Lost

by Sarah Ann Walker

  Moaning, I was done. “He didn’t use the window, then? He used Peter’s key.” Shaking uncontrollably, I was so devastated, I said all I could. “Thank you for telling me everything. But I really have to sleep now. I have to or I'm going to die I think.”

  “Soph,” Steven moaned.

  “No, Steven. I'm done. I have to sleep. Thank you David, and maybe I'll see you some other time, but-”

  “Sophie, you have to give an official report of everything that happened yesterday, and I can't be there. Detective Dent isn't assigned to this case, but she’s offered to be with you because we thought you might be more comfortable with her, since you-”

  “Okay. That sounds good. Please? Please let me go now,” I begged even as my mom hugged me tighter.

  “I'm so sorry, Sophie. Kara and Carrie and all of us are just so sorry any of this happened to you.”

  “I'm not,” I said as my mom stiffened against me. “Sorry, mom. But I'm still not. I love him even though everything is totally fucked up,” I cried as I pulled away from her.

  Without even looking back, I walked to my bedroom and just collapsed on my bed. I didn't cry and I didn't look at my paintings. For the first time since I had found them months prior, I didn't look at my beautiful paintings before I fell asleep. I couldn't. I had no strength to even keep my eyes open for one fleeting second.

  I was so lost in my confusion and despair, my body simply shut down on me.

  CHAPTER 41

  The following morning, after she slept on my couch, my mom woke me and told me we had to go to the police station to make a report.

  With little drama and with questions answered as calmly and accurately as possible, I put in my time, explaining the events as I knew them ‘for the record’.

  When I had finished my statement and answered all questions, I learned that the police had decided they weren’t going to lay charges against me for my involvement in the altercation with Peter. I also learned they had every right to do so.

  I remember hearing from the Interviewing Officer I wasn’t going to be charged, and I was so confused I asked, “Why would I be charged? What did I do?”

  “Ms. Morley, you assaulted a police officer, resisted arrest and-“

  “But I thought they were going to kill us! I thought Peter and I were going to be killed, and he was going to die, and-” but I choked up before finishing, while the Officer waited a moment in silence for me to get it together again.

  “Ms. Morley, that is exactly why you are not being charged. Officer Lockley and Officer Dent have both given a sworn statement as to your involvement with Peter Connor. And they have each sworn that your involvement in the altercation was accidental, and manipulated in such a way as to make you believe you were in fact defending yourself. Also, we’ve learned that though the Officers involved did announce their presence, you were under the assumption that the police themselves were there to cause you bodily harm, therefore, you again believed you were only defending yourself. Am I correct?”

  “Yes…” I admitted. “I think I only hit one guy, once. But I don’t really remember resisting arrest though. What about what I did to my brother?”

  “What did you do to your brother?” He asked somewhat kindly.

  Thankfully though, I was coherent enough to shut my mouth. If the police didn’t know about that, I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them.

  “Ms. Morley, go home. As far as the Police are concerned your involvement is over. You were a victim of Mr. Connor’s delusions, and we don’t want to further victimize you by pressing charges, or by keeping you involved with the investigation any longer than is absolutely necessary. We have your statement, collaborated by the Officers involved, and even by Mr. Connor himself, so you’re free to leave. Ms. Morley, this is over for you now. Go home,” he again said almost kindly.

  Nodding, I smiled at him, stood up with a little thank you and made my way out the door.

  I was not free, and this would never be over for me, but at least I wouldn’t have a criminal record I thought while giggling a little as I left.

  After the interview, my mom and I were ready to leave, but I had one final request of David who was waiting in the hallway for me to finish. I didn't know why he was waiting for me but I took the opportunity offered and ran with it.

  Looking at David, I begged him to take me to Peter. I begged him even as my mom protested beside me, and David told me it was impossible under the circumstances. David explained immediate family could only see him under police supervision, and in one final push of insanity, I argued I was family.

  In the hallway of the police station in front of my worried and exhausted mother, and to a man I barely knew but felt kind of friends with, I begged him to let me see the man I loved.

  Actually, I think I said, “Please let me see Peter because he was supposed to be my forever, and I have to see him so I can finally say goodbye,” which was a little dramatic and over the top, but it really was the truth as I felt it.

  I needed to see Peter one last time before I could let him go, and David reluctantly agreed to take me to him.

  Entering the hospital escorted by Carrie's husband David and my mom, was weird, but I felt nothing. I was like the walking dead going to face Peter.

  I didn't know how I even felt anymore. I didn't know what I felt or even who I really was anymore. I didn't feel like the old Sophie Morley or one of her many incarnations of the last 16 months, nor did I feel like the Sophie of even 12 hours before.

  I was weightless and powerless and confused, and just lost.

  The absolute shift to my reality caused an emotional imbalance and a feeling of hopelessness deep inside me. I felt scared and desperate, and just hollow inside.

  When we arrived at the door to Peter's room, I think I begged to see him alone. I seem to recall being told it wasn't protocol, and I think my mom jumped in again with something like, “Is any of this protocol?”

  I think I remember even laughing for a split second at my mom's Mama-Bear Syndrome which effectively shut up the police and scared them into bypassing the protocol they chose to ignore.

  I was told about keeping my physical distance, and not interfering in his care at all. I was told I would be removed immediately if I aided Peter at all with escape or with his binds. I was also told someone would be checking up on us regularly so not to 'get any ideas'.

  Then it was time.

  Holding my breath, my mom put a comforting hand on my back, pushed open the door for me and then held back in the hallway as I stepped a foot forward.

  *****

  I walked forward slowly while taking in my surroundings quickly. And everything was just so sad.

  The room was quiet but for the machinery beeping, and everything was pushed against the walls. There was nothing of significance available to the one thing I was immediately drawn to.

  Peter.

  On a typical hospital bed of white, with his head turned to the opposite side of the room, he faced away from me as I took him in.

  Lying lifeless and alone, Peter looked like an angel in his bed of white.

  He was still and silent, and he seemed to glow in the otherwise fairly empty room.

  He seemed to glow, like he always had for me. Beautiful and charismatic and enchanting with an otherworldly calm about him.

  And I was totally broken staring at him.

  I couldn’t move and I couldn't advance. I was stuck in the love I had for the beautiful angel on the bed of white.

  “Sophie... You came,” he whispered as I cried out. Crying, my heart was ripped from my chest by the sad sound of his little voice.

  “Hi Peter...”

  “Can you move closer? I can't hurt to you. I'm tied down,” he said so sadly, I felt a moment of outrage turned quickly to anxiety for him. I thought about what it must feel like to be tied down, and I imagined what he felt like to be forced to be still.

  “Sophie?”

  Shaking my head, I tried to calm myself
before I spoke. I knew he would know I was devastated by my voice, so I tried to cover up my sadness.

  “I’m here, Peter. And I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Um, how are you?” I asked like everyone asks when struggling with something greater than they have the ability to understand. It's like in asking, we hope they don't actually tell us the whole truth, but just enough to give us an idea, while giving them the feeling of being cared for because we asked.

  “Nothing between us was ever not real, baby,” Peter whispered.

  He whispered and he answered the unspoken question I was dying to ask as a shiver passed through my whole body. He answered like he always knew I would wonder and question his love. He answered like it was important for me to know, and it was.

  “When I was healthy you were everything to me. And even when I wasn't okay, you were still everything, but it was just so hard,” he continued to whisper with tears in his voice. “I always wanted to be okay with you, and I tried so hard, Sophie...”

  And that was it. Crossing the room I needed him to see me and know.

  Moving to the other side of the bed, I was stunned to see him looking like he looked when he was with me. The nasty beard was shaved off, and he looked clean. He looked just like the man I loved, but I could see he wasn't really. There was still a strangeness to his darkened blue eyes, and he looked too pale and too tired to be my old Peter. Then again, as I looked at him and tried to find all the words I needed to say, I realized he had been shot only 2 nights before, so he probably would look different even if the truth wasn't known.

  Seeing a chair a few feet away, I picked it up and moved as close to Peter as I could. I wanted to touch him and I needed to comfort him, but I didn't know how he would react to touch.

  Moving his eyes to my face, Peter moaned. As tears slid from his eyes, he seemed to struggle with getting comfortable in his bed, while struggling to still look at my face.

  “You're so beautiful, baby. You look like an angel sitting there,” and I laughed a sad laugh of knowing as I interrupted him.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you. When I walked in the room and saw you lying there in the white sheets, I thought you looked like an angel to me.”

  “I'm sorry for all this. I tried so hard, Sophie,” he whispered again.

  “I know. It's okay, Peter.”

  “It's not okay. I know I hurt you and I'm trying to understand what I did and what happened and Carrie told me a little about what happened at the loft and I'm so sorry. But now that I'm on the meds I'm a little bit clearer about everything. I'm still not good with the details when I'm out of it, but I understand a little more now. It's just so hard,” he choked.

  Reaching for him, I tried to take the hand I saw strapped down against the rail. I tried to take his hand, but when he inhaled sharply I was afraid, so I stopped my movement as quickly as I reached for him.

  “No! Please hold my hand. I didn't think you'd want-”

  “I always want to hold you,” I whispered, silencing us both as he cried harder. “Tell me what's going on. I know the reason now, but what actually happened to you?” I pleaded.

  “Um... When I'm on the medication I'm pretty lucid for long periods of time. I function pretty well, and I can keep myself together really well, but then I guess I think I'm okay, or all better and I stop taking the medicine and then I turn back to sick so quickly, I don't know it really happens until someone steps in again and forces me back on the meds. It's a strange back and forth, sick and not sick way I live that gives me a false sense of security until I go off the medication and get really sick. But,” he stopped suddenly.

  Prompting him to continue, I sat closer and brushed a hand across his cheek, as his eyes closed and his body shuddered at the contact between us.

  “I loved you- love you so much, and I was doing really well. I was on the medication almost the whole time, but then I started getting the feeling like I was all better again- better because of you, so I went off it, and that's when I started getting bad again. Near the end, I was struggling all the time, but hiding it from you because I wanted you to just love me-”

  “I did love you,” I confessed.

  “I know, but you loved the lucid, not sick me, and I was always afraid of being the other me, until I screwed up and stopped the meds making me not me anymore. But then I get confused and think I can do it on my own, which I can't and I get worse and worse. The voices get so loud in my head, and I try so hard to block them out with other things, like different herbs and sedatives, and the last time I used you to help them go away. It was like I could wrap you in my head and say your name over and over again until your name became a chant or something that helped to dull the other voices but then they never really go away and then they get louder and I get so tired, and then I can't really stop the sickness from getting me fully. Then I'm not me anymore. And then I'm not me anymore, at all. It's just like I'm not me anymore,” he said rambling while looking like he was struggling again as the tears began pouring down his temple and across the bridge of his nose with his head tilted toward me.

  Wiping away his tears, I tried to comfort him with a weird soothing, like cooing sound, as my thumbs brushed the tears from his face.

  “You sound so lucid right now,” I whispered in the room as he nodded.

  “I know and that's the problem. I am lucid right now and I will be as long as I stay medicated, but I never stay medicated, so I get sick again.”

  “But what if I force you to take the medication every day?” I suddenly thought out loud.

  “It doesn't work that way. I take it for a while until I feel totally rational again and then I stop it so-”

  “But what if I force you to take it every day?”

  “I always find a way to trick people into thinking I'm taking it,” he shook his head in disgust.

  “But if I made you do it in front of me? Maybe you wouldn't try to trick me?” I begged holding my breath.

  “I trick Kara and she's been dealing with me for 9 years like-”

  “But I'm not Kara. I'm special to you. I could make you take the meds because you love me and then you would stay lucid and-”

  “Sophie, there is nothing I want more in my life. I want to live with you and love you forever, but it doesn't work. I always-”

  Interrupting again, I just couldn't contain my desperation. “But you're not in love with Kara. She's your sister but you love me. You adore me. You would want to be healthy with me-”

  “I did want to be healthy with you and I tried so hard, but look at us. David told me I fought police and was shot and you could've been too if they hadn't known my history. They knew what they were going to deal with, they knew David and Carrie and they couldn't stop me even though they knew what they were doing. They never would’ve shot me, and there were other officers coming for me, but I went for the gun and wrestled to get it and I was shot in the leg because that was all he could do. Officer Tesone has even been in to see me and apologized for shooting me. He apologized to me, even though I think everyone else knows there was no telling what I would've done to him if I had gotten his gun in my hands when I was like that.”

  “You wouldn't have hurt him,” I exhaled.

  “I would have, Sophie. I was paranoid and delusional and I thought someone was going to hurt you, so I would have stopped anyone who got in my way while I thought I was protecting you,” he said almost angrily, until I understood what he was saying.

  “So you're dangerous?”

  “When I'm not on the medication, yeah. I'm too strong and it's hard to handle me but I don't mean-”

  “To do it. I know you don't, Peter.”

  “I live in a halfway house where they monitor everything I do. That's where the herb garden and greenhouse is. I used to live in Carrie's loft but I fucked up and got really bad and they had to move me into a halfway house for my own protection and even for theirs. I even lived with Kara for a few years, but when she had babies it wasn't really safe for
me to be around all the time, which I understood logically because I was on the meds. But it still hurt to know Kara needed me to leave for the safety of her family. Then I went off the medication again and I was so sad thinking my family didn't want me I actually broke into her house while they were sleeping and I took my nephew outside to the backyard just to hold him because I loved him,” he suddenly choked.

  Crying again, Peter turned his eyes from my face and moved like he was trying to wipe his own face, but his restrained hands prevented it. Frustrated, he growled but with an audible sadness, not an anger I could see.

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  “Nothing, thank god. Kara was able to talk me into giving her back Bradley and I cried in her backyard until an ambulance took me away to the hospital again. But that's what it's always like for me,” he moaned. “I think I'm okay until I'm not okay and then I don't know I'm not okay until I'm medicated and temporarily fixed. And that's what happened with you,” he smiled back at me sadly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You made me so happy,” he continued as I choked on the sob in my chest. “And then I felt happy, which made me think I was happy and all better, and then I went off the meds and I didn't realize I wasn't better anymore.”

  “But I didn't see it,” I said shaking my head.

  “Because I hid it.”

  “Okay, but you'd think I'd notice the man I slept with and spent every evening with acting sick,” I said gently. I didn't want to say fucked up, or psycho, or anything else that would hurt him, but I just couldn't wrap my head around how I wouldn't know he was mentally unstable.

  “Um, you became the thing of my obsession. It's like, when you were at work I was fucked up, but I waited and then when we were together, I was better because you were with me. But then when you were sleeping or something I'd get paranoid and panicky at night, so I'd go to the living room to fight it, and then I'd get a handle on it and go back to you in bed. So I freaked out if we weren't together, but I was better when we were. That's why you didn't see it. But Carrie and Kara knew.”