A Brand New Ending

Chapter 12

Braeden



I lay awake in bed, it now obvious that I'm not going to get any sleep. I sincerely regret calling in sick, knowing that I will do nothing but stir all night. My body begs for sleep but it never comes. I turn to my side, watching the clock on the wall tick away.

Sighing loudly, I throw the covers off of me and get up. Grabbing my uniform, I throw it on and head into the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face with my good hand, my other one still wrapped tight. I open my medicine cabinet, intending to grab my glasses, but then remember their fate. Phoenix. Like I could have even forgotten about her. Slamming the cabinet door shut, I grip the sides of the sink, anger and fury filling my body. She's just a girl for Christ's sake. How can everything remind you of her? I look up again at myself in the mirror, remembering what my father said. Some people don't want to be saved.

Grabbing my contact containers from the edge of the sink, I put them in and spray myself with a squirt of cologne before flicking off the light. Taking my jacket off the hook along with my bike, I leave the apartment in a hurry. When I get to the top of the staircase, I lean my bike against the wall to zip up my jacket, knowing it's going to be beyond cold outside. I hurry down the stairs, the weight of the bike burning my bad hand. When I get outside, I realize it's raining, but jump on my bike anyways. By the time I reach the hospital, my body is trembling from the cold. I lock up my bike and head up the back stairs and into the employee area. The feeling of anxiousness starts to creep up, an involuntary action. Taking a deep breath, I leave the staff room, the hospital is eerily quiet. As I round the corner, I spot Donovan leaned over the nurse's station, his laughter echoing around me. He instantly notices me, a confused look on his face. Walking over to him, I set my elbows on the counter top.

"I thought you were under the weather?" he says, wiggling his eyebrows. I just sigh.

"Couldn't sleep and, strangely, I decided to come here of all places," I mutter.

Donovan leans back, looking at me strangely.

"What?" I ask.

"Dude, you are, like, dripping all over the floor, were you out frolicking in the f*cking rain?"

"I rode my bike here." I say.

He shakes his head.

"You are just asking to get a f*cking..."

"If you say a 'cold' I'm gonna f*cking slap you," I say emotionless.

"For someone who got a hot piece of ass the other day, you are one emo motherf*cker." He laughs while smacking me on the back. I don't respond. My eyes look to the side, finding her door immediately.

"She's on the couch in the day room," I hear Donovan say, my head snapping back to face him.

"Who?" I ask.

"Phoenix," he says nonchalantly.

"You know her?" I say a little louder than expected.

"I do work here, a*shole," he states. "We hung out. I think I scared the shit out of her though."

I stand upright.

"What?" I ask sternly.

"Yeah, I moved a little too fast and she freaked," he explains. My heart rate spikes.

"What was she doing?" I ask, clearly confused.

"She was eating cookies with Liam," he states.

I can't hold a smile back, Donovan noticing it immediately. I leave him and walk down the hallway, my steps getting shorter and lighter, as I know that I am getting close to the day area. When I get to the opening of it, I am confused because not a single light is on in the room. How can she be in here?

I go to turn around until I see a soft shimmer coming over the back of one of the couches, the moonlight coming out from behind the clouds. I take a few more steps, rounding the corner, a beautiful sight before me. Phoenix is sitting on the couch, but her upper half has fallen over, a light snoring sound coming from her nose. I can't stop staring at her. What does this beautiful creature hold over me?

I take another step towards her, her long, flowing hair thrown across the armrest. I go to reach out to touch her, immediately remembering what Donovan said. I can't seem to get my father's voice out of my head. I've seen it in abuse patients.

Instead of moving her, I back away slowly from the couch, walking over to the linen closet, pulling out the warmest blanket we have. Going back over to her, I almost expect her to be gone, as though she is a figment of my imagination. Like she is too beautiful to be real. I smile when I see her still on the couch, except she has now shifted her body down so she is now vertical. Opening up the blanket, I lay it over her body gently, knowing this is all I can do for her.