Escaping The Shadows Anthology: Shenanigans'19 @ The West Midlands Book Signing.

by Maria Lazarou

  This is the fourth time I’ve seen this man come in with different injuries or because he’s taken something to try and kill himself. It just breaks my heart. When we’re doing our medical training, we’re told not to get emotionally involved with patients; treat them and send them on their way is the protocol, but with him, my heart just bleeds. The sadness on his face every time he’s brought in gets worse with every visit.

  Out of the four times he’s been here I’ve only treated him twice. The other times I couldn’t do it, I walked away and let a colleague of mine see to him. I had to; I don’t trust myself not to cross the line that could result in me losing my job. From what I’ve seen going on in between looking after my other patients, is that he’s come in because he’s had to have his stomach pumped again. Pills and booze seem to be his favourite. I pumped his stomach the first time I treated him and it wasn’t a pretty sight. We barely just got him back and when we did, he wasn’t happy about it. He just cried and screamed at us to just let him die. I can see he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, he’s letting whatever it is that’s made him like this beat him down.

  To see a grown man of his stature, break down in a room full of complete strangers would affect anyone. Let alone a young woman who always cares more than she should about her patients. If it didn’t pull at your heartstrings in anyway at all, then you would either have to have a swinging brick in place of your heart or you’re dead inside.

  Standing at the nurses station with a another patient’s notes laid out in front of me, I pretend that I’m reading through them but my eyes keep drifting to his cubicle where he’s lying on a bed and getting more agitated by the minute. The charcoal we used to empty his body of the overdose he attempted stains his khaki coloured t-shirt, a t-shirt that clings to every sculpted muscle of his arms and chest. The doctor in me knows I shouldn’t be looking at him like that, but the woman in me can’t help it. If it was under different circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to give him my number, only it is what it is and I can’t.

  “Will someone please just let me fucking go, I’ve been here for hours already.” He shouts as he rattles the bed rails causing the whole bed to shake. No-one answers him and I go back to pretending that I’m looking at the notes I still have in my hand. I find myself reading the same line over, and over again. Shaking my head, I clear my thoughts as I really need to concentrate on the notes in front of me. I find what I need just as I hear his deep voice roar.

  “You.” He barks which causes my head to snap up.

  “M... m... me?” I stutter as I press a hand to my chest.

  Why would he be talking to me? I’m not treating him.

  “Yes, you. Come here will ya please?”

  I tell myself that I’m only doing this to stop him from yelling some more and causing an even bigger scene. To stop him from getting into trouble with security, who will have problem calling the police if they have to.

  Closing the file, I hold it close to my chest like a shield, hoping that it will protect me and stop me from saying or doing something stupid.

  I know I need to be professional, after all it is my job, but there’s just something about this man that has me intrigued. It also helps the fact he’s got a body that makes your knickers wet from just looking at it. God, I really do need to get laid.

  Chapter Three

  Blake

  I’ve seen this doctor before. If my memory serves me right then she’s treated me once, when I’d popped the pills and swallowed them down with a bottle of Jack the first and second time. She might take pity on me and let me out of this joint. She looks like the kinda doctor that just feels that little bit too much for her patients. Maybe if I lay it on thick, promise to be good. That I have no intentions of coming back here anytime soon then maybe, just maybe she’ll discharge me.

  “You.”

  She looks at me in shock, as if I shouldn’t be talking to her. She’s a doctor, why wouldn’t I talk to her?

  She walks towards my bed with a folder held tight to her chest and stutters something under her breath about not knowing if it’s her I’m actually talking too.

  “Can I help you?” She asks a little unsure of herself, not knowing what to do.

  “Yes, you can. I need out of here and you’re going help me do it.” I’m being forward with her, but I couldn’t care less. I need out of this place and I need out fast. The look on her face tells me she’s heard me correctly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You’re going to get me out of here. What’s your name doctor?”

  “What makes you think I’ll help you? My name is Doctor Grant.”

  “Well, Doctor Grant, you’re going to sign my discharge papers and say I’m fit to leave this shit hole. If I stay here another minute, I will lose my fucking marbles.”

  I can feel myself getting agitated, and when I see her smirk it pisses me off more. I’m about to raise hell even further when she starts to speak.

  “First of all, I don’t appreciate your tone of voice, secondly I’m not your doctor. So, I don’t have a say in when you can leave, but what I will do for you, is speak to your doctor and get you assessed.” She tells me all professional and shit. I’m not use to people telling me what to do, normally it’s the other way around.

  “Assessed? Are you taking the fucking piss, doc? I’ve been poked and prodded enough already, just let me fucking go.”

  She looks at me as if she’s about burst into tears, I don’t want her pity. I sure as hell don’t deserve it. Feeling like all my energy has gone, and not getting anywhere with her. I give up trying and turn my body away from her. I try to think of a different way to get out of here, but it’s no use, and I find myself slowing drifting off to sleep. The last thing I need is to fall into a deep sleep here where it takes me back to a place I never want to visit again, but I will, I know I will. It happens every time I close my eye. I need to stay awake.

  The last thing I see is the plain, cream clinical walls of the hospital and then there’s a whole of blackness before the flashbacks start to come at me full force again.

  “No……” I bolt up in bed, the pain as real as if it was on the day. My team lying lifeless right in front of me, the same dead look in Preston’s eyes. I look down at my hands expecting to see blood covering them, but there’s nothing. Instead I find myself holding onto something; better yet someone.

  “Mr Michaels, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital…. you need to let go of my wrist.” I hear her voice before I see her. Her voice is shaking and full of fear.

  I look down at my hands again I see I have a tiny wrist held in my tight grasp. Realisation kicks in and I release my death grip on her.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Four

  Gabi

  It’s been three days since I had my wrist grabbed by a patient. Three days of trying to figure out what was going on in his head to cause him to act out like that. The whole time he was in the A&E department, I’d never seen him violent towards a member of staff, cheeky yes, agitated, definitely, but never like that.

  I look down at the wrist he grabbed and I can see the bruise he made, perfect purple and yellow finger marks graze my skin. The fact he left the bruise in the first place doesn’t bother me in the slightly, it’s the fact he didn’t even realise he was doing it. no recitation of what he doing at all. That has me thinking there’s more to his story than meets the eye.

  I just wish I had another chance to speak to him, but I don’t. How the hell he got himself discharged after that incident, I have no idea, but he did. The doctor treating him signed his papers and off he went. Not before he walked right up to me and whispered that he was sorry for what happened. I didn’t have time to reply as he was gone quicker than you could say all hail Mary.

  I’ve tried to forget about him, I have, but there’s just something about him. Something about his whole situation that keeps playing out in my head. Making it i
mpossible to think straight, or to even think of anything else.

  I’m just about to finish my twelve hour shift, I’m knackered and feel like I could sleep for a week, but I need caffeine and I need it like yesterday. So, without even thinking, my feet are already on the move and dragging me to the coffee shop. It’s located just around the corner from the hospital and a fifteen minute walk from my apartment. I could grab a coffee at home, but it’s never the same as when you buy one. It’s just a fact. My mouth is watering just thinking about this damn coffee. Caramel latte is the best thing since sliced bread and my daily lifeline.

  I make my way towards the cafe, checking my phone to see if I have any messages. Just one. My mum, asking how my day was and if she’ll see me at the weekend. I type a quick message back letting her know I’m good, but tired. That I’ll see her on Saturday as it’s my day off. The first weekend I’ve had off work since I can remember, so I’m going to make the most of it.

  Just as I’m about done texting her, I go to pocket my phone, when I walk into something. At first, I thought it was the lamppost; that would be just my luck for not looking where I was going. It was that hard I almost fall flat on my ass from the impact. I try to find something to grab to stop me from making a complete fool out myself, when a set of arms; a very huge set of arms, come around my waist and stop my fall.

  “Oh shit. Jeez. Fuck sake, watch where you’re going.” He all but shouts at me. It takes me a spilt second to place his voice. I look into the most beautiful set of stormy, grey eyes I have ever seen. I’m pretty certain they even have flecks of silver running through them. I would know who they belonged to even if he was standing in a crowded room. They’re that mesmerising. Pulling myself together, I push my feet back so they are underneath me, not in the air and push him back, not that he’s moved back much.

  “Me? You should watch where you’re bloody going, you nearly knocked me fucking out.” I puff out, now slightly out of breath from the clash of chests.

  Recognition flashes in his eyes, he knows who I am and a smirk pulls up on his mouth.

  “Let’s get one thing straight…. Doctor, you walked into me because you were too busy texting on your phone to look up.”

  I notice him smirk again, god it’s one sexy look. I open my mouth to say something, anything. He’s got me, I was texting and it was my fault. Not that I’d tell him that.

  “Let's just agree to disagree, yeah?”

  It doesn’t escape me that his hands are still on me even though I’m stable on my own two feet now. I wonder if he’s noticed this himself yet? Like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown on us, he immediately lets go of me and looks anywhere but straight at me.

  “I’m sorry, okay? You were the last person I thought I would see again, unless you’re being brought to the A&E department by paramedics again.”

  Shocked at my little outburst is clear as day on his face, but what I said is true even if I do now feel like shit for saying it.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. Can I make it up to you, let me buy you coffee. I was just on my way there anyway?”

  Part of me hopes he says yes, but the other half of me is saying he’s trouble and I don’t want nor need that in my life right now. I can see he’s in two minds of what to do, so I don’t give him a chance to say no.

  “Come on, it’s just around the corner.” I say as I start to walk off, hoping he’s following me.

  “I do know where the bloody cafe is.” I hear him mumbling under his breath then he starts to put one foot in front if the other, his heavy footsteps trudging along the pavement. He’s coming. My heart nearly bursts from my chest. I really need to sort my myself out around him. He makes me feel emotions I haven’t felt in a long time, if ever and I don’t even know him.

  Chapter Five

  Blake

  I find my legs are moving before I’ve even decided I was going to go with her, why? I’m still not sure, but something tells me I have to follow her. I’m having a mental fight with myself in my head about what I should be doing and where I’m meant to be going. This wasn’t a part of my plan today. The fact I’ve got a shit tonne of painkillers burning a hole in my backside pocket doesn’t help me in this situation. She doesn’t need to know about them. They do say ‘what they don’t know, can’t hurt’ right? By the looks of it she’s not working today, then she will never know. I won’t have to see the pity in her eyes again. Eyes I now know are deep turquoise with hints of purple, very unusual for a woman.

  Coming to the conclusion that one coffee won’t hurt before I go and buy the litre bottle of Jack from Tesco, I notice her look over her shoulder at me to see if I’m behind her.

  She’s gorgeous. I never saw it before, but I do now.

  I couldn’t start something with her, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. I’m damaged beyond repair. She deserves better than me, more than I can give her. I can’t give her what I know she desperately needs. I may not be in the army anymore, but I’m good at reading people, it’s what I was trained to do. She has bucket loads going on in her head right now, without my problems to add to it. That much I do know. I may have only met her a couple of times and I really haven’t talked to her, but I can guarantee she’s got more baggage than Boeing 747. She’s guarded and keeps herself to herself, and when I’ve seen her in her place of work, she doesn’t speak to anyone really unless they speak to her first.

  I find myself checking her out, from her slim slender legs to her tight as fuck arse, past her hourglass figure waist to her full lips. Yeah, she turned around. She probably caught me eye fucking her. Yet doesn’t say anything.

  I might have a lot of shit going on in my fucked-up head, but I’m still male and I appreciate a fine body when I see one.

  She knocks me off my train of thought when she stops dead in front of me. She points to the cafe with a small smile.

  “We’re here. You know, in case you weren’t looking where you were going.”

  Busted, she definitely clocked me checking her out.

  “It’s okay, I’m really good at multitasking.”

  What the fuck, where did that come from? Now I’m flirting with her, I see the blush spread around her cheeks, she’s not as bold and confident as she’s made out to be.

  Either that or she’s not into dudes and I’ve made her uncomfortable. Nah fuck that, she’s way too sexy to be into rug munching. That being said if she was and wanted me join in before I pop these pills, I wouldn’t say no. Like I said I’m all male.

  “You coming, or have you changed your mind?” She asks.

  Oh, I’m coming all right, but not in the way she thinks. Okay, this shit needs to stop, like right now.

  She’s making me get off track and that can’t happen. I’m no-one’s happily ever after and she seems the type of girl that believes in all that shit. She’s seen what I’m capable off. She knows I’m not mentally stable and I have issues, so why is she even bothering with me right now?

  “Ladies first,” I say grabbing hold of the door handle, waving my hand out for her to enter on through.

  “Erm, thanks.” She makes her way to the counter to order the coffee, she turns to me. “What are you drinking?”

  “Coffee black, one sugar. Why don’t you go grab a seat and I’ll grab these.” I pull out my wallet, so she knows I mean it.

  “Okay, sure thanks. Latte no sugar for me please.” I nod as she makes her way towards a table in the corner.

  We make small chit chat, nothing to deep. Thank fuck, I’m not in the mood to tell anyone my life story, let alone her. She moves her hand up from under the table to pick up her coffee cup, that’s when I see her wrist. A nasty yellow, purple bruise sits loud and proud, my finger marks clear as day.

  If that doesn’t make me feel like a fucking prick, I don’t know what would. I still can’t believe that it was me that did that. When I realised, I was holding her wrist, I wanted to die a million deaths, th
e look on her face was enough to do me in.

  I’ve never laid a hand on a woman. I was raised by a single mother who had dealt with enough of that shit last her life time, it was one of the reasons I joined the army. To prove I was a better person than that low life scum she brought home every opportunity she got. I vowed never to treat a woman the way they treated my mother, but when I glance down at her wrist again, I realise I’m no better than the men I swore I’d never become.

  I’m a monster.

  Chapter Six

  Gabi

  I saw him looking at my wrist, it was an accident on his part, I don’t hold it against him. I was about to tell him this, but the look on his face was one of pure devastation and if I’m not mistaken, anger. His body is visibly shaking in front of me. I can tell it’s taking everything he has not to lose his shit right here, in the middle of the busy cafe. So, I keep my mouth shut on that subject and place my hand back under the table after I’ve taken a sip of my coffee.

  Next time, I’ll use my other hand.

  We talk for over an hour, the elephant that was in the room, now long gone. I feel comfortable around him, and I think he's warming up to me. Knowing we've both reached the bottom of our cups, both knowing the conversation is coming to an end. I can see him thinking over something in his head, he can’t look at me and he’s starting to look uncomfortable. Playing with his fingers in a nervous way.

  “Well, thanks for the chat, but I really should get going.” I don't want him to leave just yet, I've enjoyed his company and I want to know more about him. It's been a long time since I've actually had a coffee with the opposite sex, and for them not to gain anything out of it.

  “Wait... Please, erm... I know this sounds a little forward of me, and you can say no, but do fancy coming back to mine?” God that was hard to get out. I let out a gasp when I see the look on his face. “It sounded better in my head, honest.” I cover my face with my hand. This is so embarrassing, and it'll only get worse when he turns me down.