The Night I Was Saved

Chapter Fifteen

I'm staring at the ceiling for the second night in a row, this time the small lamp on the bedside table lights my room slightly so the darkness doesn't overpower my restless mind. Unlike last night it's quiet in my apartment. Daisy is not crying and the only sound comes from cars that are passing by.

It's just after twelve. I know this because I'm looking at my phone every two minutes in hopes to find a distraction. I don't find it anywhere though, so I end up throwing my phone away every time.

My thoughts keep drifting to what happened. It's both because it came out of nowhere and because I have no idea what caused it. One moment we were all talking, the next Josephine storms away and shuts down completely.

When I close my eyes, I see how I found her in the restroom. I walked after her after giving Daisy to Mercy since I know Jo doesn't mind if she holds her. It's one of the many things today that showed how she's making progress.

But then I saw her on the cold tiles; her hands in front of her ears, her eyes tightly shut, and her cheeks wet while her face was shockingly pale. The toilet and the toilet seat served as proof that she's emptied her entire stomach and for a very short moment I wondered if it was the result of food poisoning.

But when I looked at her once again, I knew it couldn't be it. She was shaking. Her whole body trembled in a way that I've never seen it before which says a lot given my work.

I said her name, but only after the seventh time, she gave me a reaction. It was a bearly-there nod, she didn't open her eyes or moved her hands from her ears, but she did confirm that she'd heard me. She looked terrified, as if she was experiencing one of the worst moments in her life. And the worst part was that I wasn't able to get her out of it.

I tried to let her know I was there by putting my hand on her arm, but the moment I touched her she flinched and jumped back. She didn't even open her eyes to look who was touching her, she immediately backed away, her instinct to protect herself consuming her.

And it fucking broke my heart. It broke my heart that she didn't want me close. After the day we'd had -where she and I had made such progress- all of it seemed for nothing because when she felt unsafe, she still didn't want me to help her.

Eventually, I settled onto the floor in the door opening. And I just talked to her. I kept saying her name, using the same tone and volume every time. I didn't touch her and I didn't come close. I just let her know that I was there by talking to her. And after what felt like hours but in reality was a good twenty minutes, she finally opened her eyes.

They were bloodshot, and her lashes stacked together which made it difficult for her to keep her eyes open. Sobs controlled her breathing, and she was so pale, it took me back straight to the moment I first met her.

She looked just as scared, just as tired, and just as unhealthy. There was only one difference, and that was how I felt while seeing her like that.

The first time I saw her, instinct took over. Professionalism took the upper hand and I did everything I could to help her because that's what I'm supposed to do. Because it's my job to help people and bring them into safety.

But today, that was completely different. Today, all I wanted to do was pull her in my arms and take away every pain and fear. And because she didn't let me, I felt like shit. I felt so fucking useless.

I care for her. So fucking much. I've known it for a while but I don't think I'd realized how deep it went until today. Today, it raided me. It crashed into me, and for a short moment, it was so overwhelming that I couldn't move.

I care for her and that little girl so much, I dread the idea of them leaving. I hate the idea of them not living with me. I loathe the idea of not having them close.