Broken People

by Scott Hildreth

  I looked up as they were moving Britney out of the garage, and toward the ambulance on a stretcher. I turned and started walking that direction, clutching my phone in my hand. I could hear my car running in the driveway. I hadn’t shut it off when I got here. I didn’t care, and kept walking toward the ambulance. I was halfway down the length of the driveway as they were loading her inside the ambulance.

  “Ma’am, we need you to answer some questions.” the officer said as I was walking away.

  “Ma’am. Ma’am. Ma’am!” he started to scream and followed me.

  “Fuck you. Fuck your retarded questions. I’m going with them,” I pointed toward the ambulance. “You can ask me all the retarded questions you want at the hospital.”

  “Ma’am, I am sorry, you aren’t allowed back here,” one of the paramedics said, as they were strapping Britney into the ambulance.

  “Fuck you,” I said as I shoved my phone in my back pocket, grabbed a handle, and pulled myself in. Both paramedics looked at each other, and raised their eyebrows. “She’s my friend, I found her, and I am riding with you to the hospital. You want me out, throw me out,” I said, wiping tears from my face. I was still shaking and exhausted.

  Someone shut the back doors to the ambulance, and it began to roll forward. One of the paramedics began connecting an IV, electrodes, and wires to Britney. Her face was covered in a plastic mask. The other paramedic looked up at me and spoke.

  “You’ve got a lot of guts, getting her off the ladder, and performing CPR. That took tremendous drive. It speaks volumes of what type of person you are inside. Not many girls would have maintained a level head through all of that. You did good Michelle,” he said in a very soft, appreciative tone.

  Kid, I needed to call Kid. I reached in my back pocket, and called Kid. I held the phone to my cheek, and waited for it to start ringing. As soon as the paramedic noticed me on the phone, he shook his head from side to side.

  “Ma’am, you can’t use that in here, the machines…,” he said, still shaking his head.

  “Fuck you,” I said to the second paramedic as Kid answered.

  “Not you Kid, they told me to hang up. We’re in the ambulance, and headed to the hospital.” As soon as I began to talk, the reality of the situation hit me, and I began to cry uncontrollably. As tears were dripping from my chin, Kid began to talk.

  “Michelle, you did great. You did all you could. Did you give her CPR?” he asked, quietly.

  I nodded my head, and realized I wasn’t speaking. “Yes,” I responded.

  “Is she alive?” Kid’s voice was soft and kind.

  I shrugged my shoulders and thought. I had no idea. I assumed that she was dead, but I had hoped that she was alive. She wasn’t moving. I looked at the paramedic, moved the phone from my face, and asked the question. “Sir, is she breathing?”

  “She is alive, ma’am,” the other paramedic answered.

  “Is she breathing?” I asked again, realizing that was not what Kid asked.

  “Ma’am, she’s alive, and we’re trying to keep her that way, get off the phone, please, ma’am,” the first paramedic asked.

  “Kid, she’s alive, yes. They’re telling me I have to get off the phone. I will call you from the hospital, okay?”

  “Okay. Be well, Michelle.”

  I hung up, and pulled the phone from my face. It was dripping water from me crying. I wiped the screen on my pants, and looked down at my combat boots. I took the back of my hand, and wiped my face free of tears. Putting the phone back in my pocket, I noticed for the first time that the second attendant had a tattoo on his forearm. “USMC”. He probably spent his early years in Iraq, doing what he could to help fight for what he believed was right. Or, at least, what he was ordered to fight for. He fought for the United States to remain United. And now, he was fighting for Britney’s life. I realized as I looked at him that I was going to spend my entire life, after college, doing versions of what they were doing right now, every day; saving lives. A feeling of warmth surrounded me. I prayed. I looked back at the attendant with the tattoo, and asked, “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

  He looked at me, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, and looked back down at Britney, without saying a word.

  She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?

  Chapter 15

  Are those rocks in your pocket?

  MARCUS. Girls have always thought I was pretty cool and I have no problems pulling good looking girls. All the chicks I hang out with want me, and they never want to friend-zone me. It’s pretty cool, because I get to pick and choose the ones I want to be with, and the others just have to live with it. Going to school at South Plainfield is a lot cooler than going to school in Buffalo. We moved to South Plainfield almost two years ago, and I like it here. There’s a lot more chicks. And my friends are cool too. There were basically four of us that hung out together, Adrian, Marc, Joey, and I. We hung out together all the time.

  We ate lunch together every day, pretty much. This particular day had been a bitch at school, and I have about had it for the year. I am so over this year. I am ready for it to end. Three more months, and summer is here. Summer beats this shit all to hell. School can be so boring, but lunch isn’t bad, something I kind of look forward to. Marc had got a banging hot new girlfriend, but he never brought her around. This day at lunch, Adrian started before I had a chance.

  “Dude, have you had sex with her?” Adrian asked Marc.

  “Our relationship is private, you guys know that. Now, stop,” Marc said.

  Marc started moving around in his seat, trying to get comfortable. Today, we would probably get some stories about this bitch. He should say something if we hit him hard. “C’mon, Marc. Just tell us something. You’ve never really had a girlfriend. Give us something,” I said.

  Marc started looking at his watch like it was time to leave. This pussy wasn’t even going to tell us anything about this girl. I can’t believe he is going to deprive us of this bitch. Really, Marc? Dude. Tell us something. She’s a bitch. Bro’s before hoes.

  “Listen, I told you guys. I will tell you about her, who she is, what she’s like. But, it is not fair to her or to us to give anyone intimate details about what we do. Do not ask again. It’s a matter of respect,” Marc said, angrily.

  Marc started messing with his hair, and acting mad. I felt like I should make him feel better, and that we weren’t attacking him, just really attacking the bitch he was dating.

  “Dude, cut that shit, it’s fucking long,” I said.

  “No, I am not cutting it. I like it this way,” Marc responded, taking a bite from his apple.

  Marc and Joey got up to go to the bathroom, and left Adrian and I at the table. Not much longer, and this day will be over. I am ready for this one to end. It’s about time to take SAT tests, and I hate taking tests. I hate school, and I am not going to go to college. I may get a job when school is out, and I may join the Air Force, I can’t decide. I looked up, and saw Marc had left his coat at the table.

  “Dude, hand me Marc’s coat,” I said to Adrian.

  “What?” Adrian responded.

  “Hand me Marc’s coat, I want to see if his phone is in it. You know he leaves that shit unlocked. I want to see if he has any pics of that bitch in his phone. Hand me his coat,” I said, pointing to the coat.

  “Dude, you know how he is about that coat,” Adrian responded.

  I reached over, grabbed the coat, and pulled Marc’s phone from the inside pocket. I turned the phone on, and went through the images. There were only a few pics on his phone at all, but the most recent one was the girl he was dating, and she was naked.

  “Dude, jackpot, look at this shit,” I said, and pointed the phone at Adrian, so he could see this bitch.

  “Damn, dude, she’s fucking hot. Nice tits,” Adrian said.

  “Dude, watch and see if they’re coming, and let me know,” I said to Adrian, pointing to the bathroom.

  “Ok
ay.”

  I took the phone, and texted the pics of her from Marc’s phone to my phone, and then, after they were sent, I erased the text messages from Marc‘s phone. I put the phone back in Marc’s jacket, and put the jacket back on the seat.

  “Dude, that bitch has nice fucking tits, did you see that shit?” I asked Adrian.

  “Yeah, send me that shit, dude. Spank bank. Damn.” Adrian said, smiling.

  I opened my phone’s images, and started looking at the other pics of Marc’s girl. She was pretty damned cute. Looked like a Puerto Rican. She was skinny, had big tits, and a pretty face. I looked at the other pics with her clothes on, and she was still hot. While I was looking at my phone, we heard Marc and Joey coming down the hallway. As soon as they walked up, Adrian started acting all nervous.

  “Well, you guys about ready?” Adrian said as he was standing up.

  Everyone went back to class. I spent the rest of the day thinking about summer. Summer is so much better than the winter. In the winter, there’s nothing to do, really, and the time goes by so slow. In the summer, the time flies by, and it is so much more fun. Everyone is out doing things, and having fun. Summer is the shit. Sometimes I wish I lived in Los Angeles or Hawaii. Summer all year, now that would be the shit.

  After school, I texted a few people copies of the pic of Marc’s girl. Later that night, I had about five or six people ask for a copy of it, and I texted it to them. During the next few days, I had a few more requests for a copy of it. And then, after about a week, it stopped. People finally started getting a copy of it from other people instead of getting it from me.

  ******

  It was maybe a month or so later, when Marc called me. He asked me to meet him, and said he wanted to talk about a summer surprise party for Joey. Joey’s birthday was in the summer, so it was no big deal, and we decided to meet at 8:00 p.m. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Marc’s car, and he was in it. I pulled up beside his car and got out. Marc got out of his car, and when he did, he pulled off his jacket and tossed it in the car. He ran his hands through his hair, and walked toward me. It looked like he was going to give me a bro hug. And then, all of a sudden, he started screaming.

  “You stole pictures off my phone of my girlfriend, and sent them to everyone in school. You’re a piece of fucking shit, Marcus,” Marc screamed. He was shaking. I could tell he was ready to fight, and that I needed to settle him down.

  “Dude, I just. Well, I just. One day, you and Joey went to the bathroom, and Adrian and I….” I didn’t get to finish, and he interrupted me.

  “I already talked to Adrian, I know what happened,” he said. He kept walking around me, in circles.

  “Dude, she’s just a bitch, bros before hoes, c’mon dude, we’re bro’s,” I said, trying to settle him down.

  “She’s not a bitch, she’s a woman. And you need to learn about being respectful. And, the fact that people are human fucking beings. You don’t have to respect her, you don’t know her, but you should treat her with respect. And, if you were truly my friend, out of respect for me, you would not have done what you did. You know, shit like this from people like you can ruin someone’s life for fucking ever, you dumb fuck.” He kept circling around me, and getting closer.

  That was all I remember for a while. The next thing I know, Marc was on top of me. He kept hitting my face, screaming about respect. When he finally got off of me, I had teeth in my mouth. My face was throbbing, and I could feel blood all over my arms and face.

  “Don’t ever talk to me again, Marcus. Ever. I said the same thing to Adrian. And, you are going to go to everyone in that school, personally, and ask them if they have a copy of that photo of her, and if they do, you’re going to see that it’s deleted. Everyone. And, a month from now, I am going to ask around, and if anyone still has a copy of it, I am going to find you. And we will do this again, understand?” Marc said, as he looked at his hands, shaking them.

  I stood up. My head was spinning and throbbing. I nodded my head, and spit my teeth into my hand, and put them in my pocket. I wiped my face with my hand, and smeared blood all over my hand. My lips felt like grilled hot dogs. Over grilled hot dogs.

  “Do you understand? I asked you a fucking question, and I want an answer,” Marc said, and started walking toward me again.

  “Yeth!” that’s all I could say. My face was on fire.

  “And, do not ever speak to me for any reason. Ever. As long as you live. If I have a reason to talk to you, it is going to be to beat your ass again, Marcus. That’s the only reason I will ever talk to you again. Get those photos found, and get them gone. And, when you talk about this, if you do, don’t say Marc is an asshole. Say to yourself or others, I was wrong. Because you were.” With those last words he got into his car and drove off.

  I was wrong.

  Chapter 16

  Who did this?

  MICHELLE. “Look at her, lady. I know she has a mask on her face, but go back there and look at her, and then come back here and look at me. And tell me we aren’t related. I’m her cousin. I’m going back there,” I said, crying, with my phone in my hand. I was shaking it in front of her face as I spoke.

  The lady at the desk in the emergency room at the hospital wouldn’t let me inside. They had pulled the ambulance up to an entrance at the hospital and took Britney to a trauma section. There was a special desk in this section of the hospital, and a doctor and this lady stopped me and told me I had to go to the waiting room. According to her, only family was allowed to go into the unit, and sometimes not even family at all.

  “Ma’am, I am going to walk back there, I am sorry. If you want to stop me, I suppose you can try. I have had a fucking awful day,” I wiped tears from my face, took a breath, and started talking again, my voice getting louder the more I spoke. “I found her in her garage, hanging from a fucking bed sheet. I climbed a rickety ladder, and carried her to the fucking top.” Remembering Britney hanging there, I started to cry, uncontrollably.

  “I…” she began to speak, interrupting me. I held my hand up to stop her. I felt compelled to finish. Still crying uncontrollably, I tried to speak.

  “…I held her in my arms, lady. I held her in my arms, and untied that mother fucking rope, and tried to carry her to the bottom,” I wiped the tears from my face with my arm. Sobbing, I continued. “And I got her to the ground, and I tried as hard as I could to save her, and if she doesn’t live, it’s going to kill me.” Filled with emotion, shaking, and with my voice cracking, I turned and tried to walk. I stumbled at the first step. I felt weak and dizzy.

  She turned from the counter, exited her work station, walked over to me, and touched my arm. When I started to pull away, she spoke softly and lightly gripped my forearm.

  “Hide your phone in your back pocket, honey. Let me help you get back there. Hold onto me. I will show you where she is. We will tell them you’re her sister, okay?”

  I nodded. Still sobbing uncontrollably, I wiped my face with my arm, and pushed my phone into my back pocket. When we got to where Britney was, there were two staff members working with her. She was lying on her back, and lay completely still. I touched her hand, and she felt cold. I began to sob, and the doctor turned toward us, and looked directly at me.

  “Sister,” the receptionist whispered to the doctor.

  She put her arm around my shoulder, and pulled me toward her, giving me a hug. I began to cry again. With my head on her shoulder, I cried. She held me for some time, and I cried, thinking of Britney hanging there. I wondered if I did the CPR correctly. I wondered if I hurt her when we fell, and if maybe hitting her head on the garage floor did this. I know I tried as hard as I could to do everything possible. I began to pray, and as I did, I stopped crying. I pulled away from the receptionist, and wiped my tears. She tapped my shoulder, and turned to walk away. As she did, I whispered to her, “Thank you.”

  “Debbie,” she whispered back, smiling, as she walked through the partition.

  I stood by Britney�
��s feet, rubbing them as the doctors checked her statistics. The weight of responsibility was heavy, and I began to feel guilty for Britney being in this condition. As I stood, rubbing her feet, number two from my list came to mind. God will give you more than you can handle, so you can learn to lean on Him in times of need. He won't tempt you more than you can handle, though. So don't lose hope. Hope anchors the soul.

  And, as I rubbed her feet, I began to pray. I closed my eyes, and got lost in prayer. All of the sounds, all of the beeping, the distant moans, and screaming, all went away. I could hear nothing but the sounds of my thoughts. I felt at peace, and even felt lighter on my feet. Britney’s feet felt cold and smooth in my hands. I continued to pray, rubbing her feet as I did. I wanted, desperately, to make them feel warm. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes, feeling as if I could accept whatever God’s will happened to be.

  “You’re her sister?” the doctor turned and asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I responded, nodding.

  “She is in a coma. We will need to run some tests. There may be swelling of the brain, it may be from the asphyxiation, depending on the amount of time that she, and well…..we need to run some tests. It may be something that she comes out of soon, and possibly not. We will know more after the tests.” He turned and began to speak to the other staff.

  I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake. Kid had told me that a thousand times. I closed my eyes, and began to repeat it in my mind, over and over, as I rubbed Britney’s feet.

  When things happen in life, I always try to look at what it is that happened, big or small, and learn from it. Texting and driving, once, I almost had a collision. I stopped texting and driving. I have seen boys pass around pictures of girls in school, and realized how disrespectful and shallow people can be. I would no sooner send someone a naked photo of me than I would rob a bank. I always try to consider the possibility and the probability of something happening. If I have control, ultimately, I can rely on myself. If it is out of my control, I must rely on others. Other people, in my opinion, cannot be relied on. When I rely on others, I am often disappointed, depending on the situation, or the person. Different people, I suppose, can be relied upon for different things. I believe that people can learn a lot from the way that I perceive things.