by Urban, Ami
Stop! Stop!
But I couldn’t. Tears streamed down my cheeks in torrents. I could feel the fleshy segments of my small intestine as it ascended through my windpipe. Hand over hand, I continued to watch as I gutted myself.
Grunts and whimpers escaped me with each tug on my insides. Then an idea exploded in my head. It wasn’t a good idea, but it was something.
Bite down.
And I did. Without a second thought, I clamped my jaws down. I met spongey resistance but kept going. I needed air. A fresh wave of burning pain spread through my mouth from my exposed gum. I ignored it. My teeth met, clicking together in a macabre musical note.
A dark black, slimy substance oozed down my chest into my lap. The severed end of my small intestine slid slowly down my stomach, plopping onto the table.
Swallow.
Pushing my tongue up, I contracted the back of my throat, the chunk of flesh in my mouth sliding backward.
I gagged, choking on a fresh batch of the bitter, black substance.
Oh, God. It’s shit. It’s shit!
I ignored the voice, slamming my fist on the table under me and forcing the remainder of my own organ back down to my stomach.
It passed the end of my esophagus once more in a painful squeeze. Immediately, I sucked in a lungful of cold, fresh air.
Then I fell back onto the table. The dots were back. Bigger this time. The fog rolled in, numbing the spasms and pain. Blackness fell over me.
I shot up in bed, gasping and reaching for my own mouth. My shaking fingers probed every part of my body to make sure I was still intact. I was. Relief so intense pumped through me that before I knew what was happening, I was shaking uncontrollably.
You’re such a fucking pansy.
“Shut the fuck up, you piece of absolute shit!” My harsh whisper rang out in the dark, empty room. I didn’t want to wake Lisa. She’d had a difficult day at the hospital.
Difficult my ass. All she had to do was give you more Oxy.
And she did. She gave it to me after the procedure. No, wait…there hadn’t been a procedure. There hadn’t even been a conversation between Brendon and Lisa that I’d been privy to. I’d been on thirty milligrams for two weeks. My brain had just made everything up.
‘Cause you’re a drug addi—
“Say it and you’re deader.” My head went quiet. I pushed the sheets off my lower half and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Sweat had caused my under shirt and boxers to cling to my skin. As I stood, my left knee gave out. I hunched over, catching myself on the bedside table. My teeth snapped shut in a grimace.
I glanced at the clock. Six hours until my next dose. No way I was getting back to sleep like that.
Thirty isn’t even enough for you? Jesus, man.
Staggering into the bathroom, I searched my mind for anything that could put me back to sleep. If I wanted weed, I’d have to find Brendon. But I remembered what happened last time. He was either asleep at this hour or…
You don’t want to know.
“Exactly.” I pulled open the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Among the prescription bottles, toothpaste and various soaps, a black plastic pouch stared back at me. I snatched it out. Unzipping it almost felt like a small flood of endorphins. Inside, one of the hypodermic needles caught the light, glinting into my eye and causing me to wince.
Look. There’s six left. Just take one early to get back to sleep. She won’t even notice. She trusts you too much.
A pang of guilt punched me full-force in the gut. He was right. She did trust me. And she wouldn’t ever look in the pouch. With shaking fingers, I removed one of the hypos from its sheath. The sound of felt rubbing against felt rang in my ears. I hoped it didn’t wake Lisa. Placing the pouch back in the medicine cabinet, I stared at my reflection.
Fucking jun—
“Shut it. Now. I’m serious.”
Redrum! Redrum!
I rolled my eyes, slouching onto the toilet lid. My weight sagged. I stared at the needle in my palm. Another ten. That made forty.
Yeah, but you can’t OD until you hit at least a hundred.
“How do you know that?”
Silence.
“Figures.” I popped the top off the syringe and slid it into my thigh. A tiny prick of pain was quickly overshadowed by the medicine flowing through my veins. A long string of blood pulled back from the needle when I was finished. I allowed my head to fall back against the wall.
Ooh. So good…
“Yeah, so now you can go crawl into a hole and disappear.”
Oh…so hard to be mad when you’re this relaxed…
“Amen.”
A soft knock on the door caused me to jump. Lisa called my name. I acknowledged it, fumbling to hide the empty needle. At the last second, I decided to drop it in the toilet between my legs. Then, I lidded the seat again as she was coming in.
“You alright?” She looked sleepy. Her eyes were only slits.
“Yeah. Nod.”
“Ah.” She lifted her head to get a look at me. Then she came over to check my pulse. “Did I hear you talking?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. To myself.” After a short pause, I continued. “The plan was to wake you up in a special way, but I came in her to…prepare.”
I could almost hear the record scratch as she froze. “Prepare?”
There was laughing in my head. “Yeah. You know. Fluff?”
She dropped my wrist. “Jack.”
“Lisa.”
She looked hard at me, studying my face. “If you still have some pain, you can take some Excedrin. Just remember to chew them so they absorb quicker.”
“I remember,” I said. “But it was just a bad dream. No pain.”
Liar, liar, plants for hire.
From the desk of Dr. Lisa Reynolds – June 18
Forgive me. It’s been a long few weeks. Between battling for patients with Dr. Wood, attending surgeries with Brendon or caring for Jack, I’ve had no time or energy to write. I fear Jack’s pain is getting worse and the Oxycontin is no longer working properly. If he exceeds our dose by a fraction of a milligram, he’ll become addicted in no time.
And Scott required much attention. I’d begun to avoid him unconsciously. Many days, he’d sought out my advice as I was leaving the hospital to go home. I’d have to give him another hour of my day. And because of that, I stopped eating at the cafeteria about a month prior. I missed his skills, but I just couldn’t handle the amount of validation he gave me.
A knock sounded at my office door. Before I could answer, Brendon let himself in, a smile lighting up his face.
“I gotta surprise for you, Mama Reynolds!”
“Is it an alternate universe where the apocalypse never happened?”
He laughed. “It’s better than that.” He held up his cellphone as if he wanted me to see something on it. “The search party just called. They found a saw.”
I stood up, pushing my chair into the wall behind me. “They didn’t.”
“They did.” He bounced on his toes, then held a hand out. “Shall we?”
He followed me out the door. While walking down to the nurse’s station, I felt a tug on my ponytail.
“This is new, Bunny.”
“My hair is getting too long.”
“I like it.”
Nurse Harper was diligently at her station, updating charts and performing basic administrative tasks. She smiled when she saw us.
“We need to schedule Jack’s surgery,” I said, tapping my palm against the counter.
“Oh, great!” Harper lit up. “They found a saw?”
“A working one,” Brendon added.
Harper giggled. “So, I gathered. When did you want to pencil Mr. Reynolds in?”
I glanced up the hallway in time to see Scott notice me. He smiled, waved and began approaching as my shoulders fell.
“As soon as possible.”
“Dr. Reynolds!” Scott was closer.
Harper tapped a few keys
. “You’ve got time tomorrow. Tuesday.”
How ironic.
“Great.”
“Nine am or one pm?”
“AM.”
“Okay.” She clicked her mouse, then smiled. “All set. Should I give him a call.”
Scott had slid into place beside me, so I nodded. I felt a hint of anger inside me. This young boy had taken a special thing from me. I wanted to be able to tell my husband the good news. Not a nurse. It should’ve come from me.
“Oh, Dr. B, before I forget…” Harper swiveled in her chair and picked up a post-it note. “Dr. Kincaid called and said there’s an emergency ten minutes away. You’ve got two GSW’s. One to the thorax and one to the trunk.”
“Are you catching bugs or going antiquing?” Scott joked while setting a to-go container on the desk.
Brendon chuckled. “Neither by the sounds of it. Or maybe both.” He took the note. It slid from her hand with a swish. “What matters is that by the end of my shift, I’ll have a set of earrings!” He strolled off down the hall toward the OR singing, “I’m falling through the doors of the emergency room. Can anybody help me with these exit wounds?”
I turned to Scott as Harper picked up the phone to call my husband. “Got a minute?”
I inhaled and smiled. “Sure.”
I brushed my ponytail off my shoulder as we approached my office. It was getting close to the end of my shift and I wanted to go home. Brendon had come in to relieve me, but with an emergency happening, I’d have to stay longer. Who knew how long?
“I brought you shepherd’s pie.” Scott smiled as he set the container down in front of me. “Special and fresh for you.”
“Much appreciated. Thank you. What would you like to talk about today?”
He frowned slightly when I didn’t start eating right away. “Had a nightmare last night.”
I shifted in my seat. “Okay. Continue.”
After a shrug, he said, “Same one. Chased, bitten, turned, chased again. It’s just that… This time…the ending was different.”
“How so?”
He seemed uncomfortable, shifting around in the seat a few times before settling again. “Well… You know how, at the end, I usually twist off the wasp’s head?”
“Sure.” But I wasn’t quite as focused on his words as I should have been.
“Well, this time…it was a person.”
Interesting. “Did this person have a face?”
He nodded.
“Anyone you know?”
Another nod. Then silence. I waited. Sometimes, patients just needed time to collect their thoughts before they spoke again. “It was…Jack.”
I felt my eyes widen. “My Jack?”
“Yeah.” He brushed a hand through his red hair. “He looks mean. Like, his eyes are all black and he’s growling like a demon. In the dream, I know he’s gonna kill me unless I do it first. And it’s…so easy.”
Something in what he said sent a shiver cascading down my spine. Or perhaps it was the way he said it. It could’ve even been the motion he’d performed with his hands. That sick twist of two balled fists came with a barely audible snap.
“I just don’t get it.” He looked up at me, something odd hovering behind his gaze. “Do you?”
I cleared my throat, leaning forward to place my weight on my hands. “Scott, are you familiar with Transference?”
He shook his head after a moment’s thought.
“It’s a well-documented phenomenon. Essentially, you and I have a prior relationship as doctor-patient. When I returned, there was a sort of latching on. It’s not your fault. It happens.”
His smile disappeared. “I don’t understand.”
Putting words in his mouth was the last thing I wanted to do. I leaned closer. “Scott, do you think it’s possible you dreamt about killing Jack because you may have some feelings for me?”
There was a moment of startled silence where he said nothing. His green eyes were wide open and staring. Then, he tossed his head back and began laughing. Almost hysterically. I waited for him to finish.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Reynolds.” He let out a few heartier chuckles before continuing. “I should’ve told you. Mina and I are dating. We’re just keeping it on the quiet side.”
Nodding, I sat back. “You two are a good match.”
The smile was back. “Thanks.” His gaze flicked to the to-go container once more. “Don’t be shy.”
“Oh, I’m not.” I put a hand over my heart. “I’m just not hungry at the moment.”
“I think I dreamed about killing your old man because he left me to die.” His tone was light, but the words dark.
“Well, he didn’t—”
“No, I know. But you know what I mean.”
“Sure. Are you harboring any resentment?”
He shrugged, his face suddenly melting into something I didn’t recognize. “I mean…yeah.”
“Okay.” I stood up. “Well, we’ll have to decide whether you want to take medication to try and stop the dreams or do some cognitive behavioral therapy to let go of your anger.”
Scott chuckled again, then put his hands up. “Oh, I didn’t want anything out of this other than getting it off my chest.”
To me, though? Why?
“Alright. I’m glad I could help.”
June 19 – Jack Reynolds
It was a bit past midnight when I decided it was probably time to call it a day. Pfft. Day.
Ain’t day no more.
“Nope.” I elongated the word softly as I closed the hood of a van I’d been working on. The sun had been down for a while. I’d had dinner hours ago and the kids had gone to bed shortly after. I knew Lisa had to pull a double shift for some reason and I’d had a major attack of insomnia.
Pfft. Insomnia. Call it what you want. You know you’re up ‘cause you shot a fifty three hours ago. Then another ten an hour after that. You’re a drug ad—
“Fuck off.” Wiping my hands on an already dirty rag, I made my way toward a bench with an accumulation of tools I’d collected over the past few weeks. Crickets began to make themselves known, filling my ears with their song. A cool breeze swept through the garage, leaving goosebumps on my bare arms.
I grabbed the blue rubber hose coiled at the side of the house. That was my favorite part about closing shop when I worked with Silas. I loved watching the shot of water cut through the black grime coating the concrete.
Yeah. You always liked doing the weird intern shit. Never understood you, man.
I swung the hose in an arch, clearing away the dust and dirt from my work. Black rivers ran between the cracks in the driveway.
“Shit’s oddly satisfying. Leave me alone.”
Come to think of it…you were always weird.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks…”
Remember that time when we were seniors and I was gonna get you laid, but you fucking chickened out? The fuck was that about?
“I didn’t chicken out. She was drunk, asshole. I wasn’t about to get charged with rape.”
Pfft. You’re just a pussy. I got laid three times that night and never got in trouble.
“Maybe that’s because you were kind of a whore.”
I made my way back up the driveway, clearing small areas of dirt as I went.
Nah. I was a normal kid.
“Normal isn’t fucking everything with tits in a five mile vicinity.”
Yeah, it ain’t losing your virginity at twenty to a hooker, either.
I stopped, halfway between hosing down the grass by the spigot. The stream of water cut off, dripping from the end of the attachment.
“You promised you’d never bring that up. Ever.”
A loud cackling filled my head, making my eyelids snap closed. Why the fuck was he trying to get under my skin? Why was he dredging up shit from the past like an asshole?
“There you are.”
Her voice made me jump, causing me to drop the hose. Before it could hit the floor, I maneuvered out
of its way. Water splashed softly around the attachment it as it made contact with the concrete.
“Shit. You scared me.” I stared at the hose as if it’d called my mom a nasty name.
Lisa’s hands shot to her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
When I finally looked up, my head cocked to the side. Her normally professional manner of dressing was more casual than I’d seen in a while. I was used to seeing her in scrubs, a conservative dress or a skirt and blouse. But that night, she was wearing a pair of jeans so tight her ass looked freaking dynamite. And the top she was wearing came to just above her belly button. A sliver of her porcelain flesh was visible beneath its hem.
“You finally off?” It was all I could manage. I’d tried to be coy and lean against my work bench, but it was behind me in the garage and I almost fell on my ass.
She pretended not to notice and instead I showed her inside. After all, she’d never been in it. “Yes.”
It felt like she had more to say, but I let the silence stretch on for a few seconds. “You look cute, Foxtrot. Real cute.”
Holy shit. I think she blushed. Even if I’m wrong, she definitely smiled after that. “You weren’t in our room. Someone said you were still working. Is everything alright?”
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep.” I tossed the dirty rag onto my workbench.
Liar.
If he was real, I’d fucking kill him again for interrupting my thoughts all the time.
“I figured I’d hear you pull up. Guess I was just too deep into it.”
“Did you speak to Harper?”
“Yep. Good news all around, huh?”
For some reason, my words caused her to chew on her bottom lip, sending a ribbon of heat through my groin. I fucking loved it when she did that.
“I missed you today,” I said, feeling dumb immediately. But when her expression changed into one that gave me butterflies, the feeling melted away.
She made a sound in the back of her throat. “I missed you, too. Actually, I was thinking about you right before I left.”
“Oh, yeah?” Pretending like I’d turned her words into dirty ones in my head, I took a step toward her, aiming to place a hand on her hip.