It permeates all around me, this cloud of emotion, this fog, and I have almost resigned myself to spending another afternoon alone, when the boy throws his acidic words over his shoulder at me. They hit true and hard, and I flinch, mentally and physically, as he orders me to stop - and I do try, I rein in the torment, the depression, the loneliness, I pack it away safely within myself once more. Only it is not completely held - it is as if it has been temporarily muted, muffled, still definitively there but just ignored, shunned.
He shouts again, his words even harsher, his motions jarring and sudden, his tones demanding and direct. He hates me, I am sure, hates me for only trying to be present, to reach out and help. I do not know what exactly I am helping him with - but I am a doctor, it is in my nature to try and try and keep trying until all hope is lost, until the last breath and the last heartbeat leaves the body. This boy is still very much alive but he does not seem keen on living that life.
"Please," the thought echoes from my mind, a soft yet persistent plea, a final effort before I do indeed proceed this day alone.
He shouts again, his words even harsher, his motions jarring and sudden, his tones demanding and direct. He hates me, I am sure, hates me for only trying to be present, to reach out and help. I do not know what exactly I am helping him with - but I am a doctor, it is in my nature to try and try and keep trying until all hope is lost, until the last breath and the last heartbeat leaves the body. This boy is still very much alive but he does not seem keen on living that life.
"Please," the thought echoes from my mind, a soft yet persistent plea, a final effort before I do indeed proceed this day alone.
Chulane
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