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She nods, “We will do everything we can. Now, who can I call for you?”
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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.
