“Yes, of course I do! But not like that. Not cooped up in a dark room somewhere.”
“Where do you think she is now? She hides away in that room, Duke. She chooses not to leave it.”
I jump up off the sofa and pace back and forth. Scrambled thoughts invade my mind about Raya’s condition and the possibility of her leaving. Is she really that damaged that I can’t save her? I guess I’m not enough after all.
Melanie stands up, “Look, I know this is upsetting you, but please think about it. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Melanie leaves and I sink into the sofa, thinking about what I need to do to keep Raya with me. Of course I want her to get better, but at what costs? I walk to her bedroom and slowly open her door to peek my head inside. She’s sleeping, bundled up in the sheets. I lightly stroll over to her to kiss her forehead. A soft moan escapes her lips, causing me to shudder. Just being near her sends chills down my spine. I quietly clean up her room, removing any garbage and empty drinking glasses. Making sure that everything is placed where it needs to be just in case she wakes up, I shut the door behind me and walk into my bedroom to change into a pair of sweats and my wife beater.
Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, I turn on the television to wind down and relax. I adjust the pillows on the sofa so I’m able to lie down and chill out. Deciding that I don’t want to watch anything too serious, I land on a comedy special. Thirty minutes later, the show’s over and the next segment begins. I set the empty beer bottle on the coffee table and sink further into the sofa, letting it snuggle me.
The laughter from the television jolts me awake as my eyes shoot open. Shit, that startled me. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I see that it’s one thirty in the morning as I grab the remote and click off the television. Ensuring that everything is locked up tight for the night, I make my way to my bedroom.
As I walk down the hallway, I see a light shining from the bathroom door. I glance into Raya’s bedroom only to find an empty bed, so I quietly walk up to the bathroom door and twist the knob, only to realize it’s locked.
I knock softly, “Raya, are you alright? If you need help, let me in.”
A few seconds go by without a response from her, so I knock again. “Raya, let me in. I want to help you.”
I press my ear against the door to hear the faint sound of her cries coming from the room. Panic immediately rises and sets in my bones as my heartbeat fluctuates.
I knock louder, “Raya please. Open the door, sweetie.”
Her cries grow louder as I go into full on panic mode. I begin to pound my hand against the door.
“Raya! Open the door. It’s Duke. Please open up!”
The door doesn’t budge so I decide it’s time to bust my way in. I begin to slam my shoulder into the door, slowly breaking away the lock. After several tries, it’s still locked. Fuck it. I take a step back and swiftly kick my foot into the door and it flies open. I rush into the bathroom to find Raya lying on the floor. Her red eyes are swollen from crying and I there is blood all over her clothes. I bend down to examine her further and notice one of my razors is on the floor. Shit! I glance at her wrist to find that she has completely removed a layer of skin, right where the barcode tattoo is located.
“No, no, no! Raya, what did you do?”
I dig into the medicine cabinet to quickly find some gauze and wrap her wrist to try and stop the bleeding, but within seconds, it’s completely soaked. Raya begins to close her eyes as her tears stop, her breathing becomes shallow, and her body trembles slightly.
My breath catches as the thought of losing her again scares the shit out of me. Tears fill my eyes as I run out of the bathroom to dial 9-1-1. I give the operator all of the details and she tells me that someone should be here within two minutes. Racing into the bathroom, I kneel beside her as the tears start to spill down my face and fear and horror seep into my soul.
“Don’t you dare do this to me again. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you again.”
Her breathing slows and the color of her skin dims to a pale white. I grab hold of her face and look deep into her eyes.
“Raya, I beg you. Stay with me. Help is on the way. Stay with me.”
Duke
Minutes later, the emergency responders barge into the bathroom. They immediately pick Raya up off the ground and place her onto a stretcher.
As one of the EMTs straps her in, he asks, “What happened?”
“I fell asleep on the sofa and when I woke up I heard her crying in the bathroom. The door was locked so I broke it down. She cut her wrists with my razor.”
They pull the stretcher out of the apartment and I follow them.
“How long was she in the bathroom?”
“I don’t know, maybe about fifteen minutes? I was asleep, though, so it could have been longer.”
The two responders carry her stretcher down the stairs and into the ambulance. I jump inside the back as the driver takes off and rushes to the hospital. I hear the sirens wail as we zoom to the emergency room, racing through the busy New York streets.
With drip cords inserted into to her arm and a heart monitor attached, I notice the beeping fluctuate speeds. I place my hand in hers and squeeze, slowly breathing to gain some sort of composure. The EMT places an oxygen mask on her mouth, “She’s lost a lot of blood and her breathing is shallow.”
I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as I watch her slip away from me, “Please, I can’t lose her again. Please save her.”
“I’m trying the best I can.”
Just as he says that, the heart monitor flat lines and my heart sinks into my stomach. I feel bile rise into my throat as the dread fills my chest. Everything is happening so fast, it’s hard to focus on it all at once.
The EMT starts to perform CPR on her, applying compressions to her chest. The heart monitor continues to flat line. All I can do is cry and say a silent prayer. Please don’t leave me again. I need you, Raya. I can’t live without you. I didn’t even get a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Please, Raya. Give me that chance. As he continues to perform CPR, I comb my fingers through my hair and let out a deep breath.
“Come on, Raya, fight it! Pull through for me!”
Then, all of sudden, the heart monitor starts to beep again at a consistent pace and a heavy weight is lifted off my shoulders.
The EMT studies the monitor, “Oh, thank God. I thought I lost her for a second.”
Minutes later, we arrive at the hospital and Raya is rushed into the operating room. I follow the rush of doctors and nurses spitting medical terminology but understand that she’s lost a lot of blood and will need to be stabilized in order to receive a blood transfusion.
As they take her away, a doctor comes up to me, asking what happened and I tell him everything that occurred in the apartment.
He enters some notes into his iPad, “Is she on medication? Do you know if she took anything?”
“Yes, she’s on medication but I don’t think she overdosed. I just found her in the bathroom trying to slice open her wrists. Please, doctor, she’s all I have.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, “We’ll do our best.”
He walks away into the operating room and I crash into the wall next to me. Violent sobs ripple through my body as fear, anger, and failure fill my entire being. My hands ball into fists and I begin pounding the wall as I bawl for Raya.
“Fuck! I can’t do this. I can’t lose her again.”
My body slides down the wall and I crash onto the tile floor. I place my hands over my eyes and tears stream down my face.
A nearby nurse notices my outburst, “Sir, are you alright? You need to sit down. Come over here and relax. Would you like us to call anyone while you wait?”
I look up at her as she pulls me off the floor, “She means the world to me. Please save her.”
She nods, “We will do everything we can. Now, who can I call for you?”
&nb
sp; An hour later, Melanie meets me in the waiting room and rushes to give me a hug.
Tears fill her eyes, “What happened? How is she doing?”
My voice cracks and sobs take over, “Melanie, I messed up. I failed again.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Tell me everything.”
“I found her in the bathroom. It was horrifying. There was so much blood. What if she doesn’t make it? How am I supposed to live with this?”
She cradles my head into her chest, “Duke, be strong and have faith. Raya’s a fighter. She’ll pull through this.”
We continue to await the news from the doctor regarding Raya’s condition. I pace back and forth in the waiting room—my nerves are shot, my body is covered in sweat, and my eyes are puffy from all of the crying. Melanie is more calm and relaxed than I am. She’s patiently waiting, sitting in her chair and picking at her fingernails.
A few minutes later, the doctor comes in and Melanie and I practically tackle him.
I beg, “Give us some good news.”
He sighs, “Raya’s going to be alright.”
In unison, Melanie and I breathe a sigh of relief and I have the urge to burst into tears again.
“She lost of a lot of blood, but we were able to give her what she needed. Her wounds on her wrists are being treated and have been bandaged up.”
I ask, “So, when can she go home?”
The doctor shifts his eyes from me to Melanie, “Actually, due to her suicide attempt, it’s required that she be committed to a psychiatric facility for at least thirty days for an evaluation and treatment, if necessary.”
I’m shocked, “Wait, what? Thirty days? But how? Don’t we have a right to deny that treatment?”
The doctor shakes his head, “Unfortunately, no. We have the responsibility to make this decision for the wellbeing of our patient and this is what’s necessary to make her better.”
I shake my head, “But—”
Melanie stops me “Duke, don’t. He’s right and you know he’s right.”
I stare at her and silently concede. I let out a deep sigh and ask the doctor what we need to know about the facility. He gives us all of the details. Melanie walks away to give them a call to find out more information, including their visitation schedule.
The doctor smiles at me before he walks off, “She’s awake. You can go see her now.”
I motion to Melanie that I’m heading to her room and she gestures that she’ll be there in a moment. I walk into Raya’s room and see her sitting up in bed, drinking a cup of water.
I quietly enter, “Hey, how are you feeling?”
I notice the paleness of her skin and her lips are a slight shade of purple. I look down at her bandages on her wrists and reach out to touch them, but she pulls away.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. Are you alright?”
She just stares at me. No emotion. No sounds. She’s completely cut off.
“Raya, you can talk to me. You know that, right? I’m here to listen and I promise not to judge you. You don’t have to be ashamed.”
She looks down at my hand and I can hear her breathing. It’s steady and at a normal pace. She eases her hand closer and closer to mine, inch by inch. Finally, her hand touches mine and she cups it into hers. As we hold hands, she looks up at me as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t let out a sound, but I know she’s telling me something. She’s telling me, thank you. Her eyes say it all.
Raya’s been gone for a month now and it freaking kills me. To have her ripped away from me that night was torture, but I let her go for her own good. I wanted to kick someone’s ass that night, but Melanie kept me in check. Since then, we’ve visited her a few times and it’s been good to see her. The visitation only lasts for one hour once a week and it’s never enough. Melanie and I always go together, and each week, it’s the same thing. She’s distant and silent; always staring out into space. Sometimes, I wonder if her being there is even making a difference. Her attitude and mood swings confuse the shit out of me. One minute she’s holding my hand. The next, she practically ignores me as if I’m a leper.
Melanie talked to the residents and nursing staff and she says that they believe Raya is recovering slowly, especially this past week. As I get ready to head out for work, my phone rings and lights up with Melanie’s name.
I answer it, “Hey, I’m on my way to work. What’s up?”
“Duke, I just heard the best news!”
I can tell she’s been crying, “What is it?”
“The rehab center called me. They said Raya is doing so well and she even talked in group therapy today!”
I stop dead in my tracks, “She spoke? Out loud?”
“Yes! Can you believe it? They said that since this week is her last week anyway, we can go get her today, if we wanted to.”
“Oh fuck yes! I can’t believe she talked. What time do you want to get her? I should be done with work early today.”
“Come get me around three and we’ll go. This is so awesome. She’s slowly coming back to us!”
“Yeah, one step at a time. I don’t want to push her too far and have her regress. I’ll be downstairs at three. See you later.”
“Okay, bye!”
I hang up the phone and start fist pumping the air. She’s coming home today. I bust out into a little happy dance in the living room. As soon as I get to work, I tell Davis the great news and everyone congratulates me. Today’s been an awesome day and it’s only nine in the morning. In just a few hours, I’ll be able to get my girl and bring her home.
At ten to three, I pull up outside of Melanie’s apartment and honk the horn. Five minutes later, she races out of her building, squealing like a little girl. The grin on her face shows it all. She’s just as happy and excited as I am. Thirty minutes later, we pull up to the rehab center and race inside to check-in and bail Raya out of there. The receptionist calls a nurse to walk us to her room. My hands begin to sweat as the nerves come back yet again. No matter how many times I see her, she completely changes everything about me. Just seeing her face makes me happy and all mushy. Melanie peeks over at me and notices my nervousness and giggles.
I smile, “What? I’m just anxious to see her.”
“It’s cute, that’s all. You really care about her and it shines through.”
A few minutes later, we arrive at her room and I bust right in with Melanie following close behind. My eyes go straight to Raya as she stands by the window, looking out at the city’s skyscrapers. She’s wearing a cute sundress and a pair of flip flops. Her hair is brushed and its natural waves settle down her smooth back.
She turns around and locks eye contact with me as a huge grin lights up her face. Her new attitude has completely caught me off guard and I stand there in total shock and bewilderment.
Raya slowly walks up to me and whispers, “Duke.”
Duke
I’m stunned into silence as she says my name. Melanie evens gasps out loud in shock. Raya steps up closer to me and reaches up to touch my face. Her hands caress my cheeks and I lean into them as her soft fingers glide along my skin. My hand reaches up to hers and I grab onto it.
She smiles again, “You’re here now.”
I nod, “I’ll always be here for you. I promised, remember?”
She nods her head and steps into me as I wrap my arms around her. Feeling her so close to me feels fucking perfect. I can hear her sob quietly and I rub my hands along her soft hair. Her tears drip down onto my shirt, forming a small wet spot. We rock back and forth as we hold on to each other for several minutes. I don’t want to let go of her. It just feels so right.
We start to pull away and she looks over at Melanie and rushes into her arms. The two women bawl louder and happier than I’ve ever witnessed and it brings me so much joy to see it. Even the nurse sheds a few tears.
After the reunion, Melanie asks, “What…what changed, Raya?”
She sighs,
“It’s hard to say but it…it was my mom.”
Melanie and I stand still, stunned, “Your mom?”
Raya nods, “Yeah, she came to me in my dreams a few days ago and told me to open up again, to let people in. She said she wanted me to be happy. So here I am, trying to do what she wanted.”
I wrap my arm around her, “Well, I’m happy that you’re trying, Raya. I really am. Come, let’s get your things and get the hell out of here.”
The drive back home is full of excitement and optimism. Raya talks most of the way, telling us about her time in the rehab center. She tells us that she met a lot of other people who went through similar things which helped her in the end. I find a parking spot just outside my building and let the girls out as I grab Raya’s things out of the trunk. We make our way upstairs and into the apartment and I bring her things into her room. I turn back into the hallway to see her standing in the bathroom, staring at the floor.
I walk up behind her, “Are you alright?”
She sniffles and I gently place my hand on her shoulder.
She whispers, “Duke, can we talk?”
I spin her around to face me and see tears drip down her face, “Of course we can talk. Tell me anything.”
“I mean…can we talk in private?”
“Oh…okay. I’ll ask Melanie to leave.”
Minutes later, Melanie hugs us good-bye and leaves the apartment. I lock the door behind her and see Raya sit on the sofa. I offer her a glass of water but she denies it. She pats the spot next to her, so I sit.
She sighs, “Duke, I don’t know what people have told you but I want to be the one to tell you everything. And I mean everything that happened to me.”
I hold her hand, “Are you sure you want to tell me? It’s not too soon?”
She shakes her head, “No, I need to let it out so you know how fucked up I am.”
“Raya, you’re—”
“Duke, don’t. Let me speak, please.”
I nod my head, and for the next two hours, she tells me her story, starting with how she ended up in Chicago, to meeting Layla and Derrick, and finally her captivity. .
As she tells me the details of her first night, I try to relax and breathe through it. While she speaks, her body slightly trembles and tears slide down her pink cheeks. She tells me about Derrick and how he tortured and beat her. I even learn about the tattoo and what it means. The numbers are the letters of the alphabet. They make the word angel. That’s what Derrick called her…his Angel. She divulges everything about the auctions and her nights with various men. She tells me about Layla’s death, which she blames herself for, and she tells me about West and his death during the raid. After she’s done laying it all on the table, I cradle her into my chest and let her cry it out.
Little Things Page 23