Forbidden Love
Little Things. (46th Chapter)
…The Next Day (At the Hospital)...
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Evelyn's POV:
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I know that it feels like my veins are going to explode, but I must push harder on the metal bar. I press both of my palms on the horizontal pole, as I begin to lift myself up. “Evelyn, please tell me if you need assistance. Its definitely okay, I don’t want you to exhaust your strength. (He jokes to lighten up the mood) This is therapy, not self torture.” I nod at his funny words, but it sounded real to me to be honest.
I am being self-tortured, and I kind of accept it by now, because this is how my life became. If I don’t pressure myself to stand up on my feet, I will be a give up; a crippled young lady for the rest of my life. Young? What does that word even mean? Is youth important only for how a person looks like, or does it also count on the internal feeling?
The reason why I ask myself this question, is because I, myself, am stuck in an untitled frame. I am young from the outside, but from the inside it feels like it has been ages and decades already. The only thing that made me feel young on both majors, is when my heart used to pump faster; at a single touch from Harry.
I still blame myself for this, because he didn’t do anything wrong. He loved me for me, and he respected me for who I am; and not for what I was portraying in front of the social elites. The sweat begins to form on my forehead, as I begin to balance myself on the pole; but that didn’t last for long.
My feet have never felt weaker or numb, like they are right now; they begin to shake in a speedy movement. Before I could fall on the ground, the nurse and the doctor had their arms around me to stop the disturbing tumble. “(He soothes) Evelyn, you are becoming stronger day by day. I guarantee you that you will rise up again; its only a matter of time until your emotional level is stabilised. Are you still taking the daily medications for your nerves? (I nod slowly, as he and the nurse place me back on the wheel chair) Very good, Evelyn. I’ll leave you with nurse Linda for a message therapy, and then she’ll escort you to my office so I can give you my report, alright?” I smile thinly, but not because I am happy; I just feel grateful for the patience that my doctor is granting me. “Thank you, for everything.”
…At Night (At the Rider’s Residence)…
"(She smiles widely) See, honey? I knew you were making progress. I really am so happy that your percentage has increased five percent more than it was. Which means, that you have a forty-five percent now, its close to a fifty, darling.” I nod, staring at my mother’s wide smile. She really is a cheer when you need someone in your darkest times; and I also feel that our bond is stronger than ever now. I guess my disability has both good and bad effects.
“Mother, I want you to do something for me, please.” She bobs her head, placing her palm over mine. “Anything, tell me.” I lift my free hand, to place the straightened strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to pick out a dress for me, you know for the cocktail party this Saturday?” She furrows her eyebrows, but her smile is still present.
“No, I won’t do that this time. I have been taking control of your presentation and lifestyle for so long, darling. (She rubs my hand in her hold) I trust you choice, and I want you to be able to pick out something on your own, for once. All I’ll do is assist you in your final presentation. Deal?” I can’t believe it, even when I just heard it. She’s granting me the little details that I always wished to choose on my own. It’s the little things that create happiness and perfection to one’s appreciation.
..........................
Evelyn's POV:
.........................
I know that it feels like my veins are going to explode, but I must push harder on the metal bar. I press both of my palms on the horizontal pole, as I begin to lift myself up. “Evelyn, please tell me if you need assistance. Its definitely okay, I don’t want you to exhaust your strength. (He jokes to lighten up the mood) This is therapy, not self torture.” I nod at his funny words, but it sounded real to me to be honest.
I am being self-tortured, and I kind of accept it by now, because this is how my life became. If I don’t pressure myself to stand up on my feet, I will be a give up; a crippled young lady for the rest of my life. Young? What does that word even mean? Is youth important only for how a person looks like, or does it also count on the internal feeling?
The reason why I ask myself this question, is because I, myself, am stuck in an untitled frame. I am young from the outside, but from the inside it feels like it has been ages and decades already. The only thing that made me feel young on both majors, is when my heart used to pump faster; at a single touch from Harry.
I still blame myself for this, because he didn’t do anything wrong. He loved me for me, and he respected me for who I am; and not for what I was portraying in front of the social elites. The sweat begins to form on my forehead, as I begin to balance myself on the pole; but that didn’t last for long.
My feet have never felt weaker or numb, like they are right now; they begin to shake in a speedy movement. Before I could fall on the ground, the nurse and the doctor had their arms around me to stop the disturbing tumble. “(He soothes) Evelyn, you are becoming stronger day by day. I guarantee you that you will rise up again; its only a matter of time until your emotional level is stabilised. Are you still taking the daily medications for your nerves? (I nod slowly, as he and the nurse place me back on the wheel chair) Very good, Evelyn. I’ll leave you with nurse Linda for a message therapy, and then she’ll escort you to my office so I can give you my report, alright?” I smile thinly, but not because I am happy; I just feel grateful for the patience that my doctor is granting me. “Thank you, for everything.”
…At Night (At the Rider’s Residence)…
"(She smiles widely) See, honey? I knew you were making progress. I really am so happy that your percentage has increased five percent more than it was. Which means, that you have a forty-five percent now, its close to a fifty, darling.” I nod, staring at my mother’s wide smile. She really is a cheer when you need someone in your darkest times; and I also feel that our bond is stronger than ever now. I guess my disability has both good and bad effects.
“Mother, I want you to do something for me, please.” She bobs her head, placing her palm over mine. “Anything, tell me.” I lift my free hand, to place the straightened strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to pick out a dress for me, you know for the cocktail party this Saturday?” She furrows her eyebrows, but her smile is still present.
“No, I won’t do that this time. I have been taking control of your presentation and lifestyle for so long, darling. (She rubs my hand in her hold) I trust you choice, and I want you to be able to pick out something on your own, for once. All I’ll do is assist you in your final presentation. Deal?” I can’t believe it, even when I just heard it. She’s granting me the little details that I always wished to choose on my own. It’s the little things that create happiness and perfection to one’s appreciation.
Notes
2 more chapters to go, just:
KEEP READING DARLINGS <3 :D xx
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This is amazing :) you are an amazing writer ^_^ very different, yet very clever :D
3/29/15