I think I have officially reached the highest level of human happiness.
Not the dramatic kind.
Not the emotional breakdown kind.
No.
This is pure, unfiltered, slightly chaotic happiness.
The kind that makes you bounce for no reason.
The kind that makes nurses question your sanity.
And honestly? I don't care.
Because I am finally, FINALLY going home.
Home.
A word I almost forgot existed.
I am sitting up in bed wearing normal clothes again—real clothes, not those depressing hospital gowns that make you feel like a sad background character in a tragedy. My hair is brushed. My face feels like mine again. My body still aches a little, but it's the kind of pain you can ignore out of pure spite.
I swing my legs off the bed like a kid who just got released from prison.
"Stop looking at me like that," I tell Kiara, who is standing there with teary eyes again.
She sniffles. "I can't help it. You almost died."
"I did NOT almost die," I say immediately. Then pause. "Okay, I mean… I technically got emotionally upgraded by danger, but not dead."
Kiara makes a noise that sounds like a broken laugh and a sob at the same time.
I grin.
A stupid, wide, unhinged grin.
Because I win.
I survived.
I beat the hospital.
The hospital tried to keep me. I won.
The nurse comes in holding papers, looking like she's mentally preparing herself.
"Luna, your discharge is approved," she says carefully, like I might suddenly explode if she says the wrong thing.
I sit up straighter.
"Yes," I say instantly. "Correct decision. Excellent decision. Best decision of the century."
She blinks.
I add, "You will not regret this. I promise I will only annoy people outside the hospital now."
That does NOT calm her down.
But she still hands me the papers.
Victory.
Sweet, sweet victory.
My brother is sitting in the corner of the room, laptop open, looking like he aged five years in the last month.
Adrian.
My personal emotional damage receiver.
He doesn't look up immediately.
That's how I know he's already exhausted by me.
I smile wider.
"Oh my god," I say dramatically, turning toward him. "Do you see this? I am free. I am a free woman. A liberated citizen of society."
He sighs.
Deeply.
Like I am a government issue he cannot resolve.
"You're still injured," he says flatly.
"I am healed by the power of attitude," I reply instantly.
Kiara chokes on a laugh.
Adrian finally looks at me.
His eyes narrow slightly. "You're going to be a problem again."
"I WAS NEVER NOT A PROBLEM," I announce proudly.
That earns me the tiniest twitch in his expression.
Not a smile.
But close enough for me to claim emotional victory.
The food arrives next.
Real food.
Not hospital sadness soup.
Chicken.
Actual chicken.
I stare at it like I've been reunited with a long-lost soulmate.
"I missed you," I whisper emotionally.
Kiara laughs. "It's just chicken."
"It's NOT just chicken," I say seriously. "This is survival food. This is civilization. This is meaning."
I take a bite.
And immediately—
"Oh my god."
I close my eyes.
"Why is this so good. Why does this taste like happiness. Why did the hospital try to kill my taste buds."
Adrian doesn't even look up.
"You're overreacting."
"I AM NOT," I say through chewing. "This chicken healed me more than medicine."
Kiara is now fully laughing.
I point a chicken piece at her. "Don't judge me. You were crying two minutes ago."
She wipes her eyes, still laughing. "You're impossible."
"Yes," I agree proudly. "And alive."
Packing takes forever because I keep talking.
Mostly nonsense.
Mostly complaints about the hospital.
Occasionally dramatic declarations about freedom.
"I will never lie on that bed again," I announce.
"You will if you get sick," Kiara says.
"I will simply refuse sickness," I reply confidently.
Adrian doesn't even react anymore.
He has reached acceptance stage.
Or collapse stage.
Hard to tell.
Finally, it's time to leave.
The hospital doors feel like portals.
Behind me: white walls, beeping machines, trauma, boredom, emotional suffering.
In front of me: air.
Freedom.
I take a step out and immediately stop.
Then I spin slightly.
"WAIT."
Everyone turns.
I lift a finger dramatically.
"I just want to say something."
Adrian sighs again. "Please don't."
Too late.
I clear my throat.
"Dear hospital," I say loudly. "You tried your best. But I am built different. Respectfully, I will not be returning unless absolutely necessary."
Kiara covers her face.
Adrian looks like he is reconsidering his entire life choices.
The nurse actually laughs.
I bow slightly.
Exit speech delivered.
Perfect performance.
Five stars.
The ride home feels unreal.
Every street looks brighter.
Every sound feels louder.
Even the air feels like it belongs to me again.
I lean against the seat, still smiling like an idiot.
Adrian glances at me once.
"You're quiet," he says suspiciously.
I turn to him slowly.
"I am appreciating life."
"That usually lasts five minutes with you."
I grin. "Today I might stretch it to six."
He shakes his head slightly.
But I catch it.
The faintest relief in his expression.
He won't say it.
But he's glad I'm here too.
Even if I am unbearable.
Especially because I am unbearable.
When we reach home, I freeze for half a second.
Then I step out of the car.
And just stand there.
Home.
Real home.
Not hospital home.
Not temporary survival space.
This is mine.
I inhale deeply.
Then immediately point at the house.
"I missed this building," I announce.
Adrian mutters, "You were gone four weeks."
"It felt like four centuries," I correct.
Kiara walks beside me, still smiling softly.
And for the first time in weeks—
I don't feel trapped.
I feel loud.
Alive.
Annoying.
Perfect.
And absolutely ready to drive everyone insane again.
It doesn't feel as if i was about to die a month ago....i feel calmer like me...again
Not the vulnerable luna...
But
LUNA GAMBINO