A Brand New Ending

Chapter 20

Braeden



Just as I reach outside the parameter of the hospital, I feel something slam into me. Before I even have time to react her lips are on mine. I panic, reaching up and pulling her body away from mine, our lips detaching.

"What's up, lover?" she says smiling.

"Wh…What are you doing here?" I ask, clearly confused by her presence.

"I wanted to see you," she says. "Plus it isn't really hard to find the retard hospital. Are you ready for round two?" A large smile comes across her face.

"No," I say sternly, still holding her away from me. "That was a one-time thing." She gives me a fake pout.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself at the time."

I let out a big sigh.

"It was…fun," I lie. "But I don't feel anything for you."

"What the f*ck ever, Harris," she huffs. "When the hell did you get so f*cking boring?"

I just sigh, knowing I won't get anywhere with her. When I make it clear that we aren't and never will be anything she turns around and leaves. I knew that was a f*cking mistake. I look back at the hospital into the recreation room window, a soft light illuminating from it. I start walking down the block, the sound of thunder reaching my ears. I walk a few blocks but then abruptly stop.

"F*ck," I mutter to myself, remembering my text book on the table.

I turn around and head back to the hospital, getting their quickly in fear that it may start to rain soon. Pulling open the back door, I step inside, shouting and hollering reaching my ears instantly. Life as a medical aid is unpredictable, especially when it came to mentally impaired patients, times of chaos not exactly a rarity. I go into the break room, my book sitting in the same spot that I had left it. I grab it, sliding it into my backpack and exit the room.

When I finish zipping up my backpack, I look up, my feet frozen in place. In front of me is a mob of aides carrying Phoenix. Her body is thrashing about, her left arm dripping with blood. I instantly feel sick to my stomach. I want to run up to them and scream for them to get her hands off of her. I want to soothe her. But I know I can't. Just as soon as I see them, they are gone. I almost feel as though it was all my imagination. I had just left her. She was happy. I was happy. Even though they are out of sight, my legs still protest to move. There is now no one else in the hallway, it extremely quiet. After a few minutes I begin to inch forward slowly, knowing exactly where they have taken her. When I come around the bend, my body slams into a hurrying figure.

"Braeden, what are you doing here?" he asks.

"I should ask you the same thing," I say.

"I came by to drop something off," he responds. "And then…" he stops.

"What happened?" I sternly ask.

"She's OK," he says.

"That's not what I asked."

"They called a Code Green." Psychiatric emergency.

A lump in my throat appears, trying to swallow all my emotions.

"So she's…" I ask. He nods slowly.

"She's restrained but she's fine. We gave her a shot of Ativan to calm her down. The cut on her arm isn't deep and she didn't hit any main veins."

I let out the large breath that I didn't know I was holding in. He puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I know this is hard for you, son, but there is nothing you can do for her. You need to go home and get some sleep."

"No," I say sternly.

"Braeden," he says, his voice demanding. "Go. You've been on duty all night. Phoenix is surrounded by people who know what she needs and how to take care of her. I know she's a special patient for you, but you need to go home."

I feel sick to my stomach, wanting to be near her, a selfish part of me thinking this wouldn't have happened while I was on shift. I would have kept more of a watch on her. But would I be able to restrain her?

"I promise to keep you updated," he says.

I turn around, much to my dismay, and head back down the hallway. Worried. Sick. Angry. But before I get too far, I turn around back to face my father.

"Did you know it was today?" I ask.

He nods. I don't say anything else before heading down the hallway and out the back door. When I make it back outside the rain has started to fall, the small drops seeping into my clothing, soon reaching my bare skin underneath. I couldn't care less.

I stand outside the employee entrance of the hospital, staring at the door, the only thing blocking me from running back inside. The scene replays in my mind over and over. Hands all over her, the way the blood streaked down her arm like a flowing river. I had never felt a surge of anger like that. Anger at myself. Anger at those touching her, even knowing full well they were only there to protect her. Protect her from what she had done.

I replay our last encounter in my head, a weight being lifted off my shoulder when I told her how I felt about her. And not only did she not run away screaming, she confessed the same to me. That was the first time in a long time my heart felt...hope. I don't know what that meant for us, how would this work? Many questions came to my mind, but no matter the question, the answer was always the same. We will find a way.

I think tonight marked the first night I didn't want to leave my shift. I wanted to talk to her, get to know her more. Stare at her beautiful face for hours. But I knew that if I stuck around things would become more suspicious, a small part of me thought Victor already has his suspicions. As I continue to stand there in the rain, my entire body is now soaked, my scrubs wet against me like a second skin. But I don't care. I stay where I am, squinting as my eyes are being bombarded with rain drops. If I can't be in the room, I can at least be near her. After an unknown amount of time, the back door flies open, startling me out of the trance.

"What the f*ck are you doing out here?" the figure standing in the doorway asks.

"I….I…" I start to say, not able to complete a sentence.

The figure steps down, pulling up its hood up and over its head. He walks over under the awning, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Will you please just come the hell out of the rain," he says. "You look like a drowned rat."

I start to make my way over to him, leaning against the building wall. He hands me the cigarette, and I take a long draw from it before handing it back. I don't usually smoke, but this night calls for it. Looking out at the passing traffic, I slowly let the smoke leave my lungs, mixing into the rainy air. Donovan doesn't saying anything else. I suspect he is waiting for me to break first. It only takes a matter of seconds.

"I feel like I'm going to f*cking throw up," I say, my nerves still getting the better part of me.

Donovan takes another puff, handing it back to me. Each draw relaxes me a little.

"Just relax, man, you flipping out isn't gonna help the situation."

"You have no idea how much strength it's taking me to not barge back through that door," I state. He turns to face me.

"You care for her right?" I nod. "And you want what's best for her right?" I nod again. "Then you need to stay away. Her mind is obviously not in its best state right now."

"You sound like my father," I mutter.

I notice that the cigarette is at its end and I flick the butt out, the tip snuffed out in the rain in seconds.

"Well, he's right."

We both fall silent again, the sound of raindrops hitting the roof overtakes the stillness. I notice that he is shaking his head slightly, his face lost in thought.

"What?" I ask.

"I guess I know how you kind of feel," he admits.

"In what way?" I ask confused. He hesitates. "Just tell me."

"I don't know, man," he starts. "I mean we've dealt with a lot of attempted suicides over the years, but seeing the…seeing her like that. Something about it affected me more than normal."

My stomach begins to churn. I don't respond. I honestly didn't know whether to yell at him or thank him.

"How did you know to go in there?" I ask. He laughs a little.

"Rain," he states. "She was about to go grab some food and the next thing I know she is bolting to her room, grabbing my arm on the way. She kept saying 'Phoenix' over and over, almost like she was in a trance, man. It was f*cking weird."

I get chills, the hair on my arms stand vertical. Maybe Rain really is psychic after all.

"Did Rain say anything about Phoenix beforehand?”

"Nah, but hadn't you just left her? I saw you two coming out from inside and then you left right?"

"Yeah."

That's when the panic sets in, nausea growing. She saw me. Us. I put my hands up to my face, rubbing my face up and down.

"F*ck!" I scream out.

Turning around I slam my fist in the concrete wall, pain radiating through my fingertips.

"Woah, man," Donovan yells, pulling his body off the wall to face me. "You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?"

"F*cking bitch," I whisper to myself. Donovan stands there facing me, not saying anything.

"I gotta go," I say as I start to walk away. Donovan reaches out and grabs my arm.

"Here," he says, handing me his coat.

"Thanks," I mutter.

And that's when I notice his shirt. It's splattered with red. In blood. Her blood. Taking the coat I swing it over my body and break out into a run, leaving a silent Donovan behind. I continue to run, the rain pelting me in the face, the cold reaching far down in my throat, my vocal cords freezing over. As much as my mind tells me to stop, my body can't. I just run, not exactly knowing where to go. After what seems like an eternity, I stop, my body bending over, my throat begging for air. Once my breathing returns, I stand up, slowly walking now down the path I was headed. When I reach it, I pull the door open and hold it, letting a woman exiting leave first.

"Thank you," she says awkwardly, probably noticing my disheveled state. I just nod in response.

I enter the shop, the scent reaching my nose. I take a deep breath, it calms me slightly. I walk over to the refrigerated case looking at all the options.

"May I help you?" I hear a voice say to the right of me.

I turn to face the direction, a petite women standing beside me. She has to be well into her seventies. Her eyes are taking in my form, realizing now that a pool of water was gathering at my feet.

"I'm so sorry," I say backing away from it, the water only following.

"It's no worry," she says. "Anything I can assist you with?" she asks again.

"How do you know which one to choose?" I mutter, turning my attention back to case.

"Is it for someone special?" she asks.

"Yes," I explain.

She helps me pick one out and I pay for it quickly before heading out of the shop again. Heading west, I walk down the street; the heavy rain has changed to a light sprinkle. After walking a few more blocks, I reach the wrought iron gates, slowly pushing them open. The place is quiet, it makes me nervous. I walk down the familiar path, the bouquet tight in my hands. I take in my surroundings, a few colorful umbrellas off in the distance. They are so vibrant against all the dark stones. After a few minutes I find it, my visit is clearly not the only recent one. Kneeling down, I place the small bouquet of roses up against the stone, making sure to not cover her name.

Sophia Harris. Always loving. Always loved.

The wet grass seeps into my already drenched pants and I just look down at the ground. I don't know what to say. But yet, I want to say everything. I want to tell her about Phoenix. I want to tell her I royally f*cked up the only good thing that has come into my life. I want to tell her about the unexplained pull I have to this human being, a pull not even I can explain. Reaching down I wrap my fingers around the grass blades, pulling them out one by one, slowly making a small pile in front of me. I finally decide to speak.

"Hi," I say softly. I pause, almost as though she is going to respond. Or anyone for that fact.

"Sorry I haven't come by lately…but I see that dad has been here," I say as I look down at the dozen white roses propped up against the headstone.

They were always her favorite. My dad gave them to her every year on their anniversary. White roses stand for heaven, purity and innocence. It wasn't a surprise when my father adopted the nickname "Seraph" for her. He always believed in the afterlife and that she would be taken care of in heaven. He refused to think that taking one's own life was considered a sin. I silently begged to differ. I clear my throat, it echoes between the trees.

"What do I do?" I ask.

Of course there is no answer. I replay the scene in my head again, the red on her arm, the fire that burned inside of me, the hopelessness I felt returning. What was I to do? How could I ever explain to her who that woman was? Would telling her the truth only further bury me in the bed of quicksand I fear that I am in?

I smile. Remembering our walk prior to the incident, and how she had told me that she felt the same for me. I knew that it was hesitant, but she had the courage to tell me, to meet me halfway. And that was music to my ears.

While I was lost in thought, I felt a bright light hit my eyes, making me squint a little. Looking up and beyond the trees I could see that the dark clouds had separated, rays of sunshine beaming through the leaves and branches. The warmth was welcome. Leaning up, I soak it in, keeping my eyes closed in the process. Thanks Mom. I know exactly what I have to do. I have to tell her that girl means nothing to me and that she is what I want.