not on my own.

I feel my mother's hand wrap around mine and she holds it to her cold cheek, her tears run along my fingers before leaping to the bed.

The clickity clack of the doctor's shiny brown dress shoes echo nearby, growing louder as they draw nearer.

The door creaks as it opens wide, my mother removes my hand from her cheek as she rises, I feel her whimsical blouse brush against my damp hand.

"I-is she going to be okay?" My mother's voice shakes with hesitation, broken from crying.

"She is, you're lucky you got here in time. It was only a little bruise, with a few pills a day, it should be gone within a couple of weeks." The doctor's fake cheery voice sounds, reassuring my mother from her worries.

Great. More pills. I roll my eyes with such enthusiasm it hurts - note the sarcasm.

"Oh thank goodness." My mother clasps my hand between her hands, holding it up to her chin. Her soft lips press gently upon my knuckles as she kisses my hand. "So she can come home today?"

"Yes." A slight chuckle sounds from his voice, his lips crackle as they part and curl. "Would you like the nurse to come grab you a chair?" His voice squeaks a bit as he questions, a chilly breeze brushes against my nude arm as he turns and points to the nurses' station in the hallway.

"I don't-" my voice cracks softly before my mother interferes.

"Yes. That would be lovely." My mother's voice rings with joy and pleasure, her hands bobbing mine around in her happiness.

"I'll go get you one now." The doctor's fancy shoes squeak against the tile floor as he spins, his footsteps echo through the room before dimming as he retreats farther down the hallway.

"Isn't it wonderful? The people here are just great." My mother's voice chimes with pleasurely joy.

"Yeah. So... great." A sarcastic remark rolls from my monotone comment as I lean my head back and my eyes gaze up at the ceiling that's probably there.

"You know, you could act a bit more grateful for those who saved your life." My mother scowls, dropping my hand and crossing her arms instead.

"Ouch." I sarcastically mumble as my hand hits the cold plastic side of the hospital bed, it didn't really hurt.

"I'm not sorry," she humphs, "you deserved that." I inhale deeply before exhaling the air rather dramatically.

"Thank you, I feel so loved." Not. I turn my head to the doorway as a high pitch squeak screeches closer. Great...it squeaks.

"Here we are," the doctor's voice calls out, sounding as though he's trying hard to keep up his false persona. "Only the best for our special patients."

Geez... I'm so honoured. Not. I sigh so rather uninterestedly, my mother and doctor must have given each other that look. The one where they suspect that they'll probably have to force me into the wretched chair of embarrassment.

"Would you like to try it out, miss Lawson?" The wheels squeak with annoyance as the doctor rolls it closer to the bed, he speaks to me as though I were a small child at the hospital for the first time.

"Do I have a choice?" I move my head upwards towards the sound of his voice.

"Well-"

"I mean, you're probably going to try to force me into it anyways, so I might as well do it now before you get Mr. Pointy." I cut the doctor off, making air quotes around 'Mr. Pointy'.

"Would you like help getting out of the bed dear?" My mother leans in close to me, the smell of her lavender perfume hits my nose and I sneeze.

"No. I can do it." I raise my hand and then bring it back down to help push myself into an upright sitting position. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my right foot hits a metal arm of the chair and sends a light sensation of pain through my foot. It didn't hurt, but I know my mother probably winced at the hit. The wheels squeaked a bit after my foot hit it. I loosly dangle my legs over the side of the bed and sigh, I feel like an Olympic skier just before they push off, all eyes glued to them and all breaths held till they push off.

I'm pretty sure my mother and the doctor were staring at me, holding their breaths waiting for me to push off and glide to the chair.

I press my hands into the corner edge of the bed and push my butt off, I feel myself briefly falling before my bare feet hit the cold tile floor. I straighten my body up before taking a step forward.

"The chair is at your 2 o'clock." My mother directs me and I smile a little, that's about the only thing I like about my mother when she's babying me.

"Thank you." I respond with a sincere tone, "but I don't really need it, I can walk just fine."

"It's only a precaution. We do it for all our patients." The doctor's shoes schreech as he takes a step towards me.

"Even the seeing ones?" My tone returns to it's monotone and salt-filled state.

"Well no," the doctor chuckles as though I made a silly joke, "they're not-"

"Blind?" I sass, "have you ever considered that maybe you're the ones that are blind?" I snarl. probably louder than I should have. I could feel the gaze of others staring down upon me. For how could I, a blind, accuse the seeing of being something so horrid as being unable to see.

"Heh." My mother laughs, shrugging my comment off so easily, "you're silly. You're just tired from all that you've been through today, just take a seat in the wheelchair and we'll go home now."

The doctor doesn't make a comment, I can hear his breathing still, almost as though my comment froze him stiff.

"I am tired. I am sick and tired of everyone treating me like I'm nothing. I am more than that, and I won't let you think anything less just because I'm blind." I cross my arms and sit my butt down into the chair. The leather seat creaks as my body weighs upon it.

"Brenna, that's enough." My mother's voice demands with an echo of irritation.

"Is it though?" I tilt my head toward's my mother's last known location - on the other side of the hospital bed. "I don't think there's any amount of words I can say that will finally be enough, enough to finally make you see what I see."

"I said that's enough." My mother's heels click angrily upon the tiles as she storms over to me, her hand smacks against my cheek roughly and a stinging sensation soon follows. "We're going home now and you will be grounded for another week."

Just fucking great.

Her heels clack as she moves to wheel me away and I flinch. I want to fight it, to resist it, to keep yelling. But I know everyone's probably still watching us, the doctor is still standing frozen just a few feet away, and my mother is steaming behind me. So, I give in and let her wheel me out, as though I were as pathetic as they thought I looked.

At least they forgot to give us the pills.