Comic

Melbourne in winter was hell. You weren’t built for it and you craved the sun. As June turned into July you found yourself on the phone with John more. Ignoring the fifteen hour time difference and the fact he was busy with his first year of residency..

“I just wish I could be laying in the sand, snorkelling and looking at all the pretty ocean creatures”

You whine into the phone one night. Rolling around on your bed, trying to warm up while you listened to John grunt on the other end of the line.

“Are you at work right now?”

He doesn’t respond. Just lets you listen to the pen scratching as he does his charting.

“John, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?”

A scoff escapes you. Of course he wasn’t listening, of course he was focused.

“Why do you pick up calls if you’re at work?”

“Because I love hearing your voice, no matter how whiny it is”

His reply is simple, a bit degrading but it makes your heart swell. How he could answer your call even if he was busy. He wouldn’t drop anything just add the stimulation of your voice until he broke from too much input.

It honestly offended you that John could sit there and call you whiny. After all the times you’d listen to him complain about Benton and hadn’t once degraded him for it.

“Like you don’t whine about Benton”

It had come out sharper than you had meant it. In the moment an overwhelming sense of betrayal had taken over and you needed to take it out on him. Degrade him for the callous way he called you whiny. If only John could see your face, he’d probably laugh at the frowny pout. The way lips curled downwards and your eyebrows curled.

“Starfish, I didn’t mean it like that-”

You can hear the exasperation in John’s tone. The way he’s probably pouting now too. You were everything to him and he hated the idea of upsetting you.

“Come on, tell me how you’re feeling”

His tone is tender. Trying to coax you to opening up. Not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had.

“I just… I feel like total crap John…”

Your voice is broken, the dam finally breaking as you cry into the phone. Wanting nothing more than to be by his side in Chicago, in the States where it’s summer. Although maybe not Chicago since there’s no ocean beaches.

“I hate winter, I hate the cold, I hate being stuck in this godforsaken house barely able to warm myself up!”

The more you talk the angrier you get. Every little emotion flooding out of you. On the other end of the line you can hear John’s breathing. No scratching of the pen, no rustling of paperwork. Just steady breathing.

“It’s so cold all the time and my gas bill goes from 80 to 400 if I turn the ducted heating on it’s ridiculous!”

As you complain about the money John almost laughs. Doing the conversion in his head.

“280 is pretty good isn’t it? I pay nearly 400 during winter which would be 575 for you”

It made you want to slap him. How priss and out of touch he could be at times. It almost felt belittling, how he forgot that you weren’t from his world. He grew up in a mansion with everything he could need except a parent’s love while your family scraped by.

“You’re doing that thing again John”

“What thing?”

“The silver spoon thing”

“Sil- Silver spoon thing?”

“Yes”

“Starfish-“

The back and forth goes on for a little while before John finally relents. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut before taking a deep breath.

“You’re right, I’m- I’m sorry okay? I do forget not everyone was- well is as fortunate as I am”

You can feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone. Torn between wanting to comfort him and keep your distance, let him wallow in the awkwardness.

“Starfish…? Talk to me”

Silence remains on your end of the line. Not sure what to do anymore. After a few minutes you open your mouth. Going to say something.

“John-”

“Crap, I gotta go. Call me later”

Before you can even process it, John’s hung up on you. Probably rushing off into a medical emergency that swung through the doors of County General.

Jane Doe was a lonely girl. Once raised with butterfly kisses she was now victim to a monsters jaws. Torn limb from limb as her mind fractures. A little dolly all shattered.

Jane Doe was a happy girl. Smiles as she hugged everyone who walked through those gates. Showing off her pearly whites to each older student. The young student was a joy to see. A routine in everyone’s days it was no longer odd.

Jane Doe has secrets. Long sleeves covering gashes she made all on her own. Hidden from the world as memories swirl back, consuming her whole.