Figure 8 (2 page)

“Hello Miss Riley, I’m your nurse today, we met earlier but I think you were a bit confused to notice.” She smiles. “My name is Belinda and if you need anything at all, just press the little button next to your bed and I will be with you as soon as I can. I am just going to take your blood pressure and draw some blood samples then the doctor is going to come in and have a talk with you.”

“That’s great, thank you,” I say humbly. I am now at the stage of being embarrassed by my actions and could easily crawl up my own arse when I think about what I have done. “When will I be able to go home?” I ask hopefully.

“The doctor will be able to tell you more. We need to get your blood tests back to make sure the drugs have left your system and to determine the risk of hepatotoxicity.” I stare at her blankly. She notices my reaction and elaborates. “It’s just fancy talk for making sure your kidneys and liver are functioning properly. We had to put a small tube into your throat to get the charcoal down, so that will be sore for a few days.” My hand automatically reaches up to stroke my neck.

I watch as she turns around to fiddle with some little things on a tray. I see her take the needle out of a plastic package and I suddenly feel really sick. I squirm as the needle goes into my arm and I watch paralysed as she pushes the little bottle on to the top, I can’t seem to look away as the red liquid flows into it. I hate needles, I remember the day I had my BCG vaccine at school. I remember, I passed out and had to go home. I was mortified and teased for weeks afterwards about it. It’s a damn good job I am already lying down right now. When she’s finished butchering my arm, she writes on the little vials of blood and sticks them in a bag, which she then attaches little stickers with my name and hospital number onto. She leaves the room reminding me that the doctor will be in shortly.

I take this time to look in the bags that Dad brought for me. I rummage around and pull out my phone. Turning it on, I quickly switch it to silent before a thousand tiny beeps start to come through. I dismiss all the messages apart from the one I want, Jenny, my best friend. I think about how terrified she must have been when she found me on the bathroom floor. I open the text and write a quick reply saying that I am fine and thanking her for everything that she has done. I promise to talk things through with her when I get home.

Just as I hit send there’s a knock at the door. I throw the phone back in my bag quickly, but before I get a chance to say ‘come in’ the door opens and my heart leaps out of chest and lands face down on the tiled floor.

Holy crap on a stick. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I am in heaven.

Standing in front of me is the most beautiful angel I have ever seen in my life. All my senses switch to high alert and I start to feel a tingle all over. He has dark ear length hair and the most captivating blue eyes I have ever seen in my life. He is wearing a grey suit trousers and a crisp white shirt with the top button open. I lick my lips as he walks in and shuts the door behind him. When he turns back around I see his toned arms flex against his shirt, straining the material. He is the epitome of handsome. I glance at his hand to see if he is wearing a wedding ring, which he isn’t and I beam inside.

Don’t be so pathetic. You’re not in a nightclub on the pull.

I smile as he walks towards the bed, my smile fading as I notice his face devoid of any emotion. I watch him take a deep breath like he is readying himself to give me some bad news.

“Hello Miss Riley, my name is Doctor Harmon. I am the hospital’s on call psychiatrist.” Oh my God, he has an American rasp to his voice and it is sexy as hell. “I would like to ask you a few questions about what happened last night, if that’s okay with you?” His tone is gentle, like he is talking to a toddler, I know it has to be a part of his job but it makes me feel small. I am certainly not open to discussion about what happened, especially not with this man. I mean he is hot, he probably already thinks I am a total head case.

You are a total head case Isabelle.

I suddenly realise I must look a right mess, I haven’t even looked in a mirror since last night, I can only imagine how frightening I look. I look up at him and realise he is watching me closely. Damn, he is hot. I wonder what he looks like under that suit
.
I shake my head trying to get my mind from out of the gutter. I start to open my mouth, because let’s face it, they won’t let me go home unless I speak to him and if I sit here like a mute they will probably section me.

“I am not really sure what you want me to say,” I start. “To be honest, I don’t really know why I did it. It just happened.” I sigh.

“Isabelle, please just start at the beginning. I know it can be hard to talk about these things, especially when they’re so raw but I am not here to judge you, I am here to help you.” God he sounds so sexy when he says my name like that. I don’t think I heard anything that he said after my name.

“You are not the first person and you unfortunately won’t be the last to feel like this Isabelle.” Oh there it is again
“But if you open up to me we can try to fix this. I think you need some counselling for your issues. I don’t want to see you in here like this again.” I sigh, how many counsellors have I actually been to and how many more of them do I need to go to before they write me off completely and send me to the loony bin! I can’t see any light at the end of this uneventful tunnel that my life has gone down.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Put the big girl knickers on Izzy and don’t let him see you cry.

“I don’t understand why I feel like this. I mean some days I am great, I forget all my problems and I am just a happy normal girl. This can go on for weeks, but then, out of the blue, I just shut down. Nothing seems to trigger it. I guess I do need some help. I don’t want to hurt my father and friends any more than I already have.” I feel so ashamed of what I have done. I picture my dad’s face this morning, the pain and fear etched into his eyes when he realised how far gone I was. He has been hurt so much in his life and he has come out the other side of it, why can’t I? I don’t want to ever see him that hurt ever again. I want my father to be proud of me.

“This is normal for depression. The good news is we can help you. Once we have received the results back from your blood tests you can go home. But I want you to come and see me every week for counselling sessions at my office in the city. Would you be able to do this?” I am pretty sure my eyes just did that sparkle thing like they do in the cartoons because my whole body lights up at his words. I get to see him on a regular basis.

You are such a fool Isabelle, why would he ever be interested in a nut case like you? He probably sees girls like you all the time. He is just going through the motions and he hasn’t acted like he even gives a damn about you. You’re imagining it all.

I am acting like a lovesick teenager at school when the popular boy says something to her.

“Okay, I can do that.” I finally find my voice.

“That’s great, I think with a little help and a lot of talking we can stop this from ever happening again.” I actually see a spark of emotion flicker across his face. However, it goes across so fast that I don’t acknowledge what it was.

“Thank you Dr…Erm sorry what was your name again.” Did he actually tell me?

“It’s Damon, Damon Harmon.” He stares at me and cocks his head to one side, then gives me the most beautiful smile ever. I stare in his eyes and it’s like watching the most beautiful sunrise.

Did you really just think that Izzy? Seriously, you need to stop reading soppy poems.

“Thank you Doctor Harmon.” I almost choke on my own words.

“Please call me Damon.” Yes that was the sound of my heart thudding out of my chest. “I will take your contact details with me and someone from my office will be in contact with you early next week with a time and day that’s convenient with the both of us. See you soon Isabelle, please take care of yourself and get some rest.” I smile and shake his outstretched hand, flinching as if he has burned me when he touches me. It was like a tiny bolt of electricity shot out of his hand. I had read about this thing happening in the books I read but I always thought it was bullshit. I gasp quietly and as I look up I see pain radiate through his eyes. Looking away quickly I blush feeling like a foolish child. As he turns and leaves I actually feel empty inside. I don’t think I have ever felt like this, when he touched me it was like my whole body came alive, like he jump started my heart again. It’s like we were meant to be and now I just feel like I have lost a part of me, how crazy.

“Yes Isabelle, you have officially lost the plot,” I murmur. The realistic side of me breaking out from the confinements of my messed up head.

I lie back down on the bed and check my phone again. I have a new message from Jen, saying how happy she is that I am okay and that she will see me soon. I check my other messages, there is one from my boss Sue but I ignore it, assuming Jenny will have already let them know that I am unwell. There are several missed calls from my dad from last night. Guilt overwhelms me again. I start to think about all the people who I have hurt doing what I did. What if I’d have succeeded? I’m sure Jenny was distraught when she found me, I can only imagine what she would have felt like if she had have found me dead. Those treacherous tears start to fall again. The happy moment that I basked in not so many minutes ago, when Damon was here has gone. I try to think about how many happy moments I can actually remember, but my mind comes up blank. I look through my emails, nothing exciting in there; just junk ‘You could earn £2,500 a month’ yeah right I wish.

After what seems like forever, the nice blonde nurse comes in to tell me that my bloods are normal and that I am free to leave, once someone collects me. I thank her as she walks out to sort out my discharge papers. Turning back to my phone again, I scroll through my contacts until I come to the one I want. I check my watch, he should just be home from work now.

“Hi Dad.”

“Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’ve had a rest and a chat with a doctor, I can come home, can you come and collect me?”

“Yes, sure honey, I will be there soon.”

“Thanks, Bye Daddy.”

I hang up. I hope my dad doesn’t interrogate me when he picks me up and I certainly hope the bitch isn’t with him. I gather up all my stuff and head to the bathroom. I check my reflection in the mirror, I look pale. My big blue eyes have lost their sparkle; they’re dull and lifeless. I wash my face and pinch my cheeks to try to get some colour back into them. I tie my long brown hair into a messy bun and slip on the jeans and jumper that Jen had sent me. I head back into the room that has confined me for the last eighteen hours and sit on the bed to wait.

“Here are your discharge papers for you to keep and we will send a copy to your GP,” Belinda says as she enters the room a while later. I am so glad that I rarely go to the doctor’s office.

“Thanks, my dad is coming to collect me soon.” She smiles sweetly at me.

“Good, you take care of yourself Isabelle, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but I hope I don’t see you here again.” I smile back. She really is a lovely nurse.

I exit the small side room, which I am glad to see the back of and make my way out of the dingy hospital ward, saying my goodbyes to the nurses sat at their station. I head out the big double doors and down the corridor to wait for my dad. When I get outside I find a small spot on a wall surrounded by flowers, it’s a lovely sunny day out and it’s nice to be outside. I dwell on what could have been.

I may never have gotten to see the sun set or rise again. I sit and wait contemplating things until I see my dad’s Ford Mondeo pull into the car park, I smile at him as he notices me. The smile soon fades when I see that his troll sits in the passenger seat. I quickly climb into the back, purposely going around the other side of the car so that I sit behind my father. I give him a hug from behind and kiss his cheek.

“I don’t want any arguments Isabelle,” my dad starts. “You are coming home with us tonight, I want to make sure you eat and get a good night’s sleep. I have already told Jenny that you won’t be home and she is fine, she said she will speak with you tomorrow.” I know there is no arguing with my dad when he is like this. Carolyn, his troll, gives me a weak smile. She is my dad’s second wife; he married her 3 years ago. I took an instant dislike to her the moment I saw her. No one can ever replace my mom, especially not her. I look at her blankly and sit back in the seat, putting my seatbelt on.

I open my bag and pull out my phone, I rummage around until I find my headphones plug them in and select Nickelback from my music library. I really don’t want to talk to her right now. I stare out the window as we leave the hospital, watching the cars rush by I glance at the clock it is 4.30pm, I hope we don’t get stuck in the Saturday shopping traffic. Cars are rushing past at a blurring speed. I close my eyes and let the soft tones of Lullaby drift through me, how appropriate that the song happened to be the first in my shuffle list.

Shortly after 5pm, we reach my father’s house in Timperley, on the outskirts of Altrincham. My father and I moved back to England when I was nine, to be closer to his ailing parents. I didn’t want to leave America, I felt closer to mom there, but I know it was killing my dad to stay in that house. My grandmother was devastated when we left. She died two years later. We went back for her funeral but it was all too much for me, I was just starting puberty and it was a difficult time in my life with no motherly figure to talk to.

My dad’s parents had lived in Manchester all their lives but dad wanted to live outside of the city. We settled in Timperley because it was easily accessible by tram to my grandparent’s house. It’s a small suburban village with a small population. I soon found out that this fact wasn’t such a good thing. It appeared that every person in the village knew everyone else and everyone’s business. I made friends with some of the local kids, but when they found out why we had left America they looked at me differently.

I would often spend my evenings sat down by the canal with my best friend, my dog Jake. He was a German Shepherd and I loved him dearly. He died a few years ago and I was heartbroken. I enjoyed school but I missed Mom like crazy, I had up and down days, I was pretty so it wasn’t hard for me to make friends and I had lots of attention from boys in my neighbourhood. I never went out though. I stayed home a lot, even though my dad would often beg me to go out with friends.

My mum used to read a lot and I quickly learned that I too loved reading. I often found myself falling asleep with a book in my hands. I loved the British novels, Shakespeare and Jane Austen. I started losing my American accent slowly throughout the years. I already had a British twang anyway from my father but the American in me disappeared more and more as time went on, the books helped that, as I would often read them in a British accent. My love of books got me through many tough years.

When I went to college I met Jenny and we became instant friends, I gradually opened up to her and I loved her for treating me the same way she had always treated me. She never handled me with kid gloves; she was my rock, the person that kept me sane throughout the college years. We were inseparable.

I walk through the door of the semi-detached house, this wasn’t the house I had grown up in, my father sold that when he married Carolyn, I am not entirely sure why she needed a three bedroom house when it was just the two of them, but I have never queried anything that the hag wants. I walk into the living area, it is so cold. White walls, cream carpet, cream sofa. It is bland and boring, just like her.

“I am going to go for a soak in the bath Dad.”
Please don’t talk to me.
I give him a small smile.

“Okay honey, tea will be ready in about an hour, I will call you.” I go upstairs and throw my bag into the spare room, pulling out the toiletries that Jen had packed for me. She really did think of everything. I head to the bathroom, shut the door, turn the lock and start to run the water. I put a good gulp of bubble bath into the tub and start to undress. I look in the mirror, I look frightening. I have lost several pounds over the last few months. My face looks gaunt and drawn and the circles around my eyes make me look like a panda.