Anger Management

         I pulled off my hospital gown and got into my regular clothes. I grabbed my purse and headed towards the front desk.
         “Yes. Hi, the doc says I’m ready to leave.”
         The lady at the front desk gave me a bright smile. “I’ll need your name to sign you out.”
         “Oh, sorry. Sandra Piermont.”
         “Ok, yes. It says you're free to go.”
         “Thank you.”
         The lady looked back down at her pad. “Dr. Freeman says you’re free to go, but someone must drive you home. The hospital has someone that can bring you home if you need.”
          “I won’t need that, thank you, my husband said he’d be waiting for me. I think he said he would be in the waiting area near the front desk.”
         “No one’s been in the waiting area all day, dear.”
         I frowned. I looked behind me to see the waiting area where there was a leather couch and some chairs around a coffee table, but the area was empty.
         The lady continued, “ this place has been empty all day. You’re the first person I’ve seen in a couple hours, I believe. Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”
         I tried to think. “I came into the hospital with my husband, Charlie, this morning, and we talked to you and then I went with you and he went to the waiting area.”
         “No, dear. Someone dropped you off outside and you walked in on your own. I distinctly remember that because you’re the only person that walked through those doors today since eight in the morning.”
         A strand of hair fell into my line of vision and angrily pushed it out of the way. “No, Charlie came here with me and said he would wait.”
         “Ms. Piermont that is not what happened, I’m sorry.” The woman was slowly becoming concerned.
         I finally had lost my temper with this dreadful woman. She didn’t know me. “You know nothing about me,” I yelled in her face. She looked startled. I speedily walked to the waiting area and sat down on the couch. I looked at the woman and she quickly looked away, as if she had been staring at me.
         I pulled open my purse. I took my wallet out of my purse and opened it up. I produced my driver’s license and read the name on it, just to make sure I hadn’t lost it. Bailey Smith. I closed my eyes and put my head on my hands. I faintly heard the rhymes with witch behind the counter, “is everything alright, dear?”
         I threw the wallet back into my purse and stood up and rushed over to the woman behind the desk.
         “What do you have down as my name?”
         The woman looked down at her pad. I tapped my nails on the desk and rolled my eyes. “Smith, Bailey.”
         I began to laugh.
         “Ms. Smith are you alright?”
         “Oh, I’m just great. Just swell.”
         “Do you want me to call your doctor?” The lady began to go for the white receiver.
         “Don’t touch that goddamn phone,” I yelled.
         “What?!” she said.
         I went back to the chair and pulled out my phone. I went to the contacts and, what do you know, I had no idea who any of the people were on the list. I threw the phone against the wall where it shattered into little pieces.
         “Ms. Smith! I am going to call security, if you don’t settle down!” the woman yelled from across the room.
         I stood up and looked directly into the woman’s eyes. She went for the phone. I sprinted across the room and hanked the receiver out of her hands and the threw the whole setup onto the floor. I then proceeded to stamp all over where it progressively became more destroyed until there was just a piles of wires and cords. The woman watched in shock and in fright.
         “M… Ms. Sm… Smith,” she stammered.
         “Yes?” I smiled.
         The woman fled, yelling, “Help, help in the lobby. Help!”
         I went back to the chair and sat down. There was a TV so I switched it on and watched the daily news. There was a pounding in my head but I ignored it - it was probably due to that annoying woman.
         Suddenly there was a patter of footsteps coming down the hallway. A group of four people led by a muscular doctor in front emerged.          The woman from the desk was second in line, her face tear streaked (which brought me a semblance of joy). I stood and waved to them.
         “Oh goody. You’ve brought the cavalry. I never actually got your name, you, the lady from the desk.”
         She was about to say something but the muscular man cut her off, “she has nothing to say to you. You need to go.”
         I sat down in the chair. “No, I think I’ll stay. Good day to you.”
         They approached me and grabbed my shoulders. “You need to go, Bailey.”
         “Get off,” I yelled, then I started to squirm. “You’ll hear about this from my lawyers.”
         They were strong, those guys, and they were able to bring me outside despite my squirming. “You fiends,” I screeched. I was crying now. They stood me up outside and then they went inside. They locked me out. I screamed at the top of my lungs and banged on the doors.
         “The police will take you home,” one of them said from inside.
         At that point I sat down and curled into a ball and I stayed there for a long time.