by E. V. White
“It’s free for you. Donʼt worry about it,” she said, smiling.
Emily looked at her confused. How could it possibly be free? She had never been so lucky in her entire life and could not believe that things had suddenly started to move in her favour.
“Why?” She asked again.
The woman smiled but did not answer.
“Come on, your boyfriend is waiting to take you there,” she changed the subject of their conversation.
Emily looked dazed.
“Who?” She asked in disbelief.
“Alex,” the woman said, not noticing her surprise. “Heʼs waiting for you,” she explained.
Emily felt completely bewildered. She could not imagine why Alex had said such a thing but was happy he did. She felt safe with him around. She knew she should not count on him; in her life, everyone had abandoned her, including her parents. But, she was tired of fighting, so she simply accepted the idea that others decided for her. It sounded like a good plan, so she just went along with it.
Alex was waiting in the corridor outside the door where Emily was getting ready. He waited for her, as he waited for many other things in his life. To get better for example. To no longer feel that void in his chest, which he had tried to fill with alcohol for years. To have the opportunity to do the right thing finally, to remedy the numerous mistakes he had made. That was what Alex did in his life: he waited. When he was be able to do something for Emily, he seized the moment, making a mistake again. Maybe this time though he was luckier as he was granted a second opportunity to make amends for the wrong done. He was doing it, or at least, he hoped to be able to.
Emily left the room on a wheelchair, pushed by the woman. She was pale and looked tired but smiled when she saw him. Alexʼs lips arched upwards on his face and enlightened him.
“Shall we get out of here?” He asked as he took hold of the wheelchair handles and pushed her.
She nodded. Alex took her to the admission’s desk and called a taxi while she signed the documents for her discharge. When he returned he went to the woman who had accompanied them up to that point.
“Thank you,” he whispered almost embarrassed.
“Take good care of her,” she replied with a smile.
Alex nodded but did not promise anything. He did not know whether he would be able to do such a thing, but would certainly try.
He walked back to Emily and, after having placed her coat on her back, walked her out where the taxi was waiting for them. He helped her get up, get in and settle down; after giving the address to the taxi driver, he sat beside her while keeping a certain distance. After a few minutes, when they were still around the hospital, Emily gave in to tiredness and leaned on Alexʼs shoulder, surprising him. After a few moments of hesitation, the boy wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He was terrified her reaction would be like that night at his house but her gesture, a few seconds earlier, had reassured and encouraged him. In fact, Emily snuggled in his arms and closed her eyes, leaving them in a state of peace during their entire journey to the clinic.
The clinic appeared exactly as it was depicted on the brochure: spacious, bright, clean, and surrounded by a green park. However, what the pamphlet did not illustrate was the desperate, sometimes empty expression of the people who populated it. The nurses seemed kind and supportive, at least in front of the newly admitted guests, but the people inside had a blank stare; they had no sparkle in their eyes. Alex shivered. If there was one thing that had him convinced Emily could do it, it was her eyes. In them, he saw her will to fight. Should that place ever take that fire inside of her, he would drag her out by force.
Alex escorted Emily into her room. The room was small but bright. Cream walls, white sheets for the bare bed without embellishments on a simple frame. An overstuffed dark blue armchair and a small round table fixed to the floor were the only things in the room in addition to a built-in wardrobe without any doors. There were no curtains on the windows, and when he approached them, he found them sealed. They could not be opened in any way and a feeling of anguish overwhelmed him powerfully. Studying the room again, though, he understood that the austerities of it were not a punishment for its guests; rather, they were means of keeping them safe. Nothing in the room could be used to hurt themselves either voluntarily or involuntarily. His heart sank when he thought of how difficult it would be for Emily
The girl sat on the bed. Alex looked at her while she grasped her coat tightly and, at that moment, he realised that she had nothing else to wear except for what he had brought her that morning. He made the decision at once that he would have to go buy her something later.
“Is everything fine?” He asked feeling apprehensive.
Emily smiled and nodded. She was probably only trying to reassure him, but the frightened look she cast betrayed her.
“They gave me so much stuff in the hospital that Iʼm even higher than when I arrived,” she tried to comfort him.
Alex smiled. For the first time in days, a real smile spread across his face; a smile that showed his slightly crooked front teeth that made him appear a little more human: proof he was not an angel walking on earth. And, so, there it was. What made her different from the others in Alexʼs eyes: the sarcasm and the irony with which she faced life despite being in one of the worst situations that could ever happen to her. It was what helped Alex convince himself that maybe she wanted to be saved.
“I have to leave for a few hours. Can you do without me for a while?” He asked as he headed towards the door.
She nodded again.
“I survived a lifetime by myself; do you think I canʼt do for a few hours without a babysitter? Anyway, I don’t think Iʼll never be really alone in here,” she remarked glancing around.
Alex smiled and left the room. As soon as he walked down the hall, he felt all the fatigue get the better of him. The last few weeks had flown like a rapid descent into a vortex of nightmares with eyes open and bad choices that led him to reach an abyss that was unfathomable. At that moment, though, he needed to think about Emilyʼs clothes. Then he would try to find a solution for everything else.
Emily was lying on the bed, still wrapped in her coat. She did not want to take it off because she was starting to feel chilly and yet her forehead was dripping with sweat. She had goose bumps. She was scared, she knew it was one of the withdrawal symptoms, or at least she thought it was. Nothing like it had never happened to her. Usually her muscles and bones would hurt and, when she went without a dose for a long period, she would start to hallucinate. This time it was different. It seemed to her as if someone was slowly ripping her stomach out. She began to feel nauseated and soon started to have the urge to vomit as well. She was leaning on her side with her head dangling off the bed when a nurse came in and covered her with a blanket. It did not make a difference; she was still cold.
“Please, I’m not feeling well,” she kept repeating to the nurse between one retching and the other.
She did not even know why she continued pleading with him as he relentlessly proceeded only in answering that it would soon get better. At that moment of delirium in which she found herself, she sensed that someone else had entered the room and panic took control of her mind. When this person came up to her and touched her, she began to scream, just as she had done with Alex. Her hell was about to start.
Alex arrived at the clinic later in the evening. He was not supposed to visit anymore but he had to give Emily her clothes so they let him go to her room. When he reached the top of the stairs, he became aware that something was terribly wrong: the screams were audible from where he stood. He ran to Emilyʼs room; when he was in front of it, all the fears from his worst nightmares materialised. It was her.
The clothes dropped from his grip. He tried to open the door but it was locked. He looked inside through the small glass on the door and saw a nurse sitting on a chair watching Emily, who was presumably the ball on the bed as she was too curled up for him to identify her distinctly. He banged v
iolently on the wooden door.
“Let me in,” he shouted.
The nurse looked at him but did not move; he just gave him a sign that he could not come in. Alex was stricken with panic. He began to pound more violently against the door.
“I want to make sure she’s all right,” he screamed.
The confusion generated by the boy did not pass unnoticed and soon an attendant came and dragged him away from the door.
“What are you doing? You can’t go in. You shouldn’t even be here,” he stated sternly but without yelling.
“They let me in, I had to bring her clothes,” he said pointing to the paper bag on the floor in front of the door.
When he stretched out his hand to point at the bag, he realised he was visibly trembling. The sense of anxiety that possessed him almost made him kneel on the floor. It was not a shaking that his current condition could justify; it was much more: he was unable to control his limbs. He had a problem. He realised then that his drinking issue was more serious than he had ever thought. The panic, the hand tremors, the nausea and the need to drown those feelings into something strong were red flags that he had always ignored but, at that moment, hearing Emily screaming inside that room, he became aware that he was not different from her. He leaned against the door of the room and slumped to the ground.
“Are you all right? Are you stoned too?” The attendant asked him, bending down towards him.
Alex shook his head.
“I just need a little time. It’s been hellishly intense lately,” he tried to sound as alert as possible. “Iʼm just tired, I haven’t slept in days,” he added.
The boy looked around, perhaps worried that someone would come.
“You can’t stay here. Go home, get a good night’s sleep and come back to visit her when you feel better,” he suggested.
“Please, let me stay. I swear I wonʼt make any trouble, okay?” Alex pleaded. “Pretend you haven’t seen me,” he added almost desperate.
The man looked around then stood still.
“If you get me in trouble, I swear, Iʼll kick you out myself,” he said in a serious tone, but not angrily.
Alex smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, you’ll most likely throw it in my face later that I didn’t kicked you out. It’s not going to be a pretty sight sitting here and waiting. Trust me,” he informed him, pointing to the door where the girl was still screaming.
“Iʼll survive,” said Alex.
The man shook his head before walking away.
“I wouldnʼt be so sure about that,” the attendant whispered to himself.
Alex watched him leave and leaned his head on the door. Emily had stopped screaming, perhaps because she had no voice left, perhaps because the nurse had sedated her. She was complaining, as if something physically hurt and he was there, helpless in front of everything that was happening to her and incapable of even rebuilding his own life.
The spasms in her legs woke Emily up. She opened her eyes wide when a sharp pain in the muscles left her out of breath. She had already felt pain before while experiencing withdrawal symptoms, but never like this. She felt she was made of burning coals instead of flesh and bones. She opened her mouth wide and breathed in deeply; she needed air. Her throat was on fire as if she had cried for hours. Maybe she actually had. The man who had been looking after her since her arrival had now dozed off on the armchair with the book he had been reading on his legs and the dim light that illuminated the pages still on the floor. It was dark outside. She had no idea what time it was, what day it was; but it seemed to be dead in the night. She felt like she had had nightmares for days. Her stepfather had entered her room, she was sure of it; she saw him talking to the nurse who was now asleep. He was probably the one responsible for her current situation, the one who had beaten her until every part of her body hurt. On the other hand, she might have only imagined it, she could not say. She could no longer tell the difference between reality and hallucinations.
She tried to remove the blankets she was in need of earlier when she was dying of cold because at that very instant the heat was suffocating her. The only thing that remained unchanged, though, was the sweat that soaked her shirt. After several attempts, she succeeded in disentangling herself from the mass of blankets and discovered that they had removed the coat Alex had put on her.
She thought about the boy and wondered if he had returned for her or if he had simply left her there. The very idea that he too had abandoned her made her feel so terribly bad that she started crying. She did it silently, so as not to wake the man sitting on the armchair.
The room was smothering her. She wanted to get out, get some fresh air and reduce the heat she was feeling. She trudged towards the door: her legs shooting pain at the slightest movement, a couple of times they gave in, making her latch on to the wall. When she reached the door handle, she found it locked. She wanted to scream but did not have enough strength. She tried to peek through the small glass window that allowed her to see through the thick layer of wood. No one was around but a bundle leaning against the door caught her attention. It took her several seconds to focus and realise that the bundle was a person, partly spread out on the floor of the corridor, probably asleep.
The little light filtering through the windows of the corridor allowed her to recognise the mane of blond hair that she had got used to seeing around her already. Alex was asleep out there; he probably slipped forward, ending up with his face against the cold floor. Emily sat on the ground and strained to pass her fingers under the crack of the door to try to touch him but it was too narrow even for her skinny fingers, which were unable to slip through the gap.
The cold floor she felt through the tracksuit bottoms gave her a bit of relief, although her muscles continued to ache. She slid slowly and lay down on the floor, trying to close her eyes and stop thinking about anything. She placed her palm on the door to make Alex feel closer to her. She sank once again into a state of unconsciousness that could not even be defined as sleep.
*
Alex woke up hearing Emilyʼs cries. He opened his eyes and saw that the sun had not yet risen although it was dawning. His bones felt stiff from sleeping on the floor, which he realised had become a very uncomfortable habit. He sat up and put his ear against the door. He could hear the moans coming from within. He stood up and tried to figure out where she was. He saw her lying on the floor in front of the door and thought that she was feeling ill. He began to lose control and started to knock insistently on the glass that separated them. The nurse who had fallen asleep on the armchair woke up and, once he saw the girl on the ground, jumped up and went to help her go back to bed.
Alex felt a lump in his throat that increasingly became tighter and tighter; he started breathing heavily. For a few interminable seconds, the girl on the ground was not Emily but rather Audrey. The image of the girl in front of him, clouded by the tears, transformed to that of his sister, lifeless on the floor thirteen years ago. The same desperation at thirteen with which he had tried to wake Audrey up and failed swept over him. Just as then, Alex was not able to do anything. On impulse, he put his hand to his chest where his tattoo was located. He wanted to imprint on his skin the pain that his sister had left inside of him: the bleeding heart, his, on which a butterfly, his sister, rested. A beautiful, perfect creature, fragile and delicate at the same time, living a very short life. He returned to sit on the floor, leaning against the door, and stayed there to listen to Emilyʼs despair, feeling helpless.
A middle-aged man stood in front of Alex. The boy raised his gaze and studied him for a few seconds. The man looked at him without saying a word as it took him a while to understand that the man wanted to enter Emilyʼs room; hence, he got up and let him pass.
“You aren’t allowed to stay here,” he informed him.
“Iʼm not leaving,” Alex responded, certain the man would not actually send him away.
The man smiled and searched for the
room keys to enter.
“We assumed that much. Youʼre lucky the hospital psychologist thinks it might be more productive to have you here during her detox, otherwise your bum would be out there in the snow by now,” explained the man.
Alex turned his gaze out the window and noticed that a few inches of snow had fallen during the night. Not very much, in truth, but enough to cover the lawn outside the centre. He was relieved that Emily was inside and not out there.
“It could take up to a week before these episodes become less punishing. Do you really want to be witness to them?” The man asked.
Alex nodded his head because he was not so sure that his answer would come out with a firm voice. He had never faced such a thing in his life. He was too young to have understood what was happening to his sister so he never recognised how much she actually needed help. With Emily, he understood, but was clueless as how to give it.
The doctor walked over to the nurse. They were talking about something that Alex could not overhear, probably about Emilyʼs condition. The boy was too focused on the slender trembling figure on the bed to try to catch something. She was so fragile, helpless and alone in that small bed she could not even fill. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open. She was breathing heavily and often complained.
“Can’t you give her something? Can’t you see sheʼs not well?” Alex asked, not taking his eyes off her.
The doctor and the nurse turned towards him. It was the older man who let him come into the room who started to explain.
“It’s expected, for her to act this way. Unfortunately, there are no shortcuts to come out of this,” he said.
For the boy it was not enough. To him it sounded more of a punishment for not being strong enough to resist the addiction. When the two left the room, Alex went to the bed and knelt beside it. Emilyʼs face was covered in sweat, her hair plastered to her face, her shirt dripping wet on her white skin.
He took the towel that was on the table beside the bed and went to the basin of water that was set down nearby. He soaked a corner of the cloth and began wiping the girlʼs face. A hint of irritation popped across Emilyʼs face. Alex took away the towel and tried to warm it up with one hand, while with the other he swept away a few dark locks from her face. He tried to pass over the fabric warmed by his own heat on her face. Emily did not move. As a result, he continued washing away the sweat and drying her for what seemed like an eternity.
