A Brand New Ending

Chapter 7

Phoenix



I swear that my life is becoming the same scene over and over. I wake up in a hospital bed again, all the tubes and pads reattached. I still feel pretty drowsy, and I notice that my arms are restrained against the bed. I look to my left, noticing the same doctor next to me. He is writing inside a chart, and notices that I am awake.

"Hello, again," he says with a smile.

I don't respond, my nerves still on edge.

"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier, I am Dr. Harris."

He holds his hand out and I look at him confused. He laughs lightly, almost like he is nervous.

"Sorry," he states. "The arm restraints are just protocol."

He reaches over, letting me loose.

"I can trust you, right?" he asks.

I nod my head as I look up at him shyly. When he reaches over me, I tense up. I don't think I'll ever get use to being in a room alone with a man. When he stands back up I'm able to relax a little. He opens up what I presume is my file and furrows his brow while he reads it. I swallow the growing lump in my throat.

"There is something I want to talk to you about," he starts. "We both know why you are here, Phoenix, and I just want to ask you a few questions."

"OK," I say softly.

"When you came to us, you had a mild case of hypothermia from the cold water, but once we got you out of your wet clothes and some fluids in you, you vastly improved."

My heart beats faster.

"However, when a female nurse examined your body for other injuries, we noticed multiple scars and bruises along your body."

I can feel my throat starting to close, the anxiety growing. I'm pretty sure that he can gauge my reaction because moments later, he pulls up a chair and sits down next to me.

"I want you to know that anything you tell me will stay between us. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

I remain silent. Looking down at my arms, I remember every scar and how I obtained them. I open my mouth, only to close it abruptly. He probably thinks they are self inflicted.

I look over at him, wanting to tell him, wanting someone else to know what that a*shole has done to me. Just as I go to speak, the door opens slowly. We both turn our heads and what I see shoots a wave of fear through me. Elaina and Carl squeeze through the door, her face lighting up when she sees me. But I can't take my eyes off of him. I shift in my bed, a pool of tears forming in my eyes, my vision blurred because of it.

"Excuse me," Dr. Harris says, standing up from his chair. "Can I help you?"

"No," I hear Carl says harshly.

"We're here to see our daughter," I hear Elaina state.

Our daughter.

"Oh, well, welcome," Dr. Harris says, holding out his hand.

When Carl reaches out, my stomach wrenches.

"Oh, sweetie," Elaina says as she sits down on the bed, reaches out, and starts playing with my hair. "You gave us quite a fright."

Liar. I know that this is all a show for the doctor, Elaina has never cared about me before, so why would she start now? I look over at Dr. Harris and he is directly staring back at me, a worried expression on his face.

"Listen, man, can we get some privacy?" Carl tells Dr. Harris.

I cringe at his words. I continue to look up at Dr. Harris, silently begging him to stay.

"I'll just give you guys a few minutes," he says, sliding past Carl.

Alone. With the people that caused me to be here. As soon as Dr. Harris leaves the room, Elaina sits upright, removing her hand from my hair.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she says in a harsh tone. "How dare you put this on Carl and me?"

"On you?" I shout.

"We have been worried sick about you," Carl says in a raised voice.

His voice makes me nauseous. Tears instantly start to fall and I can't seem to hold them back. I want them to leave; I never want to see their faces again, but I have now realized there is no escaping. I notice a small women coming through the door and Elaina instantly puts back on her mother act.

"Shhh…there, there…" she coos, while rubbing her hands on my shoulder.

I begin to feel nauseous. Minutes later, I see Dr. Harris come back in the room, my nerves calming a little. He can't hurt me with all these people here. Dr. Harris and the women who entered earlier are now standing at the foot of my bed.

"She is just having a hard time," Elaina says, turning around to face Dr. Harris.

Carl steps closer to me, reaching out to put his hand on my shoulder in a fake attempt at consoling me. Instinctively, I jolt my upper body sideways, everyone clearly noticing my reaction. Everything falls silent except for those god damn machines. For once I welcome the noise.

"Phoenix," Dr. Harris says after a long pause. "This is Dr. Young, she would like to speak with you."

I swallow as I try to wipe the tears from face. I keep my eyes on the doctors, not wanting to look at Elaina or Carl.

"I'm sorry, but we need to take Phoenix into another room so I am afraid that you will have to leave this room while she is away," Dr. Harris says to them.

I hold back a smile. It's the best news I have heard all day.

"And may I ask what you are going to be asking my daughter, as her mother I have the right to know," Elaina says harshly.

"I am afraid I can't divulge that, we have a strict doctor-patient confidentiality agreement."

"That's f*cking bullshit," I hear Carl say, his voice sounding agitated.

Elaina puts her hand on his forearm as if to comfort him. She turns her attention back to me.

"We'll be back later sweetie," she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before getting up from the bedside. As I watch them walk closer and closer towards the door, I feel I can breathe again.

"Phoenix," Dr. Young says. "If you wouldn't mind…"

I pull the sheets off myself, pivoting my feet around so that they touch the floor. Dr. Harris helps me, my body still extremely tired from the medication they gave me earlier. I don't retract from his touch this time. When we leave the room, I glance out at the rest of the hospital, a million things going on around me. I look down the hallway, a pair of dark eyes glaring back at me.

Carl is standing at the end of it and he is staring straight back at me. A chill runs down the length of my spine, my knees becoming wobbly. It's like he is in my head because I know exactly what that stare means. I'm dead if I tell.

He slips on his jacket before exiting out the front of the hospital. I shift my attention back to the doctors.

"Were going to be in here," Dr. Young says, holding a door open for me. "This is my office."

I walk over slowly and enter the room. Inside is a nicely-furnished office and I instantly know what I am doing here. She's a psychologist and I tried to commit suicide. The next hour goes by slowly, my heavy eyelids drooping from time to time. So many questions about how I feel and why I felt like I had no way out. I give short answers, just wanting to get through this as fast as possible. That is until she asks me about my scars and bruises. All I see is his eyes, the hair on my arms standing up. I wrap my arms around myself.

"These are not self inflicted," she says, gently putting her hand on mine.

I jump back a little.

"You can tell me," she declares.

Easier said than done. I can feel my body starting to shake but I remain silent. She sits back in her chair, clearly disappointed.

"Well, as your assigned therapist, I think it would be good for you to spend some time at a specialized hospital."

I snap my head up.

"The f*cking insane asylum?" My mouth blurts out.

"It's a psychiatric hospital and I think that will be best for you," she states.

"Do I have a choice?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"I think this is what is best for you and your family," she repeats.

I roll my eyes.

"Whatever," I say, crossing my arms.

As long as I don't have to go home.

~

When I leave her office I begin to panic. What was I going to do now? The idea of the psychiatric hospital was making me nauseas. Fear of the unknown. When I get back to my room things move fast. Once Dr. Harris releases me I am asked to get dressed.

"I will be your attending physician over there as well, and I will be tracking your progress."

"OK," I say, feeling slightly more relaxed.

"Take care of yourself, Phoenix," he says.

"Thanks, Dr. Harris."

"Please, call me Neil," he says with a smile. What's with the special treatment?

I can't help but return one.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Phoenix," he says, before leaving the room.

When I get outside, I am ushered into the back of an ambulance, my heart is racing. I've only ever seen psychiatric hospitals in movies before and they often looked more like haunted houses than actual hospitals. The ride over is short and before I know it, I am being taken in through the patient entrance.

I look around and become dazed. The hospital is quiet and it's still dark out even though it is early morning. The person from the ambulance leaves me, a nurse from behind the counter greeting me.

"You must be Phoenix Harper?" she asks, sounding like she actually cares.

I nod, while swallowing the lump in my throat. I can feel my body shaking ever so slightly. Once I get signed in, I am ushered into a different room.

"Here we are," a new lady says to me, handing me folded clothes. "This is what you are allowed to wear here. You can have some of your own clothing as long as they contain no strings."

I almost ask her why but I catch myself. Strangulation. I stand in the middle of the room, realizing she isn't going to leave. As I slowly start to undress, I begin to feel like a prisoner. I am not to be trusted. Once I'm changed, I'm moved into yet another room. I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest any moment. After a few minutes, the woman leaves and in walks a man. The first thing I notice is his eyes. Even though they are hiding behind a pair of square framed glasses, I can see the electrifying green from behind them. And his smile…there are no words to describe how it makes me feel. A sensation I have never felt before now. My nerves instantly settle, the feeling unfamiliar to me. His demeanor has the same effect on me as Dr. Harris'. I stand there in my clothes, feeling extremely exposed due to their paper-like state.

"Good morning, Phoenix," he says, setting the box down on the counter. He shifts on his feet. "I am just going to go through your belongings, to make sure everything is here for when you leave."

I fold my arms around my torso, as though I am trying to comfort myself. He starts to pull out everything, his hands all over my stuff. I can feel my cheeks becoming warm, but then he picks up a certain item. The only thing that is mine. Something that hasn't been tainted by anyone else. I reach up and touch my throat, not even realizing that they had taken it off at the hospital. A flash of my childhood comes across my mind.

~

The glow of the candles lights up the kitchen with a soft light. I can hear the rain bouncing off the roof and the tree tops swaying in the wind. Looking down at the cake in front of me, I can't help but smile. It's barely standing because the layers of the cake have started to slide apart. He spent all day in the kitchen making this for me, refusing to let me help at all. There was really only one problem.

"Dad, I'm turning 15, not 11," I say, pointing to the number of candles on top of the cake.

He looks down at it.

"I know, I just didn't get to store to buy more," he says, with disappointment is his voice. I laugh.

"It's ok, dad."

"Are you sure you don't want to invite anyone over? Pretty boring here with your old dad," he says, elbowing me.

"No, I'm kinda enjoying it just being you and I…”

After I blow out the candles we both spend the next hour in the kitchen, eating cake and just talking. My father and I were always close. When we finish, I stand up and start stacking up the dishes. He reaches out, putting his hand on my forearm.

"We can do those later," he says. "I want to give you your present, sweetie."

"OK."

We both get up from the table and head into the living room. On the coffee table is a small box, horribly wrapped I might add, with a bright pink bow on top. I walk over, sitting down on the couch waiting for my father to come. A few minutes later, he appears, a coffee mug in hand.

"Go ahead, sweetie," he says, gesturing toward the package.

I lean over, grabbing it off the table. Sliding my fingers between the paper, I rip it open, the bow falling to the floor. Inside is a small jewelry box. I can tell it's old by the yellow-tinted coloring of the box. Opening up the top I see a small golden chain. Lifting it up out the box, I now see the small heart pendant attached to it. Nelson walks over to me, sitting down beside me on the couch, gently taking it from me.

"It was my mother's," he starts.

Leaning his arms over my head, he puts it on me, clasping it in the back.

"I promised her when I had a daughter I would pass it on, but only when she responsible enough to take care of it."

I could feel myself wanting to cry. Once it was on, I shifted back around to face him and we both remain silent for a second. He clears his throat.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you I am very proud of you, Phoenix, and what a wonderful woman you have become."

"Come on, dad, you don't have to be so...serious," I say nudging him.

He sits upright, trying to regain his composure.

"I'm going to go get a refill, you want some?" he asks.

"I don't think you are supposed to offer your 15 year old daughter coffee. Especially at nine o'clock at night." I laugh.

"Oh, right," he says, looking down at the cup.

I just stare at him for a few seconds.

"I love you, dad," I say.

"Love you too, kiddo," he says, a smile on his face.

~

I pull myself out of my memories, watching this boy clutch onto the thing most dear to me in his hands. I hold back the tears, turning my head to the side, hoping to hide my emotions from this stranger. He continues to pull out my items although there are very few since I wasn't planning on living. He writes everything down on a piece of paper and then hands the clipboard to me.

"Please sign here." He points.

Reaching out, I take the clipboard from him, my fingertips brushing across his briefly. It's now that I can really see his face. His dark brown hair and his strong jaw line. His beautiful lips. I read over what he has written and my heart instantly races. I look up at him, thoroughly upset.

"I can't keep any of this with me?" I say loudly.

A look of guilt comes on his face.

"I'm afraid not," he says.

"Why, because I'm gonna use it to f*cking kill myself?" I cry out, grabbing the necklace off the table.

"It's for your own safety," he says softly.

Reaching out, he puts his hand on mine, trying to pry it gently from my fingertips. At our first full contact the hair on my arm stands up, goose bumps following shortly. A single tear starts to fall and all I feel is my body fall, my vision gone.