A Brand New Ending

Chapter 25

Phoenix



Two weeks. It has been two weeks since I have talked to him. I have spent most of that time in my room. Guess I really am a coward. I hear a sigh echo through our room.

"What, Rain?" I mutter from under my comforter.

"Don't you want to eat something?"

"No, not really," I respond.

"But…" I flip my covers off, my body now facing hers.

"I really appreciate your concern but getting out of this bed sounds f*cking awful right now."

Rain flinches at my use of vulgar language. Sometimes I swear she acts like my mother. To be honest, I have spent most of my time in my room, wanting to spend as little time out there. Of course I do have to go out at some point, but it's mostly for food and to show everyone that I am OK. I laugh out loud and Rain instantly reacts.

"What?" she says, a smile on her face.

"Nothing," I say, shifting back over to face the wall.

Who was I kidding? I was far from OK. But I was used to it.

~

I must have fallen asleep again because when my eyes open the room is completely dark and Rain's soft breathing reaches my ears. I sit up, pulling the covers off me, my body instantly breaking out into a sweat. Standing up, I stare over to where I know Rain is sleeping and a pain in my gut grows. I know that I have treated her like shit for a while now. She's the last person that I should be doing that to.

When Dr. Harris took me off my medication, I instantly felt my emotions heighten, everything pissing me off. But the tiredness stayed. Stumbling my way to the bathroom I sit down on the toilet, my bladder feeling as though it's going to pop. As I sit there I try to count back the days since we talked. As much as I tell myself I won't think about him, when things get silent he always sneaks into my thoughts. Which is a lot lately. Once I pull away from his kiss I had ruined everything. I saw him a couple times after that, but he never looked my way. He never spoke to me. Why would he? He told me everything. He never lied once and yet I still refused to believe him. As the days stretched on I saw less and less of him. I overheard Donovan and him talking about his medical school so I assumed he was spending more time there and less time here.

When I finished, I got up and washed my hands, splashing a little on my face in hopes that it will wake me up. Feeling along the wall, I walk into the closet and try to grab things from memory. Slipping them on I walk back into the room and hear Rain snoring loudly. It makes me laugh and always amazes me how something so loud could come out of something so small. Opening the bedroom door slowly I peek across the hallway, happy to have the nurses' station so close. On the wall behind is a rip-away calendar. Looking up I smile. It's Tuesday.

Braeden doesn't work Tuesdays. I shake my head, realizing how pathetic I have become. A few days after the incident I found a copy of the employee schedule on the floor, committing it to memory before putting it back. Just as I am about the exit the room a tall figure flashes before me, scaring me instantly.

"Oh, good, you're awake," the figure says. I just nod in response.

"If you could please come with me," he says.

Opening the door more I slip out and then shut it gently, making sure not to wake Rain. I follow behind him, my fingers intertwining in a nervous manner. My mind goes in a million different directions and I don't notice that he stops, my body ramming into him. I instinctively flinch. He turns around, giving me a wide smile.

"I'm sorry," I plead.

"That's quite alright, Phoenix, I know you didn't do it on purpose."

He pushes open a door, my heart racing.

"You may sit wherever you like," he says, ushering me in without touching me. A wave of nervousness comes over me, a feeling I have never had with Dr. Harris before. But I know why it's different this time. Walking into the room I sit in an over-sized arm chair. It's the most comfortable thing I have sat in a long time. Shimmying myself so that I sit upright, I watch Dr. Harris walk around his desk, setting some paperwork down. He looks up, giving me a small smile. He starts to make his way over, but stops at a high counter top. I see him pull out some scissors, my heart racing. He continues over, putting on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Is it OK if I sit down?" he asks, pointing to the ottoman across from my chair. I nod. As he sits down I am now eye level with him, it seeming to calm my nerves a bit.

"I am going to remove your stitches," he explains. "It may pinch, but it shouldn't cause you any great discomfort."

I laugh inside. If he really only knew how many times I have had this done. Reaching over gently he takes my arm in his hands, the six stitches displayed outright. He looks puzzled.

"They seem to be a little inflamed for how long it's been." I bite my lip, not responding. I've always had a thing for picking at things. Stitches and scabs included.

"But the wound seems to be healed," he says, continuing to snip them one by one. The room falls silent. When the procedure is done he wipes it with an alcohol swab.

"Do you want me to wrap it?" he asks.

I shake my head no. He nods slightly in return. As he goes to get up I notice that he is moving slowly, obviously for my benefit. He walks back over to the counter top and puts his utensils in a sterilizing bucket and washes his hands.

"Are you thirsty?" he asks, walking over to the mini fridge behind his desk. It makes me smile, not having pictured Dr. Harris as a mini fridge guy.

"Please," I mutter. He looks back in the fridge, shouting out what he has.

"I have sparkling water, iced tea or regular bottled water."

"Uh, iced tea, please," I say.

"Good choice." He smiles as he hands it to me.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Phoenix."

I begin to wonder what he wants. Dr. Harris has never been mean to me but this was a little much.

"Is there something that you need?" I ask, hoping to get a roll on things.

"In particular…no," he states abruptly. "I just wanted to see how you are, considering I am your attending physician."

"I'm great, doc," I say, saluting my tea to him before taking a sip. Mother of God this was good.

"I'm sensing some sarcasm." He laughs. Ding. Ding. Ding. One point for the doctor. "Perhaps I should reword that, how are you feeling?"

Fan-f*cking-tastic. "Much better," I lie.

"And without the medication?"

"Fine," I lie again.

"Cause you know there is no shame if you want to go back on it." I laugh inside. Maybe I should so I can be a zombie the rest of this shit they call life.

"I don't know," I say, looking down at my hands.

"Well, we'll just take it slow, it's only been a few days since you have been off it."

"Ok." Things fall silent again until a phone ringing fills the room, it making me jump.

"Excuse me," he says as he goes over and silences it. The room falls quiet again. He picks up what I think is my chart. "So, I see that you have been going to all your therapy appointments," he states, not really to me in particular. "She has quite some good things to say about you, you've made quite progress since your first visit."

If he really only knew how much of it was all bullshit. One could say I was a master of putting on fake faces. He goes to open his mouth again, but is stopped short by the sound of his phone ringing again. I even hear him sigh.

"I don't mind if you answer it," I say, hoping to get a small break from talking. He picks it up and answers it.

"Yes," he states.

I furrow my brow. That's an odd way of answering his phone. I look at the other side of the room, my eyes finding Dr. Harris' bookcase. Looking back over at him I realize his back is now facing me. Getting up from my chair I make my way over, running my hands along the spines of them. Most of them are rather thick medical books but when I start to read the titles I realize they are all about psychoanalysis. I grab one at random, opening it up. The text seems like a foreign language, most of them long medical terms. I skim a few pages, the illustrations intriguing.

"OK, Braeden," I hear Dr Harris mutters underneath his breath, probably because he didn't want me to hear. I didn't know if Braeden had told him anything, but part of me knew he did.

"I'm sorry," I say as I shut the book.

Looking up at the bookcase I try to remember where it went, the once great hole where it sat now closed. Shit. Dr. Harris walks over to me, taking the book from my hands.

"We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love." I snap my head up at him. He laughs lightly.

"Freud," he says, holding the book up.

I look back down, the burn in my cheeks growing.

He slides the book back in its spot but continues to stare at the bookcase as a whole.

"Have you read all these?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"Yes," he says turning to me. "My wife used to say I was obsessed."

My heart drops at the mention of his wife. I forgot her death not only affected Braeden.

"Little did she know it was only research," he says quietly. I swear I hear his heart break. I mutter a sorry to him, a small smile returning on his lips.

"That's quite alright, Phoenix, it was a long time ago."

I continue to scan the bookcase, noticing two smaller books in the far corner, vastly different from the others. Dr. Harris must have noticed and reached back to pull them out, but only chooses one.

"This was her favorite book," he says handing it to me.

I look down at it. "Gone With The Wind." The cover is cracked and thin, it apparent that it has been loved for many years.

"She used to sit in the windowsill all day long and read this over and over. She always smiled. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

I can feel my lip start to quiver. Sometimes I forget I am not the only person that has lost someone special.

"She seemed really incredible," I say, not knowing what else to do.

I go to hand him back the book but he doesn't reach out for it. "You should read it," he states. "That is, if you want to."

I look down at the book, feeling as though I would be invading her privacy. "I can't do that, it's hers…I mean yours…."

"She would be honored for you to read it, she was always making everyone else." He laughs. I couldn't say no to him with that smile so I just nod.

"I will take really good care of it, I promise."

"I know you will, Phoenix."

Clutching the book to my chest I leave his office, our discussion done for the day. When I got back to my room I immediately stash the book away, wanting to make sure nothing happened to it. I don't know why Dr. Harris has chosen to let me borrow it. Would it hold secrets about Braeden's mother? What about it had her so entranced? But somewhere in the dark corners of my sick mind, I knew what I was truly doing. I was keeping my connection to Braeden alive without directly seeing him.

After our discussion I immediately went back to bed, not really wanting to do much else. I felt emotionally drained. For once I hadn't been the only one in the room with painful memories. It was hard to miss the brokenness in Dr. Harris's eyes when he spoke about his wife. Braeden never told me the whole story about his mother's death, but he didn't have to for me to understand the hurt behind it. I miss my father every day, but fortunately my father didn't choose to leave me. Braeden's mother had gone willingly, by her own hand. She'd had people that loved her; people that did everything to help her. I had no one. I have no one.

~

When I woke up this morning I felt surprisingly refreshed. The haze in my head was gone, the tiredness vanished. In my new-found happiness, I sprung out of bed and got dressed quickly. Grabbing the book from my closet, I flung open the bedroom door and was greeted by the sunshine coming in from outside. The weather here was always so unpredictable, but I like to think the sun today was just for me.

Bounding for the patio door I push it open, finding a small spot on the ground underneath a tree. I sit down Indian style, the book gently settled in my lap. Somewhere between Scarlett, Ashley, Rhett and Charles, I become lost in their world of love and deceit. Hours passed before I look up. I can feel the weather starting to shift, the warm sun starting to hide behind the thick fog.

I knew it was too good to be true. I can see why this was Sophia's favorite book. Scarlett is strong, overcoming adversity through brute strength of will. Scarlett is cunning and manipulates men with ease but she is also weak, insignificant things breaking her. But the most important theme of this story strikes me hard. The characters were most successful when they depended on no one but themselves. Did Sophia feel as though no one but herself could make things right?

As I continue to read I feel a figure standing over me, blocking my reading light. A long chill runs down my spine and I hesitate to look up. When I do, I see Dr. Harris standing over me, a crooked smile on his face.

"I see that you are enjoying it," he states, looking at where my finger is currently bookmarked, more than halfway through the mammoth novel.

"I am, very much," I respond, looking down at it as well, my tooth gnawing on my bottom lip. He lingers for a moment, making me antsy. I can tell that he is uncharacteristically uneasy as well.

"Did you need something?" I ask, my tone tentative.

"I just wanted to let you know you have a visitor."

My heart drops, bile rising in my throat. I feel light headed, like all the oxygen from the world has been removed. He doesn't have to tell me who it is.

"She has been here for quite some time actually," he states, his eyes looking straight into mine. "We've been talking."

She has been talking to him? Is she alone? I suddenly become very protective; an odd sensation.

"She would like to speak with you," he says softly.

He pauses. "He's not with her," he adds, as though he could read my mind.

My nerves calm a little but of the idea of being alone with Elaina still unsettles me. As much as I want to refuse, I know I need to channel a little Scarlett and try to be brave enough to handle her. I have to be strong. I get up from the ground, dusting the dirt off of me. Following him back into the building I stop at my bedroom door.

"Is it OK if I just put this back real quick?" I ask.

"Of course," he responds, waiting outside.

I run into the room, putting the novel in my closet. My hands are shaking, my breathing erratic. It's just Elaina. Shaking my body, I try to stop the nervousness, but it never completely goes away. Walking back out, I see Dr. Harris talking with a nurse, turning his attention back to me instantly.

"Ready?" I nod.

We make our way down the long hallway, each second passing slowly. We stop just outside his office door.

"It will be OK," he assures me. "I won't be far."

I watch him put his hand on the knob, my body trembling. Pushing it open he allows me to enter first. When I come around the corner, I spot her immediately. She is sitting in the same chair I had sat in not 24 hours ago. And for some reason that angers me. I feel like she is intruding. Intruding the one place I feel safe. Well, safe from them anyway. When I get fully into the room, my eyes fixate on the bookcase as though it's another person. Elaina's eyes fixate on me. A smile blooms on her face. Fake.

I look closer at her eyes, noticing that they are bloodshot and red, and the skin around them puffy. There is a tissue in her hand. Who knew she had emotions. She goes to get up from her chair but the purse that was on her lap falls to the floor, the contents spilling everywhere.

"Oh, I'm such a klutz," she says through a broken voice.

She bends down, trying to pick everything up quickly. Dr. Harris, who must have been behind me this whole time, walks around me, helping her. I remain frozen, laughing to myself on the inside. Typical dramatic Elaina. When they finish up, Dr. Harris calls me over. When I go to move my foot forward I feel myself kick something. Looking down there is a can of pepper spray settled between my feet. Picking it up, I walk over to the other couch, holding it out to her. She gives me a crooked smile and takes it from me. What does she need that for? The room falls silent and I start to chew on the inside of my cheek. Dr Harris remains standing and looks over at me.

"Your mother…" She's not my mother. "Would like to talk to you. And I think that you owe it to her to listen."

I involuntarily give him my biggest bitch face.

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice," I snap.

"Phoenix," I hear Elaina say.

"Don't call me that," I respond, my voice angered.

"I can't call you by the name that I gave you?" she says harshly.

"You didn't name me, dad did," I say, hoping to hurt her.

"Don't bring your father into this," she says.

I hear her sigh then close her eyes. "I didn't come here to fight with you," she adds.

Her eyes are now open again and she turns to face Dr. Harris. "Can I have some alone time with my daughter?"

I snap my eyes up at him, silently begging him to stay.

He clears his throat before speaking. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

To be honest, I don't know which one of us he's talking to. Once he leaves the room things remain silent until she speaks first.

"How have you been, sweetheart?" she asks, her body now shifted to face me.

"Why are you here?" I immediately say, not answering her question.

"I wanted to see how you are."

"That's bullshit," I mutter under my breath.

I hear her sigh again, her face dropping. A twinge of guilt runs through me. Don't play into it.

"So, how have things been with Mr. Charming?"

I don't even want to say his f*cking name. Elaina looks back up and reaches over, setting her hand down on top of mine. I stare down at it for a second before moving back so that it falls off.

"He's gone, baby," she says, a smile on her face.

I laugh. "Good one Elaina."

"God damnit, Phoenix," she hisses. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" I say calmly, knowing it's pissing her off.

"Why do you do this to me?"

I laugh. "Do what to you?"

My voice escalates to match hers. Elaina takes another deep breath. "I am your mother, whether you like it or not. And I came here to get you back, sweetie," she says as she gets up and sits next to me on the couch. She reaches out and grabs my hands again, holding on tight so I can't pull away.

"I came here to apologize." Tears start to gather in her eyes. "And that I know. I've always known, but I've been too cowardly to do anything about it. And I'm so, so sorry, baby," she adds.

I look at her confused. "Know what?" I ask. I wanted to her say it. Out loud. I wanted her to admit that she has knowingly allowed her disgusting man put his hands on me. And that she never did anything to stop it. Nothing. Removing her hands from mine she starts to take her scarf off, and I now realize how many layers she was actually wearing. I can't help but stare at her as she removes it slowly, my eyes focus on the bruises. I think I gasp. I can't be quite sure. Some kind of noise comes out of me. From deep in my gut, where I feel like I've been punched.

"Mom," I say, reaching out.

I put my hand up to my lips, shocked that I even knew how to say that word. The marks on her neck are all too familiar. I can tell that they are slightly yellow around the edges, a sign that they are starting to heal.

"When did this happen?" I ask, still surprised by my own compassion. She reaches up putting her hand over it.

"Oh, a few weeks ago." I look down at my hands. "But he's gone now, baby."

The anger in me starts to return. I stand up, my body towering over her. "So, it took him hitting you for you to kick his ass to the curb?"

A sorrowful look comes across her face but doesn't answer. "Why didn't you ever believe me?" I ask, trying to calm myself. "I never gave you a reason not to trust me."

"I know, sweetie," she answers, her voice cracking. "I wouldn't exactly call myself mother of the year."

I bite my lip to refrain myself from the venom my mouth wants to spew at her. She scoots even closer. "But from here on out, I want to make things better. I want to start anew."

I look at her confused. "Dr. Harris is releasing you, baby," she says reaching up and brushing my cheeks. "You get to come home."

Tears start prick at my eyes and as much as I try to stop them I can't.

"Ahh, sweetie," she says as she wipes them away. "Are those happy or sad tears?" Honestly, how can she even ask?

I turn my head so I no longer face her. I can't look at her anymore. My eyes land on the bookcase again. My mind goes to Sophia. To him. To them. Family.

"He said that I could leave?" I say turning back to her.

"Uh huh!"

Just like that I was free? How could he think I'm ready for this? I hear a knock on the door, Dr. Harris entering.

"Everything going OK in here?" he asks as he shuts the door behind him. I wipe away the tears I've been silently shedding from my face, suddenly embarrassed.

"Of course!" Elaina says her tone all too confident.

"Great," Dr. Harris says as he crosses his hands. "Well, if you don't mind I would like to speak to Phoenix alone."

Elaina nods and reaches over to give me a hug, my body stays rigid.

"I love you, sweetie," she whispers in my ear before kissing the side of my head. I don't respond. I haven't said those three words to anyone since the day of my father's death. She lets go of me and gets up, leaving Dr. Harris and I alone. I shake my head slightly, realizing I feel safer with him than I do my own flesh and blood. Dr. Harris sits down in the chair opposite me.

"How are you feeling, Phoenix?" he asks.

"Fine," I say confused by his question.

"Well, I am sure that your mother told you, but I have signed your release paperwork." Those words coming from his lips scare me even more.

"Dr. Young and I have talked quite extensively and we feel that your time here is no longer a necessity. However, I do strongly suggest that you continue intensive outpatient therapy."

I don't respond. My mind going in a million different directions.

"Since you are older than 18, I can't force you to go to your mother," he continues. "But I feel that rebuilding your relationship with her will be very beneficial."

I bite my lip. He stops talking, allowing me to gather my thoughts.

"I'm scared," I blurt out.

"I know you are. You have a long road to recovery, Phoenix. But you're ready to face the outside world. You can't stay in this bubble forever. Part of recovering is learning to be on the outside again. Learning to deal with fear and anger from everyday situations. You're ready for the next step," he says. "Your mother and I have talked at great length. I wouldn't be releasing you if he were still in the picture."

"OK," I say while nodding. I can stay with her until I find a job and then be on my own.

"Great," he says then stands.

"Do I have to go now?" I ask my nerves still high.

"No, she will be back tomorrow morning to pick you up. Give you some time to get your things together and to say goodbye."

Goodbye? My mind goes instantly to Rain and immediately I don't want to go. I stand up and nod.

"Thank you, Dr. Harris," I say.

He smiles. "How many times have I told you to call me Neil?"

"Not enough." I respond with a smile.

"Good luck to you, Phoenix," he says holding his hand out. "I'm always a phone call away."

I look down at his hand and then take it in mine. His handshake is firm. For some reason I feel like I am saying goodbye not only to him. Exiting the room the hospital looks completely different. Foreign. Didn't I just think of this as my safe place? I am glad when I see Elaina is talking with a nurse, so I just slip past her and head immediately for my room. When I open the door Rain is sitting upright, her outfit and hair perfect. A pout forms across her face and I can't help but laugh and shake my head.

"Of course you know," I say as I enter the room.

She stands up and puts her arms around me. "I am so happy for you, Phoenix."

"But what about you?" I ask.

She pulls back and waves it off. "I will be fine, just think how much bigger my room will be again."

I laugh as we both sit down on my bed. "So, she showed up, huh?"

I nod. "Was it weird seeing her?" I nod again. Unable to speak without the emotions crashing down again.

~

The last night in the hospital was my most restless. By around two in the morning I had given up and decide to roam the hallways which were eerily quiet at this hour. I haven't seen Donovan in a really long time. I wish he was here for me to say goodbye, but that would probably only make things worse. Turning the corner I decide to head outside, the building becoming stifling. As usual it's freezing out but I couldn't care less. Walking the length of the courtyard all I can think about is him. When I reach the fence I look out over the bay, seeing the lights of the Golden Gate shinning. I find myself staring at it, probably longer that I should have. It's in that moment I realize how much life has changed. How much I have changed. Maybe things really can be different. Maybe I can be a little like Scarlett.

I look up at the sky, almost hoping for an answer or something. Pulling myself away from the fence I head back inside, my arms wrapped around myself. Just as I reach inside I hear a large roll of thunder, it jarring me slightly.

~

Ten came way too f*cking quickly. Elaina had left behind some clothes for me yesterday and I would be lying if I wasn't excited to see my favorite shoes and a hooded sweatshirt. Maybe she has changed. When I had finished packing I gave Rain a hug, promising her that I would come back to visit her. Dr. Harris ushered me out, but stopped before we reached Elaina, who was now outside waiting. I can tell something is off with him and that worries me.

"Is everything OK?" I blurt out.

He smiles. "Yes, I'm sorry. I don't wish to worry you," he says as he pulls out a piece of paper. "I know that this may be very untoward, but I wanted to give you my phone numbers."

I look down, taking the piece of paper from him. He clears his throat before continuing. "There is my number for here…" he points to the first one. "And then at the bottom, my personal cell and home number. Please don't ever hesitate to call me if you need anything."

I look back up at him. Was there some "Save Phoenix" program I didn't know about?

"Thank you," I say, oddly warmed by the gesture. "Oh and I almost forgot." I reach around grabbing the book out of my bag. "Here, this belongs to you."

Dr. Harris takes it in his hands, a smile on his face. He traces his fingers across the cover as though retracing a memory and hands it back towards me.

"You take it. You haven't finished it have you?" he asks

I shake my head. "Well, then it's settled. Bring it back to me when you're done with it. I'd love to hear what you think of the story."

I reach up slowly taking it again. "Thank you…Neil," I say, a smile on my face. "I will take good care of it."

"You're most welcome, Phoenix. Take good care of yourself too."

When we make it through the automatic door, I immediately spot Elaina. She's sitting in the car and I must say I'm not surprised to see the white, piece of shit El Camino. I turn around to give Dr. Harris a smile before Elaina spots us, jumping out of the car to grab my things. She looks truly happy. I take one last scan of the hospital, knowing what I am looking for. When I don't see it I slide into the passenger's seat, Elaina shutting it behind me.

"Goodbye, Braeden," I whisper as we pull out, the view of the hospital out of sight.

~

As soon as we pulled out I could feel my nerves rising, the signs of a panic attack becoming apparent. Reaching over I crank the window down, the fresh air feels good. I close my eyes, knowing every turn from the hospital to the house, it being only a ten-minute drive. When I feel the vehicle come to a complete stop I keep my eyes closed for a prolonged period of time before opening them, one by one. The house looks exactly the same and for some reason that unsettles me. Elaina jumps out of the car and walks over to my door, opening it. I know that she is putting on a show and I try to not get caught up in her games. She goes to reach for my bag but I grab it first, not wanting her to tarnish it. When I stand in the driveway, I look over at the oil spots on the concrete where Carl's truck is usually parked.

Biting my lip, I make it up the steps to the front door, Elaina already inside. I'm glad she's not hovering. Once I get inside things start to feel foreign. I had only spent thirty days at the hospital, but it seemed like an eternity. I spot Elaina come out of the kitchen, two glasses in her hands. I know instantly what she has.

"It's still your favorite right?" she asks, handing one glass to me.

I shrug. "I didn't have much other than water in the hospital," I say taking a sip.

I didn't know whether to be happy or sad. This was my father's favorite drink when there was no beer in the house. But he did always tell me that Elaina used to make them for him. He always liked the way the sparkling water fizzed the orange juice. I take another sip, an awkward silence overtakes the room.

"Well, I think I am going to just go up to my room. That is, if it's still there."

I hear Elaina huff. "Of course it's still there."

I just nod while holding the drink up in the air. "Thanks for the drink."

I clutch my bag in my hand as I make my way up the stairs, keeping my eyes forward, fixated only on the direction of my room. I find myself becoming antsy so I start to take two steps at a time, reaching my door within seconds. Slamming it behind me I lean against the back of it, my chest heaving. When I have calmed down slightly I put my bag on my bed, looking around at everything. It all seems so unfamiliar. Like another version of me lived here previously. Pulling the book out, I reach over, opening my nightstand drawer, a small flask clanking against the side. I pick it up, unscrewing the lid and lift it up to my nose and inhale. Vodka.

Grabbing my cup, I empty its contents; figuring being drunk at this moment could only help things. I walk back over to my bed, grabbing the rest of the contents of my bag in my arms in one big fabric mess. Walking over to my closet I slide the doors open with my foot. As I go to throw them in I feel a sharp pain on my ankle. Dropping the pile I look down, a small ball of toilet paper lies just to the left of my foot. Reaching down I feel its sharp edges, my heart instantly sinking. With it still in my hands I walk back to my nightstand slowly and grab my cup, downing it without taking a breath.

I sit down on my bed, slowly unwrapping it, sheet by sheet, until the figure is exposed. Holding the seal in my hand, all the emotions I had been holding onto break loose. I heave, the tears coming too fast, my breathing not able to keep up. I instantly start to feel like I may pass out. Throwing the figurine onto my desk I pull the door open, heading to the bathroom. I turn the cold faucet on, splashing water on my face. When I start to feel a little better I sit on top of the toilet, my elbows rested on my knees, holding a damp towel on my face.

"Sweetie, are you OK?" I hear.

I pull the towel down to see Elaina standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Yeah," I mutter. "Just swallowed my drink down the wrong tube."

"Oh! I hate when that happens," she says before bouncing off.

"Yeah, me too," I respond, rolling my eyes.

I look around the room, seeing a faint burgundy stain on the wall. I sit up immediately, realizing they never replaced the mirror. Reaching up I feel the 3-inch scar along my clavicle. Getting up from the toilet I sprint out, slamming the door of the bathroom shut behind me, trying to close off the memory.

I spend the rest of the afternoon in my room, not really wanting to be with Elaina quite yet. Grabbing the last of the contents in my bag I fish out the chain, holding it between my fingers. Turning over the heart pendent, I read the inscription I now know by heart.

You are always my reason to smile.

Clasping the necklace onto my neck I can feel his love flow through me, warming my heart.

~

I spent as much time in my room as I could, but I knew I would have to go down for dinner eventually. I walked into the kitchen where Elaina was seated at the kitchen table, a glass in her hand.

"Whatcha got there?" I ask.

"Oh, Phoenix, I didn't hear you come in," she says, getting up from the chair and empties her glass into the sink.

"I see that you still drink," I say harshly.

I could still feel the warmth of the vodka flowing through my veins. Liquid courage. I know I am a hypocrite for taunting her about the very thing I resorted to, to calm my frayed mind but it just feels good to be bitchy to her right now. I need to maintain my wall of animosity. Whatever, she has it coming.

"I really am trying, sweetie, it's just hard…ya know?"

I roll my eyes while facing in the opposite direction. Pulling open the fridge I am not surprised by what I see.

"And I guess I will have to go grocery shopping."

"I figured we could go out!" she says, suddenly excited.

"I'm a little tired to go out in public, Elaina," I lie. I could find something to make here. I was experienced with making dinner out of nothing. Grabbing a thing of hamburger meat out of the fridge, I check the date. Surprisingly it's still good. Opening the pantry I grab a box of noodles and a jar of spaghetti sauce. When I finished cooking, I slid a plate to Elaina, who had yet to move from her spot at the table.

"Thanks, sweetie!" she exclaims. "You were always a better cook than me."

"You have to actually cook to learn how to cook," I snap.

She looks at me as though disappointed. Picking up my fork, I shove a huge amount of noodles into my mouth, hoping to stop the word venom. We eat mostly in silence, except for Elaina who feels the need to ask petty questions. When I clear my plate, I immediately stand up and wash it before putting it in the dishwasher.

"You know you don't have to wash it first, that is the purpose of the actual dishwasher."

I don't respond. "Well, I am going to bed," I shout as I round the corner of the kitchen, not waiting for her to answer.

When I get back to my room I shut the door behind me, locking it. Habit. I look over my room again, it feeling no more familiar than before. Pulling my body away I reach into the first drawer of my dresser and pull out a pack of matches. Striking one, I light the candle beside my bed and the one on my desk. Walking over to my windowsill I plug in the blue twinkle lights that I had hung years ago. Sliding open my nightstand again I pick up the book before lying down on my bed. Finding the place that I had bookmarked, I get lost in the world of 1861 Georgia all over again.

~

The smell of a snuffed out candle reaches my nose, it instantly awakening me. Looking over, I notice that the small votive on my nightstand has been blown out. I yawn loudly and stretch, pulling the open book off my chest. I reach over to set it down on my nightstand when I sense movement. I slowly shift my eyes to where my closet is. Looking back at me is a pair of eyes, his tall dark form now hovering over me.