Tia's POV:
My thoughts were blank.
What a strange occurrence. Normally my thoughts were twisting and turning, suffocating me with their whispers. I shake my head violently and entered my room. I tugged on my matchstick jeans and ballet flats. I wrapped a Hally-blue silk scarf around my waist, up over my torso, then tied the ends behind my neck to fashion a halter-style blouse. I locked my room and headed towards the library when I noticed a man walking towards the pond. It was as silent as any normal morning. His big boots made a rhythmical noise against the causeway. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice while speaking to an old woman. He had the kind of face that stopped me in my tracks. I guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course, the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. It didn't help that he was so modest with it, it made the girls around the park fall for him all the more.
I watch him cross the crowded road, he hasn't seen me yet so I gaze freely.
" He's not particularly special looking " I muddled.
He sees me through the window and smiles, making his way to the door.
" Did he just smile at me? " I let out a tiny gasp.
He's not usually the kind of guy I fantasize about. For starters, he's brunette and I've always liked blondes. I lust after blue-eyed men with a handle on the world of business. Until I saw him.
" Attraction, huh? ", said someone standing beside me. I turned my head towards that person and I was surprised!
" Oh god!! You again??! "
" Attraction is a magnet. It's that thought inside your head that says "There's something about this..." You gravitate towards this extraordinary thing that has captured your attention, and the more you're exposed to it, the more you learn about it. It may bloom into something more, or you'll just lose interest and go find something else to be attracted to, right? "
I didn't pay attention to what she said, " Huh? "
" Nevermind. " Jerry turns, but too slowly to be normal. When she speaks her voice trails slowly like her words are unwilling to take flight. There is a sadness in her eyes, the brown too glossy. She left immediately without facing me.
" I wonder, what's wrong with her? "
I ran to her and When I managed to get close enough to see her face I froze. Her feet were 3 inches off the ground, and blood trickled down her neck and into her jumpsuit,
" What happened???..... Why are you bleeding??..... Let me take you to the hospital. TAXI!!! "
" Hey.... hey.....hey... I'm alright! Why are you so worried about me?... Why does it matter to you?.... I'm fine, Relax! "
I didn't have any answers to her question,
" Because you live next to my room!!! ", I yelled without even thinking what I was speaking.
" And you are worried about me because I live next to your room? "
I remained silent.
" Wow. Alright! Call the taxi. I'll go to the hospital with you. "
[A few minutes later...]
The doctor entered in green scrubs, her black hair tied low in a ponytail. I sat up a little higher to get a better look. She was good-looking with large brown eyes, neatly lined in black. She spoke with an American accent and with her hands. So this was her surgeon. Younger than I had expected but somehow I didn't mind anymore. Those hands were beautiful, precise, elegant. That moment she thanked God for sending her such a wonderful doctor. The hypodermic needle grew as I watched it. The doctor had her lie on her stomach. Next, she examined the muscle in her left arm. When she pressed her fingers on that spot, the pain exploded up her spine to the top of her head. The nurse called the doctor into the hallway. The Doctor said,
"I'm going to inject Novocain into that injured muscle."
Then she brandished that weapon of a hypodermic needle. She laid the extra-long needle right beside her on the table. She looked away at the wall. However, her eyes swung back to it as if out of control. The tube with the medicine never grew. But the needle desired to be thrust into her poor, innocent injured arm, which never harmed anyone. The needle grew fast like the Hulk grows when he is angry. The doctor came back and plunged that needle into the sore place. When the doctor released the medicine, blessed relief. The nurse asked,
"Are you okay? "
She said,
"Piece of cake." as she fell asleep. The nurses took her to the Operation room and I left the ward.
The waiting room is signposted and the door opens into a room of comfortable chairs. Upon blue leather seats, I took those waiting room moments to relax and breathe.