"Aw shiitake mushrooms..."
I sit up and put my head in my hands and find Ricky staring down at me with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" he says. I didn't know what to say. I was okay but then I wasn't okay at the same time. "Are you okay?" he repeats.
He puts his hand gently on my back like if it wasn't there my back would magically collapse and I'd be paralyzed. "Get your hands off my back before I scream bloody murder," I say. My voice was kinda croaky but he still knew what I said and took his hand off my back. He smirks and says, "Well somebody woke up on the wrong side of the court." I look up at him and say, "HA. HA. Your so funny Ricky. You should go to a comedy show where the only people who will probably laugh at your jokes are the eighty year old people because they can't hear you." I hear a couple people behind me snicker and laugh. Ricky just smiles and says, "Good one miss high and mighty who thinks shes better than everyone. I think that person who threw the ball at your head had good reason to, considering your snooty attitude and bratty expressions." Now that made me crack a smile just a tad because of my hood nobody can even see my expressions which means either he must be really close to my face or.... Hes a spy. I'd rather him be a spy.
"Just back off," I say aggravated. He puts his hand out. "Come on you need help getting up, just take it and I will never speak of it again." I reluctantly took his hand and as soon as I got up I could definitely feel that woozy-I'm-going-to-throw-up feeling. He lets me grab on to his arm so that I can't fall over. He tries propping me up but everything is spinning and my mind is in a whole other world. I don't know what I'm doing. Then all of a sudden I black out. Again.
"Hello? Miss? Wake up." I hear a voice outside of my head. Is someone trying to talk to me? I turn over to my other side and find that its too much effort considering my whole body is sore. "Hello? You awake?" I open my eyes real quick and this light bulb is literally right above me. Jesus, can someone get that thing away from me? "Move the light bulb," I say while covering my eyes with my forearm. "Okay dear." The lady moves the light bulb towards the door directly opposite of my eyes. Good.
"So how are we feeling?" the lady has some kind of accent and is wearing a plain purple shirt with jeans and white tennis shoes. Her hair is short and extremely curly. The curls keep bouncing as she moves her head around. She has dark brown eyes that show warmth and motherhood. Someone like this almost makes me have hope that there are people out there with hearts and understanding. Even if the world is coming to a complete end. Considering the global warming, extinction of animals, lack of food for poor, little provisions and protection for those around us, and people who are losing their houses. Yet here is this woman with kind eyes and an inviting smile that lets you know everything is going to be okay. No wonder they hired her for this job. For retards like me to feel comforted when they wake up from an embarrassing black out from a stupid verb ball. How is that even possible to black out from that?
I try grabbing on to the sides of the chair/bed thing to push my body up so then I can sit but I feel like a total weakling. "Need help?" the woman says. I nod and she comes to grab my arms while I'm trying to push the momentum of my body upwards. After about a humiliating five minutes of me pushing my body and her pulling my arms forward I finally sit up on the chair. The woman pants slightly and tries to act like I was some feather. Believe me I am no feather.
"Put your arm out deary. I need to give you this shot so that the medicine can help the pain in your head," the woman says as shes filling the needle with some clear liquid. I know I should know what that liquid is called considering we did a whole unit on needles and stuff that prevents pain and junk.
She kind of wipes my arm with a cloth that has something on it and is prepared to stick me with this deadly utensil... All of a sudden I have this flashback of how when I was a kid we had to get shots before we were allowed in school. When the doctor came in all smiley and cheery I thought he was gonna be his nice old self and give me a lollipop or balloon and take my height and weight, the normal stuff. When he popped out this killer needle I screamed. The kids outside the door and mothers were panicking thinking I was probably being murdered. My mother rushed to my side and covered my mouth with her hands. I specifically remember her having fake red nails on because they were digging into my cheek. The doctor, kind of startled, took my arm. As he was about to inject that poisonous (it is poisonous when your a child) into me I jerked my arm away and shot landed right on the chair. It was sticking up and it took three people to get it out. I was crying the whole time. Then the doctor, kind of irritated, faking his smile, took my arm firmly and put it in me. That's when I knew that if I ever again came close to a needle I would be traumatized for the rest of my life and now here is this lady about to put the shot in me and its freaking me out.
I stare at the ceiling, counting sheep. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.... Then it was over. The woman stands over my face and says, "All done. I'm Claudia by the way. Never formally introduced myself. Shame on me. Here take this." She hands me a green lollipop. "I know how young people love candy. Even you older ones. Enjoy. Oh and you can leave now. Your mother is waiting for you." "Thank you Claudia," I say with as much sincerity as possible.
Claudia was a nice woman but the needle thing still creeps me out. I check my arm and find a smiley face band aid. I love it. Its very cute and adorable. I don't care if I'm in high school, it looks fabulous.
"Oh my god Stephanie. I can't believe you. You... You..." I smile. My mom has no words what so ever. "Mom... Don't ruin the moment. I'm tired. I just got bashed on the head and blacked out twice and took a shot from a woman named Claudia whose sweet and gave me a smiley face band aid... Don't ruin this moment." As I keep walking my mother walks behind me in silence. I hop in the car and put on my seat belt. I see my backpack is already in the backseat. When my mom finally gets in the car she says, "Stephanie I was worried about you. Don't you ever do that again." "It wasn't my fault mom," I say irritated. I don't have magical powers that can make a flippin verb ball hurl at my head. She smiles and says, "Its always your fault. No matter what." I haven't heard her say that in a long time. So I smile back.