A Brand New Ending

Chapter 17

Phoenix



I can't do anything but stare. The gold chain flickers in the moonlight. He's giving me my necklace back? The tears threaten to fall and as much as I fight, I lose. The warm liquid flows down my frozen cheeks.

Reaching out, I take it delicately in my hands, feeling as though it may crumble from my fingertips at any moment.

"But why?" I ask, knowing stuff like this is forbidden.

"Because I know how important things like this can be," he says with a twinge of pain behind his voice.

"Thank you so much," I repeat.

"You're welcome. I'm afraid that you can't wear it though. Technically patients can't have something that they can…" he stops mid sentence.

"…hurt themselves with," I finish for him. He just nods.

"I promise," I say while nodding. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I'm glad that I can bring you happiness, Phoenix," he says. "Well, you better get in there."

"OK." That desire builds up again, the same feeling as last night. When I reach the door, I turned back around.

"Just remember, you promised," I say.

He nods.

I give him a large smile before entering back into hospital, clutching the necklace in my hand. I sit down at the table, the smell in the kitchen is nothing short of incredible. With Rain at my side, I feel content. Happy.

As we eat, I get small glimpses of Braeden as he walks by, his eyes always finding mine. The feeling of anxiety is now replaced with excitement. I eat everything on my plate, not having had a real Christmas Eve dinner since I moved from my father's to San Francisco after his death.

"Someone was hungry," I hear Rain say, her eyes on my now empty plate. I just smile at her.

As I sit around watching everyone else eat, I look at the tree that Braeden and I put up and it makes me smile. My eyes then look up at the mistletoe, my smile falling when I notice it is not longer there. I drop my eyes downward, looking at the hair now standing up on my arms. Something subconsciously tells me to look up again and out through the kitchen windows into the direction of the nurses' station. That's when I see him. Them.

I snap my eyes away from his, my heart beating so fast that I fear I may pass out. I remain seated in my chair, every muscle in my body locked. My eyes looking. Searching. I finally spot him outside another window, his back now facing me. It takes everything in my power to not scream out his name, the notion of that even scaring me. I start to gnaw on my lip so hard that a warm, metallic taste reaches the tip of my tongue within seconds. Braeden isn't turning around and it makes me even more frustrated. I search out for someone else, anyone at this point.

I look to my left, the chair next to me empty. I hadn't even noticed she left. Tears start to well up and they cloud my vision. The forcefulness of the tears becomes too great; a slow drop runs down my cheek. I try to peer through the window again, realizing that I have lost sight of them, not knowing if they are still here or not. I feel so helpless. Alone. And the thing is, I'm surrounded by people. The only place I thought I felt safe can't even keep the fear away. Shifting my eyes around the table, all the other patrons are absorbed in their food, no one seems to notice my frightened state. No one ever noticed. Not here. Not ever.

I look over at Braeden again. This time his eyes are on me, not moving anywhere else in the slightest. He's clearly noticed my anxiety and all I can do is shift my eyes in the direction of the nurse's station, hoping that Braeden has picked up mind reading since I last talked to him. My body is trembling, the wooden chair creaking slightly with each quiver. Braeden remains fixated on me until a figure steps in front of him, a white doctor's coat taking up most of my peripheral vision, essentially blocking any and all views of him. I remain locked in a stare, not knowing what else to do.

A large crash reaches my ears, making me jump in my chair, and clutch my chest. Peeling my eyes away from the window, I see two aides wrestling a patient to the ground. I take in all the food that is now thrown across that end of the table, pieces of porcelain plate joining them. I secretly thank my lucky stars for the distraction. All eyes are on the unruly patient, giving me a chance to leave the room unnoticed. Reaching up slowly but keeping my eyes focused upwards, I run my fingers along my silverware. Feeling the curvature of the spoon, the triple prongs of the fork. The small jagged blade of the knife. Wrapping my fingers around the handle, I continue to look upward, waiting for someone to stop me. Someone to rip it out of my hand. But they don't. The metal of the knife is cool against my clammy palms as I drag it towards me. I know what I am doing is wrong, but having it on me feels…safe. The knife is incredibly dull, but it will do.

Tucking it into the hem of my pants, it's skinny enough to be concealed easily. Sliding out my chair, I rise slowly, needing to get out of here. I get up calmly. Well, what I think is calm, but I know that if anyone truly saw me, they would know I am far from it. Walking down the length of the table, I reach the edge of the kitchen and stop in my tracks.

Down the hallway from me is a mass of people. People I know. Facing me is Carl, the look on his face couldn't be described as anything less than deathly. Next to him was Elaina. I could see her eyes peering over the shoulders of the figures that were not facing me. But those figures didn't need to face me for me to know instantly who they were. One was clearly Braeden. I could pick him out of a crowd within seconds. The other was the coated figure that had come to Braeden earlier. It's Dr. Harris. He had told me that he would be my attending physician here, but I hadn't seen him around before now.

As I stand there, Braeden slowly turns around to face me, his sympathetic look no longer on his face, a look of rage replacing it. He shifts his head back to the crowd, mumbling something, his eyes looking at Dr. Harris. He then shifts back to me, and starts walking toward me. My heart starts to beat faster, the rate now equating to what feels like the flutter of a humming bird's wings. I watch with tunnel vision as he comes toward me. It only takes a few strides for him to cross the room. He reaches out as though he is going to grab my upper arm, but he stops himself his arm stretched out mid air. He drops it instantly, a small part of me upset by the fact that he won't touch me. Also a new feeling for me. His eyes remain on the floor for a second then dart back up to me. He clears his throat before speaking.

"Phoenix," he says finally looking up at me. "Come with me, please."

He starts to walk away from me and it only takes mere seconds for me to follow. I don't look back. I never want to look back. I follow behind Braeden closely, reaching my bedroom door in no time. He opens the door slowly, allowing me to enter first. We don't say anything, each second ticking by seems like an eternity. He clears his throat again.

"Well, I guess I'll just be leaving. You stay in here until this gets resolved."

He takes a step away from me and I instinctively reach out, my finger tips only grazing the sleeve of his shirt. I retract my arm hastily. He must have felt it because he turns back around. I gnaw on my already tender lip.

"Please, I don't want to be alone when they come in here," I swallow. He takes a step towards me, followed by another one.

"Phoenix," he says, saying it only above a whisper.

The way he says it, the way it flows off his tongue, makes me want to cry. His eyes are piercing into me now, the green in them bright. My mind reviews his previous sentence, realizing there were parts of it I don't understand. Until this gets resolved.

"What did you mean by this gets resolved?" I ask. The look on his face is indescribable, it shifts rapidly through several emotions that he doesn't even give me a second to identify.

"I don't want to assume anything," he states, the statement rather vague. I look at him confused. "I want you to know that I'd never pressure a patient into telling me their story. We always know a little bit about them, of course, but we never know the whole thing."

I swallow.

"I know what you tried to do to yourself, Phoenix," he says. "But I know that it wasn't you that caused that pain. The pain that made you think you had no other way out."

My bottom lips starts to quiver.

"And I want you to know…."

There is a loud knock on the door, Braeden stops mid sentence. He walks backwards, opening the door slowly. A flush of panic flows through me, the idea of Braeden being in the room with them. With me. But much to my relief there was only one figure standing in the open doorway, blonde hair shining in the light. Braeden and Dr. Harris talk in hushed tones, the conversation brief. Before he leaves, he looks up at me, giving me an apologetic smirk before leaving again. Braeden shuts the door, turning back around.

"They're gone," he mutters.

My heart jolts and I am rendered speechless. I do nothing but stare.

"Phoenix?" Braeden asks, clearly noticing my state.

"How?" I ask, it being the only word I can utter. Braeden looks down at the ground again.

"To protect you," he says softly. My stomach does flip flops. "Is that not what you wanted?"

"You are allowed to just stop people from coming in here?" I ask. He clasps his hand behind his back.

"We do what is right for the patient," he states, almost like he is reading it from a textbook. "We may not know the whole story, Phoenix, but it wasn't hard for my father to catch on. The scars. The way your mood changed whenever your parents were around."

"They are not my parents," I say sternly.

He frowns slightly.

"While he may not be, she is, Phoenix."

I huff.

"I know that's not what you want to hear, but according to the state, she is your legal guardian."

The fire burned inside of me. I almost feel mad at my father for leaving me. Leaving me with her. I felt like crying, but I didn't want Braeden to see me like that. I shake my head to distract myself.

"So, you banned them?" I ask.

He nods.

"Well, really only Carl," he says. "But when my father refused to let him through, your mother got very…flustered."

My mother didn't have the ability to be flustered. She was either very calm, or very irate. I've got a pretty good guess of which one she displayed.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," I mutter.

"I just glad you didn't have to," Braeden says, a small smile on his face.

My heart jumps. I wanted to ask so many questions, I wanted to know why he was being so nice to me. Was it something he did with every patient? But there was only one thing I could say.

"Thank you, Braeden," I say softly. He just nods and then checks the clock on the wall.

"I have to get back to work," he says in a disappointed tone. "Are you going to be OK?"

"I think so," I respond softly.

He goes to turn around, but I stop him.

"Can you please thank your father for me, too?" I ask.

"Of course," he says before pulling open the door.

"Good night, Phoenix."

"Good night."

I remain in the same position for quite some time, almost not believing all that had happened. I had come into contact with Carl and came out unscathed. Something that was definitely new. And I have Braeden and his father to thank for that. Within seconds of Braeden leaving, the door opens again, it making me jump a little. I see Rain peek through the doorway, a worried look on her face.

"Are you OK?" she asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

I just nod. I know I don't have to explain what just happened to Rain, the look on her face already tells me she knows everything. She walks over to me, wrapping her arms around me. It's nice having someone hold me. Someone that I care about, and that cares about me. I put my arms around her as well, remaining in this position until I pull back.

"Sorry I wasn't there," she says. "I had a visitor."

"Your parents?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Someone way more special."

"Who?" is all I can utter.

"Landon," was all she said.

How did she find time for a boyfriend? Where did she find him?

"You gotta give me more details than that!" I shout, suddenly feeling like a high school gossiping girl.

"Well, I met him last week," she starts.

"He works here?" I ask, clearly confused.

"No, no, no," she says quickly.

She takes my hand.

"You see, when you are…trusted, you are allowed to go out."

I stare at her even more confused than before.

"Rain, what are you talking about?" I ask.

"Outside the hospital, into the real world," she says, making air quotes when she says the last two words. "Along with an aide and a social worker of course."

"And that's where I met Landon," she squeals.

I put my fingers in my ear, fearing the glass in the windows was going to break. When she stops, I pull them back out.

"So, where did you meet this Romeo?" I ask, knowing Rain wants to gush about it.

"Well, I was starving and really just didn't want to eat the food here, so Donovan took me to a diner, along with my social worker, Vivienne."

She pauses and then starts back up immediately.

"So, there I was, sitting in the booth, eating my salad. I accidently knocked my knife off the table. He ran over and picked it up for me."

My heart drops. I had completely forgotten about the knife, now feeling the metal against my skin. I guess between my family drama and my alone time with Braeden I had forgotten about it. I try to pay attention to what Rain is saying, hoping to not give away my inner freak out.

"So, yeah…and then he said he wanted to see me again…." I hear.

I have clearly missed part of the story.

"That's awesome," I respond.

"You missed part of that didn't you?" she asks laughing.

Right. Can't keep anything from Rain. I hang my head.

"I'm such a shitty friend," I say. I hear her laugh.

"You're a great friend, Phoenix," she says, reaching out and holds my hand. "I know that you have other things on your mind."

"Wait, what's that?" she adds. I panic.

Could she possibly know? Is there an outline of it?

"Phoenix?" she asks, her head bobbing back and forth as though she is looking for something. I look at her.

"What's what?" I ask, trying to not lose my composure.

"On your finger," she says pointing.

I look down, opening my closed fists. I can't hold a smile back. I had forgotten that I wrapped the necklace around my finger, the heart pendent held in my palm.

"It's my necklace," I mutter, not able to get rid of my smile.

"And where did you get that?" she asks, clearly knowing the answer.

"Is there anything you don't know?" I ask. She laughs.

"I don't know everything," she says. "I can't tell you exactly what's going to happen next. I mostly just feed off people's emotions. And I can feel when there is going to a large shift in those emotions. After that I'm a really good guesser."

She stops.

"I'm not making any sense am I?" she asks.

"Actually, it kinda makes perfect sense," I say. "I'm just not used to be around people can gauge emotions...like at all."

I think about Elaina, all the times I would come downstairs, my eyes bloodshot from crying. She never even flinched. She never even looked my way.

"So, when are you seeing Landon again?" I ask, trying to keep my concentration this time. She shrugs.

"He said he would come back to visit me sometime, not a specific date."

"Oh," I respond.

We both fall silent for a second.

"Can I ask you something? Something...intrusive?" I say.

"Of course!" she says with glee.

"When do you get to leave here?" She laughs slightly.

"I choose to be here," she responds. Who would want to be here, under their own will?

"Why do you stay?" I ask, trying to understand.

"I feel safe here," she explains. "Plus, I don't really have anywhere else to go."

My heart sinks.

"I am a shitty friend," I repeat. I realize I never asked her about her.

"There isn't really much to know," she starts. "Parents both…do you really want to hear about this?"

"Yes. I do. If you want to tell," I declare. I didn't want to pressure her, knowing from firsthand experience how hard it is to air your dirty laundry to strangers.

"It's really pretty simple, my parents had me sent here and then they decided to take off…"

"Take off?" I ask, her choice of words…vague.

"They moved out of the country," she says, no emotion on her face.

I put my hand to mouth.

"I'm so sorry," I say, walking over to her, putting my hand on her back. I see a single tear form in the duct of her left eye. I don't know what to say or do. I've never comforted anyone before.

"It's for the best," she simply states. "Even though they were my family, I never felt connected to them, especially after the things that they did." My heart jumps.

"Which is..."

"My parents…were unorthodox. They don't believe in modern medicine, so they tried different ways to rid me of my demons."

I jerk my head back, trying to understand what exactly she was talking about. I didn't have to say anything before she answered my questions.

"Exorcism…" she states.

I don't even respond, not knowing what to say. Didn't they only do that in cheesy scary movies? I can only imagine what that entails.

"And when that didn't work, much to their surprise," she rolls her eyes. "Then they went a little more abrasive."

"Do I even want to know?" I say.

Her hands leave her side and find their way to the hair behind her ear. She moves it away slowly, exposing small scars behind her earlobe.

"Electric shock therapy," she states.

That is something I do know about. I had learned about it in school, but knew it was popular back in the 40's and 50's. The fact that her parents thought this was good for her makes me sick to my stomach. How could anyone want to cause physical harm to their own child? I have to hold back a laugh, realizing the hilarity in that thought.

"I'm so, so sorry," I say, knowing my apology doesn't change anything. She flattens her hair so that the scar is now gone again.

"It was a dark time in my life," she says. "And I don't ever plan on going back there again."

This great urge to hug her overcomes me, wanting to show her that I am there for her, just like she has been for me since I have been there.

I wrap my arms around her, her doing the same. We stand there for a few minutes in silence, nothing but the sounds from the hallway reaching my ears. Lesson learned for the night? There has been two broken hearts in this room all along. After a few minutes Rain pulls back.

"I think I am going to go to bed," she states.

"OK," I say softly. "I am going to go take a shower."

Rain is the closest thing I had to family since my father's death. Sliding into my closet, I reach down, pulling the knife from the pants. I hold it in my hand, staring at it. What the hell am I going to do with it? If I turn it in I know they will think I am suicidal again. I choose to hide it in an old sweatshirt, realizing I have never seen them search our closets before. I jump into the shower, the warm water relieving some of the tension I had been holding onto. When I finish I hop out quickly, throwing on a pair of pajamas before the frigid air can hit my body. When I make it back to the bedroom it is pitch black, the sound of Rain's breathing reaching my ears. For once, the silenced darkness is welcoming.