A Brand New Ending

Chapter 8

Braeden



When I grabbed her hand, the feeling I felt was indescribable. I felt every emotion imaginable. Fear. Pain. Happiness. Sadness.

It was almost as though her emotions were flowing from her to me. There's something different about this girl. Something that just draws you in.

When she fainted I caught her in my grasp, making sure that her delicate body didn't hit the floor. Scooping her up in my arms I could tell that she was incredibly light, even for how small she is. As I walked down the hall with her in my arms I moved at a slow pace, almost as thought I was afraid I would wake her. She looked so peaceful. When I set her atop her bed I pulled the covers up and over her.

"Sleep tight, Phoenix," I whisper.

After I made my last rounds before my shift was over, I found myself at Rain and Phoenix's room. Standing outside the door, I push it open slowly. Rain's bed is empty, not something out of the ordinary. Looking to the bed on the left, I see a mass, her entire body covered by the blankets. My feet move me forward and I am now standing over her, watching her back rise and fall. Great, now I'm a f*cking stalker?

After a few minutes, I lean even more over her, noticing that tears are falling from her eyes even though they are closed. I hear her mutter something a couple times and then her eyes snap open.

"What do you want? Do you have my necklace?" she asks harshly.

"I can't give it to you, you know that," I respond softly.

I actually feel guilty telling her no. In a flash, she reaches up, grabbing my glasses off my face, throwing them hard into the opposite wall. I hear them crack. She rolls back over, pulling the covers back over herself.

"Leave me alone," she says, her voice muffled by the blanket.

Stepping away from her bed, I walk over, picking up what is left of my glasses. I look back at her once more before leaving the room.

~

Rubbing my eyes, I glance up at the clock, thankful to see it has finally reached seven. Running my hands through my hair, I put my foot on the step of the trash can, dumping the shards of my glasses in and quickly release my foot to let the trash can lid slam shut. I stand there, just staring at it.

A push on my shoulder snaps me out of my trance. I look over, seeing someone standing next to me, the person holding out something to me.

"Thank you," I say, opening the envelope, making sure all the cash was there.

"Yup," Bret responds.

"Did you buy milk?" I ask him.

He just looks at me, a dumbfounded expression on his face. I roll my eyes.

"I'll pick some up on the way home," I mutter.

I look up at the clock again.

"Who are you covering for?" I ask, knowing this is not his usual shift.

"Daniel needed to go to some family bullshit," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh," I say.

"Did we get any new basket cases in last night?" he asks.

A wave of anger flows through my veins. A man like him shouldn't be working here.

"Yeah, we got a new girl, room eight," I say softly.

He perks his eyebrow up, his mood changing.

"Well, I'm off…guess I'll see you at home," I say before leaving to head to the staff room. Pulling open my locker, I hang up my ID tag and pull my book down from the shelf, stuffing it into my bag. Throwing the bag over my chest, I head out the back door into the open air. The wind has picked up, making it even colder. I start to make my way home. The early-morning streets are busy with people getting to work, everyone coming and going in all directions. I contemplate taking the bus but I know it will just be more crowded.

I continue to walk, happy when I round Market Street because that meant home was not far off. While waiting for the crosswalk to change, I look over at a small café with a young brunette sitting outside reading a book. My mind instantly turns to Phoenix. Her face when I refused to give back her necklace. The feeling when her fingers delicately grazed my hand. I can't explain this feeling.

The sound of beeping reaches my ear and I look up, the crosswalk sign blinking orange. I go to jump off the curb when a piece of paper being blows across the street wraps around my ankle. I kick my leg out as I run across the crosswalk trying to shake it loose but can't seem to make it budge.

When I get to the other side of the street, I reach down and peel off the paper. I stride over to the nearest trashcan, planning to toss it instead of letting it clutter the streets, but I stop. I take time to really look at the folded piece of paper, noticing the drawing on the front. It's a hand-sketched heart, cracking down the middle. There are nails stuck in it and the cracks are repaired by stitches, but there were more cracks opening in another spot. Something about the drawing moves me and I continue to stare at it. I can feel the pain behind the drawing. Looking around me, I slide the paper in my pocket, heading into the small corner store near the apartment.

Walking into the back, I pull open the door, grabbing a gallon of milk and head up to the register, but not before stopping off in the cookie and cracker aisle. With my head still facing forward, I grab the colorful rectangular box, a sly smile on my face in the process. Definitely need these today. I make it to the cash register and put my things up on the counter.

"Morning." The cashier smiles and starts to ring up my purchases. "There's going to be a shortage of these if you keep eating them like you do."

I just smile, shaking my head lightly. I pull out some cash, handing it to him.

"Hey, how is your daughter's strep throat?" I ask him.

"Much better. Please tell your father thank you for getting her an appointment so quick," he says.

"Will do." I smile. "Well. I'll be seeing you around." I wave back to him.

Pushing the store door open I step back into the cold, sliding the milk carton into my bag. I hold the other box in my hand by its string, feeling like a child again.

When I reach our apartment building, I opt to take the elevator instead of the stairs, my body beyond exhausted from the long shift. Sliding my keys into the front door, I open it, shut and lock it behind me. I turn around, sighing immediately. Our apartment looks like a tornado went through it, shit everywhere.

"F*cking Bret," I mutter under my breath.

Walking over to the fridge, I put the milk in it, immediately turning around and head to my room. Sliding my backpack off, I place it on the back of my desk chair and plop my body down on my bed, not bothering to change out of my scrubs. Reaching over, I grab the box of crackers from my bedside, sliding my fingers underneath the tab, opening it slowly. I grab a cracker, checking to see what animal it is. Giraffe.

I bite the head off first, something I've done with every cracker since as far back as I can remember. I always use to say it was so they couldn't feel the pain. I laugh at the notion. I eat a few more crackers before closing the box. Setting it on my nightstand, I continue to lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. After only a few minutes I find myself having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I fall into a deep sleep, my body trying to make up the deficit that I have accumulated over the week of working double shifts. My body may be asleep, but my mind, however, is not.

~

"MOM!" I shout when I enter the house, clutching onto a piece of paper in my hands.

I pull my backpack off, hanging it on the hook by the front door. Looking around the house, I see no sign of her. Turning around I look up at my dad who is just walking in the front door.

"I'm sure she is just somewhere where she can't hear us," he assures, ushering me to head upstairs.

"You go check up there and I will check the backyard. I know she wanted to pick some of the vegetables from the garden."

"OK!" I say, fleeing up the stairs as though this is a game of hide and seek.

I head immediately into their bedroom.

"Moooommmm!" I shout again, waiting for her to pop around the corner at any moment. "I got an A on my spelling test!" I say, waving the piece of paper in the air.

But there is nothing but silence. Shrugging, I head back downstairs, pulling open the slider to the backyard. Hoping down the granite steps, I make my way around the pool side, trying to see my dad down in the garden. I can see the white of his doctor's coat, the sun shining off his dirty blond hair. I stand up on my tippy toes to see if she is with him. She isn't. When he reaches me, he gives me a soft smile, but I can tell something is not right.

"Why don't you go inside and start your homework, I'm sure she just went out for fresh air," he says, squeezing my shoulder.

"OK," I respond, turning around to head back into the house.

Walking over to the fridge, I put my test in a clip on the fridge. I grab my backpack, set it down on the kitchen table, and pull out my workbook. When I get halfway through the first page, something pops in my head. The shed.

I fly up out of my chair, still in hide-and-seek mode. I run back outside and across the yard, reaching the shed in record time. Grabbing the door handle, I pull open the door. The inside is dark due to the lack of windows. Fumbling around on the wall, I find the light switch. After the lights flicker on there is no sound, except for the shrill of my screams. It's her. Her delicate body gently swaying, her feet not touching the ground.

~

My body jolts, waking me up instantly. There are beads of moisture on my brow, my scrubs damp from night sweats. I rub my eyes, not affected by my dream, it's one that I have constantly. I guess it's more of a memory than a dream. Shifting over, I look at the clock. Four o'clock in the afternoon.

I groan, grabbing my phone out of my bag. I dial Donovan's number to see what the plan is for tonight. It rings a few times, eventually leading to his voicemail. I decide to not leave a message. Setting the phone back down, I pull my body off the bed and head to the shower.

I look at myself in the mirror, yawning loudly. Pulling my shirt off I throw it in the corner of the room. I go to do the same to my pants, but my finger comes across something in the pocket. Reaching in, I pull out the paper I had forgotten about. I stare down at the drawing again, still taken aback as much as I was the first time I saw it. I let the shower run and let the room fill with steam. Sliding my fingers between the folds, I open the paper, noticing there are words handwritten on the back.

Life is a notion that now sickens me. If I had wings, I would fly free. But since I don't, I guess I will choose to jump instead of float.

The note has no signature or indication that it was meant to be delivered to anyone in particular and I find myself wondering how it came to be on the streets of the city. The words are heavy in my heart, the drawing leaving me speechless. The feelings of when my mother took her own life haunt me every day. Suicide doesn't just affect those that decide to remove themselves from this world, but each and every person who loved them.

Folding up the note again, I leave the bathroom and head back into my bedroom. I walk over to a corkboard on my wall and pull out an unoccupied push pin. Reaching up, I put the folded note up on the board, sticking the pin back in the top, making sure to not pierce any of the drawing. Something about that drawing pulls me in, the words swirling around in my head over and over. It's as though I can feel what they felt. I stare at it for another second before turning around and heading back to the shower.