A Brand New Ending

Chapter 22

Braeden



I lay in my bed; the sound of rain pelting the window is growing more irritating. I guess the weather is matching my mood at the moment. It's late afternoon and I am still in my damp clothes from earlier. I have no desire to get up and change. When I got back from the cemetery, I turned off my cell phone, not wanting to be bothered by anyone. But I know it's only a matter of time before someone shows up to check up on me. My bet is Donovan.

As I continue to lie there, I know I'll never fall asleep. Restlessness is a notion I've become familiar with since Phoenix came into my life. I reach my arm down to the bedside floor, my finger extending out to find the string. When I feel it, I hook it around my fingertip and pull up. The box is already half empty, which angers me slightly. Popping one into my mouth, it doesn't achieve the same calming effect it normally has. Closing my eyes anyway, I continue to eat the cookies, remembering back to a happier time.

~

"It's OK, sweetie, you tried your best," she said as she stroked the back of my head. The tears continued to stream down my face.

"But I let my team down," I said sniffling.

I had just single handedly made our baseball team lose the championship by striking out. She looked down at me, her brown eyes sympathetic.

"What have I always told you?" she asked, her hand now on her hip.

"Go in there and do the best you can. That's all you can do," I muttered.

"And did you do that?" she asked me. I nodded.

"There is always next time, sweetie," she said.

We both walked to the car, her arm wrapped around me still. Most boys would be mortified by such public displays of affection by their mother, but I didn't care. She was my best friend. My father barely made it to any of my games because he was always so busy with work, so she was my cheering section. When we made it home, I was still pretty bummed, knowing that I would probably get teased at school on Monday. I went upstairs and changed and came back down to put my dirty uniform into the washer. My mother taught us a lot of household skills that most other men still can't do to this day. She always wanted us to be self-sufficient.

When I came into the kitchen, the room was quiet. The house was quiet. I walked into the living room where the sound of muffled crying reached my ears. I walked towards the sound, my heart starting to race. Then the sight of them came into view. My dad was facing my mother, his arms on both her shoulders, tears running down his face. I ran to the side of the wall, hoping that he hadn't caught me yet. I stood there, continuing to stare at them, my mother's profile facing me. She was not crying, her face in a frozen state. My father shook her slightly and I could tell from his lips that he is repeating her name over and over. I put my hand on the table, leaning in, hoping to listen better. My gut told me not to, but a bigger part of me needed to understand what's happening. But as I leaned in closer my body hit a picture frame, the glass smashing to the floor with a loud crash. My father looked up, his hands dropping from my mother's shoulders as he backs away. Something in my mother snapped back, her eyes on me. My father walked away and she came back in through the patio door.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetie," she said, rubbing the top of my head.

"What was happening?" I asked, still confused.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday," she said. I furrowed my brow.

"Are you hungry? I'm sure you are after that big game you played!" she said, her smile now back on her face as though nothing had happened. I just nod.

"Then why don't you take a seat," she said as she rooted around in the cupboard.

I do as I'm told, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Moments later, I noticed she has two small boxes in her hand. She set one down in front of me. "Now, I have a challenge for you," she said. "I want you to write down every animal that is in this box, which one is your favorite and why."

I smiled, the challenge of it excited me. Over the next hour my mother and I talked and ate our crackers. My favorite is the elephant and hers was the bear. It's then that I realized all the worry I had previously had been eliminated.

~

It was that night that my dad convinced my mother to admit herself. Digging into the box again, I realize it's empty, tossing it back onto the floor. Moments later, I hear voices, recognizing only Bret, the other female voices unknown. Grunting, I pull the comforter over my head, wishing that I could just disappear.

~

I fling the blanket off my body in a panic and sit up straight. The room is pitch black and I glance over at the clock. 11:07 p.m. I don't know exactly how much I slept, but a small part of me feels refreshed but my brain only takes seconds to remind me what had happened. The anger and grief comes back to me quickly, knowing I will never truly run away from it.

I don't go back to the hospital for another twelve hours, but I know I will be useless until I can talk to her. To tell her what she mistakenly saw. That is if she will believe me. Pulling the covers off, I walk slowly through the dark room, grabbing my phone to illuminate it. I open the door slowly, remembering the voices I heard earlier. Not wanting to talk to anyone, I decide to not search them out. Opening the bathroom door I peer in, happy to see that no one is currently occupying it. Turning on the shower, I close the curtain while waiting for it to warm up. Looking up in the mirror, I barely notice the person looking back at me. It's even worse than the last time. My face is beyond scruff and I can't actually remember the last time I shaved or took a shower.

Pulling off my once-damp, now crusty, scrubs I pull open the shower curtain again and step inside. The warmth calms me and relieves the tension in my back a little. After a few minutes, I start to shave, smoothing the cream all over my face. Once I finish, I set the shaver down and pick up my body wash. I start to wash myself, my hand grazing over my nether region, a surge of tension emanating through my body. Grabbing my body wash again, I squeeze a hefty amount out onto my hand, placing my hand back, it instantly hardens. Wrapping my fingers around it, I pump up and down, feeling f*cking incredible. My breathing becomes hitched and I lean my other arm on the wall to rest my head against. I continue to pump and as soon as I close my eyes, all I can see is her. As much as I try not to, I just can't keep the vision at bay.

Picturing everything about her makes me jerk harder. Her eyes. Her lips. Her smile. The way she laughs. I shake my head, knowing this isn't where she should be. I continue to stroke, the body wash now frothy, making the stroking easier. I can feel it, the intense knot in my lower abdomen. I am close. After a few more strokes the pressure is released and I come, the sticky substance mixes with the body wash and falls to the shower floor. Stepping back into the spray of the water, I finish washing myself off before I turn off the shower and grab my towel. Its only when I finish drying off that I realize how much I needed it. Wrapping my towel around my waist, I finish getting ready and realize that lying around here might not be the best thing for me. Grabbing my phone I quickly send out a message. Pulling open the bathroom door I exit, only getting a few steps outside before my body slams into something. Before me is standing a petite redhead, her body wrapped in nothing but a sheet. She leans into me closer.

"Well, if I had known that you were in there taking a shower I would have come in sooner," she says, her words slurring a little bit.

I don't respond, not really wanting to give her the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, I hold on tighter to my towel and squeeze myself out. When I get to my bedroom door, I close it and lock it behind me. I dress in a pair of skinny jeans, a dark grey, hooded sweatshirt and grab a pair of mis-matched socks, along with my well-worn lace up boots. In the middle of lacing them, I hear my phone chime. I open it while laughing a little, respond and then slide it into my pocket.

Walking over to my window, I peer out onto the street. It's still pouring out so I grab my black beanie before unlocking the door and heading out into the living room. I take a quick scan of the room, glad to see that Bret has taken his party to his own bedroom. Leaving the apartment, I pull my beanie on over my head. It's only a few blocks to the bar but I decide to take a cab, not wanting to walk around in wet clothes again. Within a few minutes I arrive and toss some cash at the driver. When I exit, I spot him outside immediately. I walk up to him, not knowing who is going to speak first.

"I'm surprised you don't have a cast on your arm," he states. "You punched that wall pretty hard." I give him a sideways smile.

"It does kind of hurt," I say, stretching my fingers outward.

"Is it not manly to say that I was worried about you when you took off?"

I laugh. "A little."

"Well, whatever," he shrugs. "Let's go get a drink."

We walk inside, glad that it's not the other bar we frequent, realizing I can never go back there. Donovan and I each grab a seat at the bar and order our respective drinks. I decide on something a little harder than beer, hoping to drown out my own thoughts. Taking a sip of it, the vodka burns as it travels down my throat, but I like it. The pain matches the pain that is currently flowing through my body. I wish that I could just talk to her. To tell her everything that she needs to hear. But I know that if I show up there while I'm not on shift everyone will know and I don't think she is ready for that. Taking another sip, I can feel my nerves easing up and my tense shoulders relaxing a little.

"Good huh?" Donovan asks.

I just nod. "Yeah, this might just be exactly what I needed."

"Good to hear, man," he responds, putting his lips to his own glass.

"I guess I owe you an apology," I mutter so quiet I almost hope he doesn't hear me.

"For what?"

I let out a sigh. "For earlier, man, I sort of just snapped."

"That's alright, not like I haven't been there over a chick before," he explains.

I just shake my head, my inner thoughts taking over my mind again. "I just can't believe she saw us," I mutter to myself, then realize that I had just said it out loud. I hear Donovan's glass slam down to the counter, his eyes wide.

"And what do you mean by us?" he asks, a pissed look on his face.

I swallow, not wanting to tell him. Not wanting to believe that I am the one who f*cked things up. Me and my f*cking cock.

"Remember the bartender…the one I…." I let my voice trail off.

"…that hot one you f*cked?" Donovan so eloquently finishes my sentence for me. I just nod.

"Well, she showed up at the hospital just as I was leaving," I continue.

"Dude," Donovan responds.

"And she assaulted me with her mouth, I didn't even have f*cking time to react," I defend. "I have a horrible feeling that's what caused Phoenix's breakdown. I think she saw us."

We both fall silent, Donovan's non-responsiveness putting me on edge. "There is only one way to find out man," he finally says. "You gotta tell her."

What the hell am I going to say? Would she even listen to me? I start picking at the coaster underneath my drink.

"How was she when they released her?" I ask. Donovan shifts his head from side to side slightly.

"She was pretty loopy, the Ativan had her pretty jacked up and it was still clearly in her system. She just apologized and pretty much sacked out once I carried her to her bed."

A spike of jealousy runs through me. I know that Donovan would never try to go for her like that, but it always seems like he is there for her and I can't be. We spend a few more hours in the bar, both of us just chatting about various things, trying to avoid the elephant in the room. I'm surprised that I can hold a conversation considering there is only one thing on my mind.

~

The loud sound of a buzzer reaches my ear, an instant groan leaving my throat. I can feel the pounding in my head, an obvious sign that I had way too much to drink last night. I continue to lay with my head on my pillow, almost forgetting why I have my alarm set. My heart starts to beat and I instantly spring out of bed, the room spinning slightly.

"F*ck," I say grabbing my head.

Pulling a new set of scrubs out of my closet I head to the bathroom, deciding to take another shower, considering I smell like a dirty bar. Within ten minutes, I am dressed and heading towards the hospital, my heart beats fast and a thousand words repeat inside my head. After a few blocks of walking fast I pull out my cell phone, realizing that I may have left a little too early. I continue to walk down the street a little slower now and the sound of guitar strings reaching my ears. I walk towards it, a young man busking on the side of the sidewalk with an open guitar case in front of him. It's scattered with some coins and a few paper bills. I watch him play; his handwork is good for someone so young. I run my fingers over my own calluses, remembering when I started playing, almost the same age as him. My father said it would be good therapy, to get my mind off things. Reaching into my pocket, I grab my wallet, pulling out a twenty dollar bill.

I toss it into the case, the player giving me a nod without breaking his concentration on the song. I continue to walk down the street, coming across a small novelty shop. I decide to go in, needing to kill a few more minutes. The shop is filled from head to toe with small trinkets, making it somewhat claustrophobic and overwhelming. I mindlessly peruse the shelves, my mind only on her. My stomach is tied in knots. I don't know how this will turn out but all I know is that I have to tell her everything.

Just as I am about to leave the shop, something catches my eye. On one the shelves closest to the door is a small porcelain seal. I pick it up, remembering reading Phoenix's account of her jump from when she was first admitted. When she described something swirling around her feet I knew exactly what she was talking about. She wasn't the first suicide survivor to tell this story. There had been urban myths and legends about animals saving people's lives in times of dire need. In Phoenix's case it was a seal. I knew it instantly when she described the way the water swirled under her feet, the seal working hard to keep her afloat. Grabbing the trinket, I pay for it quickly and rush out of the store, hoping that this will be enough for her to let me talk to her. A possible icebreaker.

After a few more blocks the hospital comes into view and my heart starts racing even more. I quickly find my way to the staff lounge. As much as I want to run to her room, I know I can't make a big scene about it, for fear of scaring her or losing my job. Sliding the seal into my pocket, I make myself busy with my tasks. Time is moving too slow during this shift. I keep one eye peeled, looking and hoping to see her. To see her beautiful face. To know if she is OK. When I finish a few things I look down on my duties cart, seeing the words "linens." Never has such a simple word make my stomach wrench. I was hoping that I would get to see Phoenix on neutral grounds. I didn't want to invade her privacy like that. I laugh to myself. Privacy? Here?

Looking up at all the security cameras that clutter the hallway I fear the bedroom is the only place that we can do this. The only place in the hospital that cameras are not allowed. Walking into the linen closet, I grab a pair of fresh sheets and slowly make my way to their door.

I hesitate and stand in the doorway trying to gather my thoughts, but my nerves get the best of me. Wrapping my fingers around the door knob I push it open slowly, the hinge squeaking a little. The room light is off but there is enough light coming through the shades for me to see inside.

Shutting the door behind me I set the sheets down on the small table. The room is quiet and I instantly see her form lying in her bed, her long hair sprawled across her pillow. I take small steps to get closer to her, her beautiful face coming into view. She looks so peaceful, it makes me heart soar. All the pain from her face is gone, her lips turned slightly upward.

She is smiling. I continue to stare at her, absolutely mesmerized by the creature in front of me. If only I knew what was bringing her such joy I would try my hardest to make it come true. Knowing that I could never awaken her, I pull the porcelain seal from my pocket, setting it gently on her nightstand and quietly leave the room.