by t. h. snyder
“Who says I need or want anything? I’m just fine dealing with what’s been dealt to me.”
“You say that now, yet you still come in here every week with the same look of pain across your face. There has to be something you want that perhaps I can help you find.”
“I come here every week because I have to, not because I want to.”
“No one has forced you to walk through those doors. I can see it; it’s there, Christian, you just have to let it all out. I’m not asking you to spill it all in one session, but we’ve been at this long enough. It’s time to share what you’ve been holding back all this time. Otherwise, I don’t know that I’ll be able to help you.”
Feeling deflated, I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the strands out of frustration. My eyes move to meet his, an intense stare glaring back at me. As much as I need to forget, want to hold it all in, maybe it’s time to slowly ease out of the hole I’ve been hiding in all this time.
“I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know where to start.”
“Being here, in this room, is a great start. Now you need to talk, tell me why you feel the way you do.”
Sitting up straight, I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I need to do this…I will overcome the demons strangling the life out of me. I want to be a better person—if not for me, then for her.
“I’ve been on my own my entire life. All I’ve ever wanted was to find my place in this world.”
“And what place is that, Christian?”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve been tossed around—no one has ever wanted me.”
Sadness begins to overwhelm me as I think back to my childhood. Resting myself against the back of the chair, I gaze up to the ceiling. My thoughts are a tangled web and I’m not sure how to clear my head.
“Christian…where did you go just now?”
Shifting my head to face him, I focus on why I’m here. He’s right; he’s here to listen and to help me. As much as I don’t want to talk about it, I really have no other choice.
“I’m a man on a mission; I want to better the world and help heal those that have dealt with the pain I wish to forget. I was tossed around in foster homes all of my life, never able to find that one person that truly wanted me…needed me…until her.”
“Now you’re talking. When will you tell me more about this mysterious woman?”
“I’m not ready,” I respond, looking at him with a glare.
“Okay, fair enough, let’s take a step back. You mentioned being in foster homes; tell me more about that time of your life.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes tightly closed.
“I can picture every home that I was sent to, each foster parent that pretended to want me with them. It was always an act, a show where they pretended that I was the greatest gift they had ever received…only it was all fake.”
“Why do you feel as though it was all an act?” he asks in a compassionate tone.
“Because as soon as I’d move into the home, things changed—I wasn’t part of the family like the other children. No matter how hard I’d try to fit in, I was pushed away.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Nonexistent, like I didn’t matter to them.”
“That had to be very difficult to cope with.”
“It was unbearable. I was used, abused, and after time, they sent me to another family. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I’d never be a part of a family. I was dealt a raw deal and had to live with it until I was old enough to be on my own. The more I was pushed around from house to house, the worse my behaviors became. I had no other choice but to stand on my own, and anyone that got in my way was knocked down.”
“You became a bully to protect yourself?”
Opening my eyes, I realize what he’s just said. I became a monster to hide, to heal, and to make sure no one would ever hurt me again.
“Yes, in a way I suppose you could say that. The further I pushed people away, the better off I felt. It wasn’t ‘til my eighteenth birthday that I woke up and wanted to find my own way out. I finally was able to break free on my own and there wasn’t anyone I’d let stand in my way.”
The sound of the clock pulls my attention to the side of the room. Shit, that hour flew by and I was finally starting to feel like I could open up.
“You’ve made amazing progress today, Christian. You should feel proud.”
Nodding my head, I lean forward, staring down toward my shoes.
“I want you to start writing in a journal. Be sure to notate your emotions of anger, happiness, sadness, and frustration. Next time you come in, we’ll review it. I want to see how you’re beginning to progress now that you’ve been able to open up. You did great today; it’s a good start.”
Lifting my head, I look into his yes. His tone is sincere as well as the expression on his face.
“Thanks, doc, will do.”
Standing from the chair, I take a step forward, shake his hand, and make my way out of his office. Today was a breakthrough; I haven’t talked to anyone about my feelings, let alone my past.
With a small sense of pride, I stride through the parking lot toward my car. I need to make a stop before heading home; someone is in need of a journal.
Chapter 3
It’s been a long, busy shift at work tonight and I just received orders to head down to the emergency room. Just fucking great; I only have an hour left on my shift. This one better be quick and painless—I want to get out of here on time and fall into a deep sleep on my bed.
The past few days, all I’ve been able to do is sort through my emotions; I’m mentally and physically exhausted. I’ve done exactly what Dr. Jonestown suggested and started to write things down in a journal. From the time I wake up ‘til I rest my head on my pillow, I think about the ways in which I’ve reacted to myself and those around me. For the most part, I’m a loner; I won’t let anyone in unless I know I can trust them. Being so afraid I’ll hurt someone, there are very few that I’ll allow close to me…no trust is good enough for me.
I locate a wheelchair in the hallway and make my way to the elevator…time for my next patient transport. Hitting the button for the proper floor, the doors close and I begin the short ride down to the emergency room.
Pushing the chair ahead of me, I stop at the nurses’ station so I can ask where the patient is located. The nurse gives me the patient’s name and I’m pointed in the right direction before I walk toward a closed curtain. As I pull it to the side, my mouth drops open. A sudden dryness overcomes my mouth and a huge lump of anxiety fills my throat.
It’s her.
She’s lying in the bed, wrapped up in a blanket, her body trembling. My heart skips a beat as I move into the room to get a better look. Her face is bruised and I can see by her tear-stained cheeks that she’s been crying.
From the expression on her face, I can tell she’s upset, and she doesn’t recognize me from the diner. Why would she? It was a moment in time that was apparently forgettable for her…just not for me. I’ve seen this girl in my dreams, and throughout every waking thought, hoping that I’d have a chance to find her again. Now she’s lying here, hurt and alone. I can’t have that; she shouldn’t be all by herself like this. Someone should be with her, caring for her and making sure she’s okay.
This is more than fate; it’s a chance to finally be there for someone that needs me. I’m the one who will be able to help her, take care of her, and never leave her side again.
It’s time for me to embrace the moment and take charge…I can’t lose the one woman that has me feeling things I’ve never felt before. Right here in this moment, as crazy as I may be, I won’t let her go without her knowing that she’s someone special.
“Gretchen Powers?” I ask.
Trying to play it cool, I reach for the tablet at the end of her bed.
“Yes, that’s me,” she replies, her eyes staring back into mine.
She looks
to be in so much pain and I want to take it all away for her. I can’t help but flash a smile; I’ll do anything to make her feel better.
“My name is Christian and I’ll be taking you upstairs for your CT scan. Can you make it to the wheelchair or would you like me to assist you?”
I start to move in her direction but she shakes her head no.
“No, I think I’m good.”
My eyes pay close attention to her every movement as she slides herself to the edge of the bed and steps down onto the floor. Her body starts to fall and I reach my hand out for her.
“Take it easy, Miss Powers. Let me help you.”
With my arms supporting her small frame, I guide her into the wheelchair. She rests her back against the chair while placing her head in her hands.
Pushing her through the hallways, I want so badly to say something to her. Anything I can do to help her through whatever she’s going through will make me feel that someone finally needs me.
When we reach the radiology department, I sign her in and allow the technician to escort her into the scan. While waiting, I try to play through my actions. Ever since going to Dr. Jonestown, I find myself over thinking everything I do. I know there’s no way she can remember who I am. I mean, wouldn’t she have said something if she did?
No matter how much I want to be her knight in shining armor, I need to step back for a second and play it cool. I don’t want to come across as the crazy loon I know I am. All I can do right now is act the part, be there for her, and let her lean on me…that is, if she wants to. Otherwise, I’ll have no other choice but to walk away.
I begin to pace up and down the hallway. Walking away is exactly what I did that day in the diner and I’ve regretted it every day since. There’s something about her that pulls me to her. I’ve built up a need for her even though she’s never been a part of my life. I have to find a way into her world; I won’t lose the feelings she brings out in me. Never having had something like this before, I can’t bear to let it go.
I will do whatever I have to so I can be by her side. If it means I’m her support, her friend, or whatever else she wants…I’ll give it to her with open arms. She’s my mysterious stranger that means more to me than those who have been around me a lot longer.
“Christian,” the voice of the technician pulls me out of my trance, “Miss Powers is all set.”
“Thank you,” I reply, moving behind the wheelchair and pushing her toward the elevator.
While waiting for the elevator to take us to the first floor, I watch over her. She’s slumped down in the chair and her body is still trembling. My hand instinctively reaches out to touch her, but I quickly stop myself. It’s too soon to provide any sort of physical contact; I can’t have her thinking I’m a nut case.
Once we’re back down in the emergency room, I pull the chair up alongside her bed. Not knowing whether or not she’ll be able to get into the bed, I pause, waiting for her to make the first move. After what feels like forever, and with no reaction from her, I decide to see if she needs help. Guiding her from the chair and into the bed, I watch carefully as she tries to situate herself and get more comfortable. I know it’s a lost cause; she has a look of pain plastered across her face.
“Miss Powers?”
She looks to me, her eyes staring back into mine. For a brief moment, I can feel the intensity of our gaze. Needing to rid the thoughts and emotions flying through my mind, I clear my throat.
“Gretchen,” she replies, her face turning pale white.
I watch as she rests herself back against the inclined bed, a look of uncertainty evident on her face.
“What?” I ask, scrunching my brows together.
“Ugh,” she shrieks as her hand flies to her mouth.
She takes in a deep breath, moving herself to sit up straight. For a few moments, she inhales and exhales slow, steady breaths, looking to calm herself from something. She looks as though she’s going to be sick at any minute, but I don’t know for sure. I hate not knowing what’s wrong or what I could be doing to help her.
“You can call me Gretchen. That’s my name.”
“Umm, yeah. Okay…sure,” I reply, handing her a basin.
Her eyelids slowly begin to close.
“Are you feeling alright?” I ask.
Her reactions are subtle, the color of her face changing very quickly. I’m beginning to become more and more concerned by the second. Having needed a CT scan, she may very well have had a head trauma and sleeping is not the best thing for her right now. She’s needs to stay awake, and since no one is here to help her, I will.
“Your complexion has changed to pure white and your pupils were dilating. Let me have the nurse come in here and check your vitals before I leave.”
She slowly opens her eyes and watches as I walk away from the side of the bed. I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m determined to stay by her side and make sure she’s well taken care of…it’s my mission to keep her safe.
Chapter 4
Reaching out for the first nurse I can find, I let her know Gretchen’s recent reactions since I’ve been by her side. If I can’t help her, at least I know that the nurse will be able to do whatever she needs.
I follow closely behind the nurse, moving the curtain to the side so we can both enter the space.
“Miss Powers,” the nurse calls, “I’m just here to take your vitals. Can you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being intolerable pain?”
“It hurts really badly,” Gretchen responds, squinting her eyes in pain.
“I understand you’re in pain, but in order to get you the right medication, I need to know how severe it is.”
The nurse is caring and compassionate, but I can still sense that Gretchen is not at ease. From the expression on her face the pain has to be intolerable. I don’t even know this girl, but right now I’d do anything to help take it all away.
“It’s about a ten right now.”
“Okay, that’s pretty bad. Tell me exactly where the pain is.”
Silence fills the small room as the nurse and I stand here, waiting for Gretchen to respond.
“Gretchen,” I say in a deep voice.
Her eyes meet mine while I try to encourage her to respond.
“It starts between my temples,” she says, lifting her hands to touch her head. “Then it runs down my back, starting at the bottom of my neck.”
The nurse nods her head and begins to wrap the blood pressure cuff around Gretchen’s arm.
“Can you tell me what happened to cause you this pain?”
“I can’t quite remember everything that happened,” she replies with a heavy sigh. “It hurts too much to think.”
“Okay, Gretchen, rest your head back down and let me run some more quick vital tests. I want you to try and stay awake. If you have a concussion, we need to make sure that you’re kept from sleeping, at least for the next few hours. Is there anyone I can call to come sit with you?”
“No, not really,” she replies, slowly shaking her head. “I’m kinda new to town and my only friend was brought in here by ambulance, too. Can you find out if he’s okay?”
A concussion…no way can I let her fall asleep. She needs someone to be with her to make sure she’s alright.
The nurse reaches down to remove the cuff and lets Gretchen’s arm fall to her side.
“You need to stay calm and rested without any added stress. Let me see if I can find someone to keep you company, at least until the CT scan results come down here to Dr. Pruitt.”
“I’ll stay with her,” I shout.
Why the fuck am I shouting?
The nurse turns to face me, a look of shock on her face.
Cool it, crazy loon, you’re beginning to freak the nurse out.
“Are you sure? We don’t want you missing out on your shift and getting in trouble with your supervisors,” she replies.
“My shift was over thirty minutes ago. I’m fine to stay here with Gretchen for the
next few hours.”
A smile spreads across the nurse’s face and I return the gesture.
See? I can be cool and confident without looking like a mad man.
“Fine, as long as you don’t mind staying. Just make sure she doesn’t nod off.”
Before walking out of the room, the nurse enters a few items into the tablet and places it back at the end of Gretchen’s bed.
Turning to face her, I take a step closer, but not too close. I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
“Now, to keep you awake, Gretchen,” I say with a smirk.
“I’ll stay up, I promise,” she responds with a cute smile
“Yeah, I doubt that. It’s almost three o’clock; I can only imagine the night you’ve had. I’m sure you’re starting to get pretty tired.”
I watch as she lets out a yawn.
“I am tired, but I have too much to think about right now to fall asleep. Plus, the pain coursing through me is enough to keep me up ‘til next year.”
She stares back at me. The will to not move closer to her is becoming unbearable. I want so badly to cradle her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay, even if I’m not sure what the hell brought her here in the first place.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, pulling the chair up next to her bed and taking a seat.
“Not really.”
“Okay, well if you want to talk, we have plenty of time. If you have a concussion like I think you do, we have to keep you up for the next few hours.”
She nods her head and rolls her eyes at me.
“Honestly, I have a past that you’d rather not know the details about. Let’s just say that it’s come back to bite me in the ass and now I’m here.”
“Suit yourself, but I’ve been told I’m a damn good listener,” I reply with a wink.
“Thanks, I really appreciate that. I’m just not one to bare my soul to a complete stranger.”
Stranger…fuck, that’s exactly what I am to her, regardless of the connection I feel.