A Very Bad Day

As soon as we get home, I run to my room and slam the door. Then I throw my coat at the huge unicorn next to my bed. Following the coat, glows and my hat fly across the room, too. The unicorn is still smiling at me. „Yeah, you always keep smiling, Lucy!“ I jell at it. It doesn't answer. Lucy just keeps smiling, and staring at me, with her huge blue eyes. I guess she has no choice. „Lucky you! There never is a reason for you to be upsad!“ I say, this time not as loud. It's not the first time talking to my stuffed animal. I walk across the room to my bed, suddenly feeling very exhausted. I feel like a skyscraper is standing on each of my shoulders. A poisonous mixture of preassure, despair, helplesness and pure sadness. I fall onto the bed, head down. The skysrapers don't move. Oh, I forgot to mention, there is also a huge imaginary stone stuck in my throat. I stretch my arms and legs, looking like a starfish. Acually I guess I'm trying to pretend I am one anyway. So to sum it up, there is an 15 year old girl in a very bad mood, lying on her bed, trying to be a starfish. But it's not that simple. Not at all. It's actually very complicated. I lift my head up a bit, and glance at Lucy. Then I quit lying in bed, to walk over to Lucy, picking up my clothes, throwing  them on the floor next to me. Then I get back into bed, with Lucy in my arms. She is soft and cosy. I wish everything was so soft and cosy. I wish this day had been soft and cosy, that all these bad things just hadn't happened. But they have.

I was so close to crying at the hospital, when the doctor gave me the bad news. I wasn't going to die or anything, but his words were painful. „There are still seizures seen in your EEG“ (electroencephalogram) he said. „You won't be allowed to drive any car, until that is gone“. I nodded, but realy I wanted to cry. „Also, we need to take blood, to see how your body is reacting to the medicaments“ I stared at him. Then I shook my head „no!“ My dad then explained to him, that I was terrefied of that. The doctor promised that he would make sure it's done by someone who has experience. Still, the thought of someone stabbing a needle into my arm makes me feel sick. But my fear wouldn't change anything. I would have to come here again in two months, have another EEG done, and they would take blood. As if what happened before the hospital visit hadn't been bad enough! Getting bad grades for no reason, and knowing that you haven't studied for two classtests coming in a few days, can ruin a day very quickly.

Oh, my dad and I had been so confident that the EEG would go well, we were sure that we'd go home happily. But instead we were driving in silence. We did exchange a few sentences, but that was it. At that point I was just staring. Just staring in shock, staring out of the window, staring at the supermarket, at people, our house, then staring at my stuffed animal unicorn.

Now I feel the first tear running down my face. I see it drop onto Lucys' horn. Then I start to sob. Now I can finally cry, after holding it back for so long.

Hours later, I have calmed down. But only because I have no tears left. Lucys head is all wet now, and I'm surrounded by hundereds of tissues. My mind is going in circles. Suddenly I jump up, and stumble to my desk, unplugging my laptop, to get back under the blanket with it. I turn it on. The bright light is blinding me. „Uh, the light of a thousend suns“ I mumble, quoting Troye Sivan. And then I start typing.