With All My Senses

an agreement

In the end, he didn't call the cops. He wanted to though. His eyes kept gazing at me with an unreadable look. He took my hand and walked me out of the small room and into the main hallway. I stared at the gift shop absentmindedly while I let him lead me out. I looked at the colorful balloons and gift cards, wondering if I still remembered how to be happy. I wasn't sure anymore. The chances of my situation ending in more or less good circumstances were less than zero.

On our way we passed a woman carrying a baby in her arms; she seemed exhausted and beaten up but still managed to smile at her child. She gazed up at me and the smile still lingered on her pale lips. My eyes closed for a moment as I considered how the scene didn't set any emotions in me. Nothing. I just felt numb, now that the voices in my head had subsided. I stared at the hand holding mine and speculated how long will this last after he lets go. I really didn't want to find out. 

                                                                                            ___

And now as he leads me to the front door and stands for a moment in silence, I try to set my mind in the present as the sliding doors open and close over and over again. He doesn't loosen the grip. I don't dare to move, ignoring my surroundings, just focusing on the here and now. I couldn't even plan five minutes ahead.

One more time, can you please explain this to me?

I don't think that I can.

Why not? You know I can still change my mind and call the cops?

Do what you must.

I say, thinking if he did call the cops, he would have to wait here with me until they got here. I somehow feel selfish, counting on the extra minutes with him.

Just like that? You're going to give up?

Well, I think that ship has sailed a long time ago. Look, normally I would run away, okay? I would scream, shout and maybe even hit you with something. I would steal the drugs and leave... until I would need more. I would probably choose a different hospital, or maybe the same one, depends on how strong the pain would get... and since it's getting worse with every day, I think I might visit you again. Something tells me that either way I would end up in prison.

You're strange. You know that, right?

Mmm, the word doesn't even begin to describe me.

He gives me another puzzled look, staring at me as if he's not sure what I might do in the next second. His eyebrows scrunched together, forming one line as if he is trying to solve some really hard problem and he doesn't seem to know from which angle to grab it. He finally lets out a big puff of cold air and shrugs his shoulders, like he's giving up just like me before.

Alright, look. I can see that you're not as bad of a person that you seem at first. You're not exactly a 'usual' kind of junkie that I have to deal here almost every day. But still, what you did was a felony and I should report this to my supervisors. I don't even know what's stopping me.

I look up at him, at the circles under his blue eyes and his tired face. I didn't notice it before, too preoccupied with my own sufferings to even care.

I'm sorry, I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to. If I had a choice.

He lifts his other hand to his head and ruffles his bright, hazel hair. Then the hand covers his face, and he sighs deeply.