Breakfast and a talk

When Sam woke up, she didn't feel any better. In fact, if it was possible to deepen the pit of anguish and rage that stood at the edge of her conciousness, she had done it. Sitting in that plasticized hospital bed, with her ever- cunning left brain catagorizing everything in the room in order of it's potential for damage, she felt like.... nothing. Not nothing as in unthought about or unloved, something more unsettling that that feeling. Sam was angry and sad and terrified, but she couldn't and, for some reason, wouldn't, do anything about those emotions. It left her fire without wood, and the emptiness of that was terrible. Wait, yes, that's a click- it has to be that stupid shrink again. Left side began listing the items in the room in order of potential damage to another person, and Emily walked in, wearing the exact same outfit- and the same stupid smile- as last time. " I saw that you were awake on the Nursecam, so I came as quickly as I could, after stopping by the Cafeteria for your breakfast. I have an orange, some milk, a peice of toast, and a hardboiled egg...... Do you want anything?"  "No. I'm Lactose intolerant, and alergic to citrus, grains, and... uhh... yolk." Sam lied. " By the way, exactly WHY IN THE HECK ARE YOU BUGGING MY ROOM?" "The  NurseCam is not a bug, it's for your safety. This way, a nurse doesn't have to be with you all the time to watch out for you. We had it installed after the first few days you were asleep." " I've been asleep for days?" "No, weeks. Lots of people thought that you were in a coma, but I knew that you weren't. Even though we got off on a wrong foot, I saw a spark in you right away." Oh great, the classic sentimental crap.

As Sam begrudgingly setteled in to a sitting position, Emily grilled her about "emotions"..... like she knew what she was talking about. 

The End

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