There comes a time when, deceived and hopeless, with cold and stiff hands due to oblivion, you warm yourself by the fire, hoping that everything will return to normal, so abnormal, but natural. That's when you realize that everything you've built up to that point has had such a negative impact on you. Or at least that's what it should be.
Ema, so childish at the age of 20, with those light brown eyes like a deer chick, lived from memories because they were the ones who kept her alive, but also the ones who brought her to this point. Trapped in memories, as always, she didn't even notice the female standing in front of her, two meters away.
-Hello, my dear, how are you feeling today? Agnes asked kindly.
But Ema didn't feel like talking today either. Nothing new, given that the last few days had not gone well. The sadness in her eyes made Agnes feel bad. The silence in the room was uncomfortable. But Emma didn't seem to care.
-I'll let you rest, I'll come back later to get your medicine. Take care of yourself. Your mother left you a book on the table, so enjoy reading. With these last words addressed, Agnes came out, hitting the wooden door, barely held in hinges, louder than usual.
The nurse really cared about Ema. But she still couldn't have a more advanced discussion with her, and it had been almost two weeks since anxiety had settled into her soul. About what? About the future? Or maybe about the past? Only Ema could 'solve' this mystery that bothered her a lot and especially Mr. Braicu, a specialist doctor, a young and inteligent one, who tried several times to contact the girl's relatives in order to better understand her. But no one could fully explain her problems. He had promised himself that he would be patient until she will be able to reveal the insecurity and unacceptability she had mastered.