Addicted | ✔

C h a p t e r T e n

                                                                                PART TEN

                                                     ❝If it still makes you cry, it still matters.❞

I don't remember yesterday. My eyes flicker open. A white sterile celling is the first thing I see. It's only then, I hear the beeping and soft voices around me. I'm in a hospital. There's a bandage around my wrist. My head is killing me. Somebody's hand is clenched around mine. It's Jack's.

"Kaitlyn?" He asks, leaning closer to me. I can't speak, I'm just staring at him. There's an iv in my arm, dripping something into me. What happened. 

"Kaitlyn." He repeats, as a statement this time. I just look at him, unable to form any words. I watch as a doctor walks over to me. She's got blonde hair and blue eyes, It's unmistakable the look of concern shown in those eyes. 

"Ms. Thomas, how are you feeling?" She asks, clicking a pen. It's only then I find the words to say 

"okay." is the only thing I manage to say, even then it takes all my mental strength to say it. She writes something on what I'm assuming is my chart. 

"You overdosed Ms. Thomas, a friend found you passed out in a car with a needle sticking out of your arm." She states, no warmth to her words. I nod, I can only remember pulling into the parking lot of the diner, and leaning against the window, feeling like I was sinking into the seat. 

"Who- found me?" I whisper. Jack turned away from the doctor to look at me.

"Isobel." He states, "She called me, then  911."

"You were legally dead for 1 minute Kaitlyn." The doctor says. I let out a soft gasp. I wonder if my parent's know. How would they react to that call? Mr. and Mrs. Thomas your firstborn daughter overdosed on heroin and fentanyl.. I grimace at the thought. The doctor makes a gesture toward the IV.

"Your vitals are stabilizing, you have a high fever however so we're going to keep you overnight until it returns to normal. You are very lucky that girl found you when she did, five minutes later and you would've been dead." She closes the door behind her. I turn to Jack. 

"Am I in the ICU?" I ask, I can't tell if the expression on his face is worry, or rage. At least I'd managed to park the car before my body gave up on me. 

"Yeah, you've been unconscious for almost a day."  He said, and I didn't hear rage, only genuine sadness. 

"I've seen a lot of people die Kaitlyn. I've watched people overdose on my couch, I've seen what happens when you bring a knife to a gun fight. I don't want to watch you die, maybe it's time to get clean." He trails off when he see's the look in my eyes. I can only vaguely remember the three months I'd been sober. It could've saved me. I just didn't want it too.

"I want Summer." I say, feeling the strength come back to my voice. Jack nods, smiling sadly. 

"I can call her." He says but I shake my head. I'm on my own and I know that. Even though if I called her right now she'd be on the first flight out to Aspen. But I couldn't put her through more shit than I already had. Maybe I could write to her, when I could feel my hands.

"Am I gonna be okay?" I asked Jack, as if his medical knowledge was this grand.

"Physically yes, mentally? Fuck no." I let my eyes meet his, there was a look of anger there. Maybe it was himself, maybe it was at me, maybe it was just at life.

"I don't want to watch my best friend die Kaitlyn." He said harshly. 

"I didn't mean to Jack, I wasn't trying to kill myself I just wanted a buzz." 

He nodded. It's then that I realized the door was opening, a nurse came in. Carrying a tray of food, pudding, a pot pie, and a cup of straight black coffee. She set it on the table next to my bed. Jack took a spoonful of pudding and spooned it into my mouth. Some of it dribbled it down my chin. 

"Eat, it'll help Ms. Thomas." 

For the record, even in the midst of all this I didn't want to be called Ms. Thomas. Ms. Thomas, was my mother. A successful  real estate agent who worked her ass for my many hospital visits, and intensive care, when I was committed to the Psych ward in Arizona and when I was in California for three months. I knew that was the last straw when she'd picked me up at the airport. I knew if I messed up one more time, I was going to be all alone in the fucked up world I didn't even want to be a part of. 

"I want my mom." I said, not even thinking about it. It was true, I did want my mom. I wanted her to come hold my hand and press a cold towel against my forehead. To tell me I was going to be okay, and she was going to get me help and I was going to get better. Jack looked at me sympathetically. 

"She's not coming Kate." 

I nodded. I know they'd called her, most likely while they were performing cpr on my dead body, I know she'd listened and hung up. I know her car didn't pull into the parking lot, she hadn't run up the stairs to see me. Because to her, I was already dead, she'd already buried me, even though I was still alive. Just not to her.

"I don't want to get clean, I can't live with this." I said, around the spoon in my mouth. Jack nodded,

"Then I guess I should start writing your obituary, because soon enough there won't be anybody to save you."