Page 84 of Alessia
“I don’t know what to say…” I croak, my voice breaking with emotion.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She huffs. “Could you both leave now, I’ll see you tomorrow, I’d like to be alone now.”
Lorenzo stands and takes my hand, guiding me out the room, I set the risotto I brought with me on the counter and follow him. At the door I glance over my shoulder at Harper, her back already turned, shutting me out every way she can.
29 - Harper
Iknow that was harsh of me, but Alessia needs to understand that she might not be able to fix me. No amount of kind gestures or sweet words can fix me. I’m broken and rotten and even though the physical injuries healed I can still feel every cut, bruise and tear. My entire body hurts inside and out. My head feels like it might explode from all the dark thoughts inside it.
I press the call button for the nurse and a few minutes later a cheerful blond walks in.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yeah, please, could you ask the doctor if I can get something that helps me sleep better?”
“Uhm… You’ve already been prescribed quite a bit of medication so I think you’re at the limit of what I can give you.”
“Please…” I plead.
She let’s out a sigh, “I’ll see what I can do.” With that she leaves my room and I’m left alone again. I get out of bed and walk over to the bathroom and undress. I look at my body for a long time. My scars are slowly changing, healing, my piercings didn’t survive the brutal attack of those men. There was I time that I liked those, wanted those to feel sexy and adventurous, now I’m glad that they’re gone. My long blond hair hangs loose and I pull it up in a ponytail.
“Miss Davis?” I hear the nurse call from my room.
“I’m in the bathroom.” I reply.
“Oh, okay, anything I can help you with Miss?”
I look at my face, hair and body.
“Yeah…” I drawl and put on the robe that Alessia brought for me and I walk out. The nurse is standing next to my bed, looking a little dumbfounded at me.
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Uhm… That depends…” She stammers.
“Can you get me a pair of scissors and help me cut my hair.”
“Do you think you should make those kinds of decisions now, Miss Davis?”
“Does it matter? It’s hair, it will grow back you know.” I retort.
“I guess it does. Okay, fine.” She gives in and walks out of my room in search of scissors.
The nurse returns a few minutes later with a pair of scissors in hand. She hesitates at the doorway, her gaze flicking to the robe I’m wrapped in, then to my face. I motion for her to come in.
