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ELLIE
Ten Years Ago…
“Eleanor, do you know why we’re here today?”
“It’s just Ellie,” I correct him.
“Okay, Ellie,” he concedes. “Let’s start from the beginning. What happened two nights ago?”
The doctor, whose name I’ve already forgotten, looks at me, disinterested and impatient. His shirt, a color of blue I’ve once heard described as cerulean, peeks through the front lapels of his white coat, right where his name badge is neatly secured. His ankle rests on his opposite knee, with a flimsy plastic clipboard balanced on his thigh. My gaze stays fixed on his finger lightly tapping the armrest as he waits for my answer. The dim light situated just above his head spotlights the center of the room as if we’re on a stage, my life meant to be on display for entertainment.
What happened two nights ago?
The events of that night hang in the stiff air between us, floating and waiting for me to transform them into solid words so he can write them down in my file, making them permanent. My thumbs run over the worn leather as my eyes flutter, trying to push away my most recent memory.
Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. Nineteen pills. Maybe if I coat my mouth first and wet it so the pills don’t stick to my throat, I can swallow them in one go.
Tap, tap, tap.
My foot sits impatiently below the sink, waiting for the fragile glass to fill with tap water.
Yeah, the water should help. Maybe if I just take fifteen of them. It should still do the trick, and I can swallow them all at once. What difference does it make? It doesn’t matter; none of it matters. I won’t be around to reexamine my actions anyways.
My hand lifts to my mouth, my lips scooping the pills before the gush of tepid water washes them down.
Okay, I did it. Hard part over. Now I just wait. Wait and wait and wait.
I feel dizzy, like I might pass out. My trembling hands move to grip the sink, my palms slipping against the cold, hard surface instead.
I jump, startled by the sudden noise, like someone bashed in a window with a baseball bat. Was that glass? Why is the floor wet?
I wince, the sharp pain puncturing the bottom of my foot. And then there’s blood. At least, I think it’s blood. Everything's so blurry.
“Ellie?” The voice calling my name sounds distant. And familiar.
It’s the last thing I hear before everything goes black, the empty bottle hitting the floor as I go with it, and we land on the soft, fuzzy rug in unison.
“Ellie!”
“Ellie?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the cushion of the chair, the harsh leather making a creaking noise against my hand. I lower my head so that gravity can bring my hair in front of me, creating a makeshift drape for me to hide behind. Like a beaded curtain, still able to be seen through but managing to hide the fine details.
“Okay.” The doctor sighs. “How about we meet again tomorrow? It’s up to you when you’re ready to talk. In the meantime, the nurses can reach me at all hours.” He raises his hand and signals towards the nurse waiting quietly by the door. I stand, and she moves her hand to my back to guide me to my room.
We walk in silence. The sounds of our footsteps echo off the sterile walls of the hospital hallways underneath the dull fluorescent lights, the quietness between us spreading the length of the hall. It fills every wall and corner, making our every move sound loud and menacing.
“Dinner will be served in a couple of minutes. Make sure you’re in the dining area on time, please.” She turns away after I nod to inform her I will follow instructions this time. Unlike last night, when I stayed in my room with my eyes squeezed shut, trying to erase everything. Trying to pretend that none of this even happened.
My gauze-covered feet peek through the flat, cold slippers that were issued to me when I arrived at the hospital in nothing but sweatpants and a dress shirt, no shoes. I curl my toes as my feet flexure against the weeping cuts still bleeding intermittently. All the while, my fingers cling to the shirt, wrapping it inward to grasp the soft material, the plastic buttons digging into my palms, leaving small crescent indents in my skin.
I squeeze my eyes shut, never wanting to open them again. Every time I do, I think to myself,This is it.
But it doesn’t work out that way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.
ONE
RHYLAN
