Part 1

I kept my memories somewhere deep in the closet. I didn't want to see them, it causes unbearable pain. But today I took them with me. Every second I wanted my brain to stop working, I wanted to stop thinking, just sit here, on this strange bridge, which is neither straight nor beautiful, just black. He was like me, scratched, battered, and completely unsupervised. My stiffened hands held the photo of my family. Mom, Dad and me. We were happy. Now that I'm twenty-two, I realize I wasn't very happy that day either. Even though they were trying to pretend to be happy with me, a week later everything turned upside down....

The sun was already long before it went down, the bridge was not well lit, but I was not afraid of the darkness either. I wanted no one to see me, I wanted to become invisible.

I stood up from the ground, even though my legs were stiffened, from sitting here for several hours. Holding onto the drip stand, I collected the pictures. Or at least what's left of them. I had to come back at hospital so they wouldn't have to look for me. I turned around to walk towards the hospital, even though my brain was screaming that it was better to jump off and not show up to this life anymore. But I couldn't. The height was to small, so nothing much will happen to me. In addition, I have been trying to prove for two weeks now that I will not try suicide again. After persuading the doctors, I'll be able to stay out of here. Returning to the ward, I heard only the rustling of leaves, the summer breeze was scorching in the evenings. On the way to the ward, several sisters passed by me, but without paying much attention, lowering my head, I returned to the ward. I miss my room, even though it's not perfect, but at least not white as it is here. Maybe even I miss the job, it is not poor, after survived such living conditions, I earn not at all. Life doesn't stop, just giving in to myself and my thoughts and I find myself here. I'm not some kind of teenager who couldn't handle my life, I just don't want to handle it. I want to end my life earlier before the disease has finished me. The treatment and all kinds of chemotherapies have long passed, it's only a matter of time before everything repeats itself again.

The door in front of me opened, and a Doctor came into the ward:

- Behold, - he put down a box with a bottle of medicine, - for your migraine attacks, drink these, - pointed to the variegated box on which MIGRENE is written, - And the night before, take a couple of pills of sleeping pills, they are weak, so do not think about something, - You'll end up here, you know, - he grinned.

- "I know, -  I whispered. That was my first word this week. I looked at those bottles, as if there was nothing else around, until the nurse took the catheter out of my hand.

- Tomorrow you can go to work, but in the evening you have to show up here, - Dr. Jeremy tried to catch my eyes with his own, - and every week after time it must appear to me, you understood?

- I know, - I nodded. When the nurse applied the patch, I placed my right hand on that spot.  When the nurse walked out of the office with a grin, the Doctor watched me for another half a minute. No one trusted me, not even myself. When he left, I found clothes in the closet, black pants, a blouse, a white sweater too big for me in several sizes, black socks and white sneakers. Face masks are used at work, so half of the face is not visible. I'm just driving on call, when I can. So I will look like always.

I hung all the clothes on the closet door, I packed up my omniscient suitcase as well. It was big enough, however, I have been working on it for four years now. In four years I put on makeup on the celebritys and other people. New York is full of them, sometimes I have to fly to other countries too, although personally I have never flown. My assistant, who is more like a sister to me, has already flown more than once. She's a wonderful person, not like me. My opinion and her are always different, I don't like all kinds of daring performances, so I usually sit in an apartment. And Luna is the queen of dancing, she's a girl with cheerful lungs. Somehow she manage to get along with everyone, that's one of the things that I'm still not able to do.

I was lying looking at the ceiling when I realized that all thoughts were going towards the bad. My table was lit by a lamp, enough light for me. I grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills and took out two pills and drank them with water. Now I know that it won't be long before I fall asleep.

,,Everything was dim, like a blurred image. An unknown silhouette approached me holding an elongated object in hand. I froze. I knew what it was. I tried to see face of this person and tried to pull back, but I couldn't move. My hands were smashed, my leg locked to the leg of the bed. My little hands couldn't even fully cover my face when I got a blow:

-Next time you'll know how to obey me! – a voice in my ears smirked. I knew what it was, I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I knew it was the person who brought me to life. The person who loved and protected me until the age of five is now tormenting me himself. The third blow was strong, I ran out of air, my body was red, my arms and legs covered in bruises. Only my face remained clean, covered in tears that she doesn't like so much:

-Mom, - I whispered...."

I jumped in bed. My loud breath filled the silence in the ward. I knew it was my memory, not my dream. I jumped out of bed and curled up on the ground. The headache was bearable, although I saw nothing around, I heard my whining. Curled up, I lay on the ground clasped behind my head until the pain underneath the little faded. When I was able to stand up, I grabbed a mottled bottle and, before the second attack began, I took a pill.

A cold shower always refreshes. I couldn't stand this silence around me, but I felt better knowing I was going to get home soon. Curled up in a towel, I looked in the mirror. The girl in the image was tired, her eyes did not shine, the smile did not show on her face. The white towel will almost identify with the skin of her face. It was me. Dark brown, short hair. After chemotherapy, in two years they grew to the shoulders. Were healthy enough, curly. The green eyes were tired, although I slept at night, I did not rest. I didn't have any earrings, it's rare that I would wear them. I didn't have tattoos, I wouldn't want anyone to see my scars on my hands. One hand was covered in a bruise, from the needles I was having at the hospital. And the other hand had scars. One above the elbow, and the other on the wrist. Even though half of my body was covered in a towel, I knew there were scars there too. My legs were thinner than a month ago, I think I lost weight again. That's great.

I sighed and swiped my hair with a brush, found a hairdryer and dried it a little. When I left the bathroom, I found my lingerie, it was the last in this big bag. I put on the clothes I found yesterday. At least they didn't see anything wrong with me. I tied my hair so as not to fall into my eyes when it comes to dyeing people. I wonder what I'm going to paint here today. I put on a black mask and a black hat, I hid my face perfectly. I gathered the medicine from the table, put other things in the closet, that wasn't mine. I threw my bag over my shoulder, and I walked out of the ward eith my my suitcase. I didn't even turn back. I hope not to come back here. Ha.

People looked at me strangely as I walked down the hallway. There were no children here. There were adults, those who could afford a private hospital. I walked over to the registration department and the nurse stood up to look at me. She didn't say anything when she gave away my things. These were the keys with an elephant pendant, my phone and a work pendant with my name on it. I nodded goodbye and walked out the door pulling my suitcase.

I took a deep breath of air, seemingly not breathing for two weeks. The street was noisy, everyone somewhere was walking, running, barking. But it's still better than silence for the hospital. There was a taxi parked nearby, so without further ado, I put my suitcase and I sat down myself and the driver looked at me:

- Hi Lincoln fourteen, - I muttered loudly enough for him to hear.

My throat ached from so many words. When we moved, I turned on the phone which was turned off for fourteen days. Raising my head a few times, I checked if we were driving correctly. The phone turned on and the vibration began. I had maybe 35 missed calls from my boss, and one from Luna. The message was also from Luna"As soon as you turn on your phone, let me know. Thank you xx." I rolled my eyes as I pressed her number and snuggled the phone to my ear:

- Nina, - it didn't take long to wait as she sighed to say my name, - how are you? Maybe you are already driving towards work? I'm waiting for you, be careful, - I hanged up. She knew I wouldn't answer anything. I haven't given some kind of promise of silence, but somehow that's my principle. I don't talk much. I don't do anything at all. I don't want to. .

After the taxi stopped at the gate, where there was a large enough house behind it, I got out. Luna was already there and helped pull out my suitcase. As soon as I raised my eyes to her, she hugged me. I stood with my hands down and waited for the influx of her love to end. 

- How are you?

- Okay, -  I nodded. I pulled my sleeves on my slightly freezing hands and put a slap on my shoulder.

-We're going to paint famous people today,-  she informed me without asking anything, - Rosita is unhappy that you're missing, but she can't lose you,-  I frowned. Another person who wants to be a part of my life. Thanks no.

- Who are they? – I muttered trembling instead, I was cold.

- A popular Korean band, - clapped hands, - B... BTS seems to me, I know a few of their songs. - she smiled. I nodded, pressed the gate button. A rustling sound was heard and a cheerful voice announced that we could come in.

I took a deep breath. Well, a couple of hours and I'll be alone.