by E. V. White
Alex moved his hand away terrified. The expression on his face revealed that he had no idea what to do to tranquilize her. This time, he tried to touch only her hand but Emily began to shout even more.
“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” It was the only thing she could say. Shouting. Making the fear in his eyes grow even more and more.
She was behaving as a lunatic but did not seem to realise it. Perhaps because she had really gone insane.
Alex stepped back, looked around as if he was searching for something. Then he took the glass and filled it with scotch. He handed it to her but she hit him with such force that the glass in his hand shattered on the floor. Emily continued waving her hands in the air trying to push him away, not realising he was already at some distance from her and was looking at her with anguish in his eyes.
Alex took the pack that usually contained her oxycodone dose from the floor where it had fallen in the confusion. He turned, went to the kitchen counter, took the jar with the money they had earned along the Thames and went back to Emily.
“Wait here. I’ll be back soon,” he tried to reassure her with a concern that almost hurt.
Emily had not noticed that Alex had left the apartment and that she was there alone. She continued waving her hands trying to ward off the fear she felt. She began to feel dizzy, continued to inhale but was unable to exhale the air. Only when she collapsed on the couch did she realise that, perhaps, if she emptied her lungs by screaming, she could let more air in. And so, she did. She buried her face in the gap between the two leather cushions and screamed.
Alex was standing on the front step of Bobby’s house. He had been there for a couple of minutes. He knew he was doing something absolutely stupid for both Emily and himself, but had no idea how to turn the current situation around. He needed to calm her down but did not know how. He was still wound up by her reaction at his attempts to touch her; he had never seen anyone lose control like that. Even his mother going mad and hitting him on the head with her hand covered with rings did not frighten him as much. At such times, as a child, he felt more anger rather than fear. With Emily, on the other hand, he felt sheer terror. It was different; she was scared to death and did not seem to recognise him. She was terrified by someone or something and he wasn’t sure that it was him. When she looked into his eyes less than an hour earlier, she did not really see him. He had the distinct impression that she did not even recognise him.
Alex took a further step towards the door and knocked. Less than a minute later, when he had already thought about leaving at least fifteen times, Bobby opened the door and grinned seeing the jar with the money in the boy’s hand.
“Let me guess,” the man began. “You’d like to try something more than alcohol,” he baited him.
Alex did not look up at him; he was ashamed of what he was doing.
“Something like that,” he lied.
He did not know if he was lying to protect Emily or because he was becoming aware of how ludicrous his choice of helping her was.
“I knew she’d have eventually dragged you down with her,” the man attested with a grin. “So, oxycodone or…something else?” He asked.
“That’ll do,” the lad responded almost in a whisper.
Bobby smiled and disappeared behind the door. He returned a few minutes later with a small container identical to the one Emily had.
“How much?” Alex asked, still not looking at him.
“First time’s free. You’ll come back soon enough, though,” said the man in a cheeky tone putting the small box in his hand. “I added a little something for your friend as well, so you can have fun together,” he smirked.
Alex took the box and put it in his pocket, turned around and silently walked quickly towards the tube station.
Alex took a few deep breaths then opened the door. All the fear and discomfort that had faded away during the journey home returned even more forcibly once he saw Emily curled up on the couch, shaking and crying hysterically. He approached her but did not touch her since she tried to run away and started to shout when she saw him approaching her. Alex looked into her eyes and a mixture of pain and fear made him feel distraught, as he realised that those empty eyes of hers did not recognise him. He put the box on the coffee table in front of the couch, filled her glass with scotch and left her alone, hoping she would notice the dose he had left for her.
He walked over to the kitchen counter. He sat on a stool and stared at the pile of sheets he had left there a few hours earlier. He picked them up and noticed it was the song he had begun writing. He smiled a bitter and wistful smile. He thought about what was happening to his life: Emily, Matt, the talent manager. So many things were happening that he did not even have the time – nor the will – to focus on the one thing he had to do: write those two new songs.
He took a pen and began to write a few meaningless words at first. The ink coming out of the half-eaten pen was staining his hands and the sheet of paper, but he did not care. Initially, they were only a few scant words and then they started to take the form of verses that perfectly suited his soul.
The noise of a glass breaking on the floor summoned Alex from his diversion from the rest of the world. He was so absorbed in creating the song that he did not become aware that Emily had stopped crying. He turned around towards the couch and felt his heart stop and then start pumping furiously in his chest. Emily was lying on the pillows. Her face was pale, her eyes closed and the arm with which she was holding the glass dangled. She seemed to be dead.
Alex was convinced she was. He ran to her, air struggled to enter his lungs.
“Emily, wake up. Wake up, please,” he whispered, holding her in his arms.
The girl did not answer. Alex tried to see if she was breathing but was not sure that she was. Panic took over and he began to shake her with increasing violence.
“Emily, wake up, please. Wake up. Wake up,” he kept repeating.
Tears clouded his sight as he looked around for something that could help her. He noticed the box he got from Bobby was entirely empty; he tried to open her mouth to make her spit out the pills she had just taken. He felt under her tongue with his fingers but there was nothing; she swallowed everything with the alcohol. He saw the phone on the kitchen counter, ran to pick it up and rang the ambulance. While answering the operator’s questions he continued to read the words of the song he was writing and realised how wrong they were at that precise moment. He left them there to go back to take care of Emily. He held her in his arms and waited for somebody to come and help him. Tears flowed and had no intention of stopping, the operator’s voice was just an incompressible sound and when the sheet of paper fell to the ground, he couldn’t help but think again of how wrong those words really were.
She feels cold in her old bones.
The thoughts she keeps are hers alone.
Father’s gone mother’s unknown
Is there a place that she can call her home?
I will find her somewhere safe
A house a home a resting place
I’ll give the love she needs from me
our hearts entwined for eternity
Alex was sitting on the chair next to Emilyʼs bed. The sound that came from the machines connected to the girlʼs chest and arms no longer distressed him. The sun was rising and hit his face as it beamed through the window. He looked younger when he slept, though those deep dark circles under his eyes accentuated his tiredness. He had worried so much about her the night before that he believed he had suffered a heart attack while holding her in his arms. He literally felt his heart ache to death in his chest. The pain was so strong he had stopped breathing to the point of almost fainting. When the paramedics arrived, they had to break through the door to enter and encountered some difficulties extracting Emily from his arms.
The door opened and a nurse came in to check the girl. Alex emerged from his exhaustion and took a moment to remember where he was.
“How is
she?” He asked the woman, his voice hoarse and slurred.
The nurse turned and smiled at him.
“You should ask the doctor. Sheʼs at the front desk right now if you would like to talk to her,” she suggested gently.
Alex left the room and looked for the doctor. He found her at the entrance, as the nurse had said. He went up to her in a sluggish pace. He wanted to know how she was, but at the same time, he was terrified by what he would find out. What would happen if she had suffered permanent damage? It was his fault. He had helped her get the drugs; he had almost helped her kill herself.
“Hello...” he said in a whisper; his voice was much more uncertain than he wished.
The doctor turned and looked at him straight in those terrified eyes of his. At first, her expression was hard and focused, but when she saw the desperation in his eyes, her features softened.
“Are you her boyfriend?” She asked without even asking his name or what he wanted; the boyʼs hysteria while they were taking the girl in one of the rooms in the ER might have remained stuck in her mind.
Alex wanted to tell her no, that they had just met but then he thought that if he were not someone close to her, they would probably not answer his questions.
“Yes...” he said shyly; that woman had the ability to make him feel like a schoolchild in front of his teacher.
“Do you know how to find her family?” She said with a smile. “Parents, brothers, sisters... she didn’t have any ID with her,” she tried to guide him.
“I’m her family. She’s got no one but me,” he said hoping no one entered the front door and unmask his charade. He did not know anything about her.
The doctor sighed and looked at him with concern.
“Sheʼll be fine,” she tried to reassure him, but the expression on her face did not back up her words.
Alex partially exhaled a breath he was holding, but he knew that the bad news was yet to come. He could read it in her eyes.
“The thing that worries me the most is that next month she will probably be here again and she may not be so lucky again,” she explained.
Alex listened to the woman with anxiety escalating its way into his system. He knew that she was right.
“Sheʼs a drug addict. She takes oxycodone, which is a medication a doctor may prescribe, but can also be addictive. She had taken so many pills she almost stopped breathing,” she continued, ignoring the boyʼs increasing pale colour.
Alex breathed heavily and had the distinct impression he would faint at any moment. He was listening to all his fears being stated out loud, one after the other. A barrage of memories from his childhood were making their way into his mind, and he struggled to contain them; they were things that had to stay in his past because he would not have been able to deal with them at his current state.
“She needs help,” the doctor advised. “She needs your help,” she tried to convince him.
Alex was not even listening anymore. He just kept nodding to everything she was saying, but his brain did not register a single word of the conversation. When he finally realised that no one was no longer in front of him, he turned and walked back into Emilyʼs room.
The girl was breathing deeply and seemed peaceful. Alex looked at her and sat back down next to her on the chair, thinking about what to do. The doctor was right, she needed to clean herself up; otherwise, she would not be so lucky next time.
Alex fell asleep with his head resting on the bed.
He woke up with a terrible neck pain. He was still leaning against the mattress. He looked out the window. He could still see the sun following its arch over London rooftops. Not much time has passed since he had talked to the doctor. He looked around and noticed a couple of leaflets on the bedside table. He picked one up and perused through it. It was the information sheet of a rehabilitation centre. He picked up the second one; it was of a similar centre. They seemed clean, comfortable, professional and very, very expensive. A couple of days a month as a model were not enough to pay for such a thing. Maybe he could pull it off with a full-time job.
Alex looked at the brochures then turned his glance to Emily. She was so peaceful when she slept. He was certain that she could somehow beat the addiction and come out of it once and for all. She looked strong and smart and that gave him some hope.
The door opened and a woman entered the room. She was not wearing a white coat and did not seem to be part of the hospital staff. Alex wondered if she was a relative of Emily.
“Good morning,” she smiled at Alex.
He was a bit surprised but answered with a smile nonetheless.
“Good morning,” he stammered.
“Iʼm the hospital psychologist. I left you those,” she said, answering his doubts.
Alex looked at the pieces of paper in his hand.
“I can help you get her into one of those facilities, if you want,” she proposed.
“Okay...” Alex said. “But they seem particularly expensive,” he added.
“I know, but perhaps I can get her in for free, for the minimum treatment,” she explained.
“Minimum treatment?” Alex asked puzzled.
“Until the withdrawal symptoms have passed,” she answered.
“And then what?” Alex asked. “Iʼm not an expert but I think the worst part comes right after that,” he pointed out with concern.
The woman looked slightly uncomfortable but then pulled herself together and immediately put a smile back on her face. Alex knew she was just doing her job, but it seemed to him as if she was trying to sell a brand new car. He did not like that feeling.
“I know sheʼs going to go through a difficult stage, but you will be there with her. A rehab treatment, although minimum, is better than nothing, isnʼt it?” She urged. “You won’t be able to deal with the withdrawal symptoms on your own.”
Alex looked over at Emily. Could he really be enough for her? He had put her in that situation, at least for the overdose. He had bought the drugs. He felt as if he had completely failed her in everything he tried to do.
“How much for the entire treatment?” He asked her.
“Fifteen thousand pounds. More or less,” she informed him with a casualness that contradicted with the enormity of the sum she had just given.
Alex felt that he was being hit between the eyes; he did not expect to hear such an amount. Two, maybe three thousand pounds, but he certainly did not expect fifteen. It was a huge amount of savings even for those who had a full-time job.
“Can I think about it?” He asked in a tone of defeat.
“Yes, of course,” the woman replied. “But don’t brush the minimum treatment aside. It’s not a waste of time, believe me,” she tried to convince him.
Alex did not answer but looked back at Emily and took her hand full of needles and cannulas. She looked so vulnerable on that bed. He wondered, however, if she would accept to detox. Alex had not considered that eventuality until then, but it was a possibility. He did not have the faintest idea why she had started with oxycodone. Maybe she just wanted to get high, who was he to tell her she could not do it? With this thought, however, one thing popped into his mind that somehow did not seem right. He had never regarded her as a classic junkie. She appeared alert and seemed to have a purpose other than just getting high all day long. Another person in her situation would have never worried about how to repay him for his hospitality. She was someone who was worth saving. At that moment, Alex knew he did not want to lose her. Maybe it was a selfish thought but he did not want to let her go. He had already lost someone important to him; he did not want to let it happen again. Not again, especially because of him.
Emily slightly moved and opened her eyes, distracting him from his thoughts. Alex instantly directed his attention to her and smiled. The girl tried to speak but could not.
“Donʼt worry, they intubated you last night; thatʼs why you find it difficult to speak,” he tried to reassure her.
Emily nodded and pointed with her hand to
the plastic cup on the bedside table. Alex stood up, poured a bit of water and helped her drink.
“Youʼll be fine, okay?” He whispered in a firm voice.
He wanted to tell her that it was a promise but did not have the courage. He was not good at those kinds of promises, especially since she ended up in there because of him.
Emily stared at him with apprehension; he returned the look with a wistful smile.
“I have to go right now but I’ll be back soon, okay?” He informed her.
She nodded and smiled timidly. Alex turned and left the room as he watched the girl sink back into a deep sleep.
*
Alex stood in front of a huge mansion in the London countryside. The idea that he had to ring the doorbell led his bravery to abandon him immediately as he thought of the people who lived inside the estate. He could not even call it home. It was no longer his home since his grandfather died.
He slowly climbed the ten steps that separated him from the heavy wooden door and rang the bell. A few moments later, a tall, white-haired man wearing a perfectly smart suit opened the door. A surprised and worried look appeared on his face.
“Mr. Williams,” he murmured, but it sounded more like an exclamation of surprise than a greeting.
“Edward. It’s nice to see you again,” Alex said, genuinely pleased to see the man.
Edward was the butler of his family since he could remember. He was the man who had raised him together with his grandfather and was the only person he cared about in that house.
The man stepped aside and let him in. Alex walked into the hall and stopped. Nothing had changed since the last time he had been there: a huge painting of his parents hung on the wall and nothing else to acknowledge the other individuals who lived there. It was an accurate depiction though. No one besides the employees lived there with them. One by one, everyone had left the house.