Restoration

Chapter 03

How do we wake up when we're not supposed to wake up? Maybe a small reminder that somewhere in life there is still hope, I guess. I sit up straight in the hospital bed looking at the doctor that opens the curtains and then looks at me.
"You'll be admitted to a rehab close to your home," she says to me with a heavy sigh. Her hair tied into a ponytail. Such a young woman exposed to this everyday lifestyle.
"I don't need it," I reply and look at Natasha that comes walking in straight to me. "Hi."
"Hi," she greets me back with a hug. "How are you."
"Exhausted," I reply and look at the doctor again. "It was a mistake. I won't do it again."
"I heard that before," she giggles and head out of the room. I sigh hopelessly and drop my head back looking at the ceiling. I had regrets over certain things in my life before, but suddenly all I experience now is guilt. Of all other emotions, I can experience, why the guilt? I owe nothing to anybody.
"I got such a fright when Steven said you're in the hospital," Natasha says. She takes a seat on the bed next to me. She has a satisfied look on her face. It's as if this isn't such a big deal. Of course, it isn't, but I was kind of expecting a heart-to-heart lecture. "He said that you weren't supposed to wake up, yet you did."
"Just to hear you bragging about giving your life to Jesus. Why do I remember that clearly, but nothing else?" I ask and fold my arms around my chest to hug myself. My heart starts beating fast. I'm just anxious, that's all. Anxiousness has always been a normal part of me until I switched off. Yes, that's what I did. I just switched off. "Do you think...do you think God is punishing me?"
"No, but he's most certainly trying to get your attention," Natasha giggles and places her hand on mine. Why would God even want me? He'll just waste His time on me. "Eleanor, if there is anything I want now, is to see you give your heart to Jesus. He loves you."
"I don't have time for this, okay?" I say annoyed and scan her face. Maybe she's right. No, she is most certainly delusional. All of this God-talk, this is the last thing I need now. Why now all of a sudden anyway? She did pretty damn good now all of a sudden she loves God because her son is gay. Speak about priorities, right?
"Right," she nods her head in disappointment. "I see. You can sit here all day doing nothing but yearning for a few pills to chuck down your throat and another few bottles of wine, but you can't take out five minutes to talk about God."
I feel the anger welling up inside of me. How does one respond to something like that? I keep my silence volume high and just look away. I have a lot to say, but silence is my only choice. I might lose the only person that matters to me. That's right, she's always there and asks no questions. If it's my kids, I hear it from them for the following decade how I missed a meeting at school or forgot to attend a football game or something. I don't even get included in their lives. Natasha tells me everything and I can tell her everything as well. Well, not everything, but most of it.
"Eleanor, once. Just once, please," she begs me. I look at her and inhale deeply. There's a feeling suddenly falling upon me. I'm hopefully desperate. But what can the church even give me that I can't find on my own?
"Once?" I ask. She nods with a sweet smile. "Alright. If I don't like it, you don't talk to me about God ever again, hear me?"
"That's a promise I can't keep," Natasha laughs. I look worried at her. Is she even okay? When last did she have her brain checked? "But for what it's worth, I'm in."
"Okay," I nod my head slowly and inhale deeply. "Now I just gotta get myself a hat and a dress."
"Geez, I turned up there with a hat and a dress and never felt old fashion like that," she laughs. I raise an eyebrow at her. "Next time I'm going, I'm wearing a jean and that blue button shirt you gave me for Christmas last year."
"So, church upgraded," I roll my eyes and look down at my lap. Her hand leaves mine. My heart aches all of a sudden. It's only now that I start to realize how empty and lonely I've been. "How did everything go so wrong in my life all of a sudden, Natasha? I was happy, but now...I'm starting to think that Steven should've rather left me to die."
"Well, if I die now I know I'll be going to heaven, but there where you're going, I hope you have a bikini and ice. Never mind that, you'll be scaring Satan away," Natasha says with a chuckle. I laugh softly and bite my lip. She's missing the point. Guess that's why I find it useless talking to people about my thoughts and wonders. That's also most likely why I can't tell her EVERYTHING. "Eleanor, I'm just as new to this as you are going to be soon, but from what I can tell is that your only help will come from above. There is a mighty God waiting for you to surrender all you have to him. Your children, drug addiction, welfare, and most importantly your marriage will get saved, Ellie. I know it because I have hope all over again."
"My marriage? Oh God can have him for all I care," I laugh and shake my head. "Steven judges me about my parenting and what I do, but he's no better than me."
"It's not about who's worse than the other. It's about who will make a stand when nobody else is," she says. Since when did she become like this? There's a type of light in her eyes I'm not used to. She found hope, a different kind of hope. Let's just hope this time it's permanent.

Coming home felt different this time. The old routine will kick in probably soon. Steven takes the medicine bag from the cabinet and goes to the zink.
"Woah what are you doing?" I ask when he began chucking all the pills down the zink. "Steven, stop!"
"No, I won't stop, Eleanor! I won't stop until you get your life together!" he shouts at me and throws the bag to the floor. The medicine bottles break and everything spills on the floor. Who the hell does he think he is? "You're sick! No wonder the kids are messed up!"
"The kids aren't messed up, Steven!" I shout back at him. "Maybe if you start being a damn father to them, they'll actually love you!"
Anger welled up inside of him in a way I haven't seen in a long time. Did I push him too far? Is it my fault? His hand raises and within a matter of half a second, it ends in my face. I grab my burning cheek terrified. Did my husband just hit me?
"Eleanor..." his voice is firm. I feel his hand touching my shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I..."
"Don't touch me," I reply and push him away. I move my jaw to ease the pain and then look at him. My eyes are burning and there's a lump in my throat. "That was the last time you raised your hand on me."
A sudden wave of anger pushes up in me. Is it revenge? What is it?
I hit his chest and look at him with tears in my eyes.
"I hate you!" I yell at him. "And what you did was wrong. You don't care, Steven! You're never even here."
No man has ever lifted a hand at me, not even my dad. Why not? I never had one. Yes, the idiot ran out on us when mom dropped the pregnancy bomb. Guess that's why people are strong on marriage before sex. This is a marriage I never regretted having more in my life than now.