Mystery Girl

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The day after Alana moved rooms, i was straight into her book. Word after word. Page after page. Chapter after Chapter. As the book went on I began to understand Alana more. I saw the world through her eyes, and geez was it miserable. She portrayed her parents like demons. Friends like traitors. Herself...like a lost boat. She was looking for meaning. She was looking for purpose. She wasn't like any other girl. She saw things differently. Comprehended them differently. It was simply fascinating.

The days went on. The chapters got longer. More intense. I started getting very worried and very nervous. Worried, that Alana's sight on things would never get better. Nervous because everything chapter seemed to become more morbid than the last. I got some answers to some of my questions, but it was obvious that even though this was a private book, Alana was still very guarded. I kept remembering the word she had said to me, "When you've finished reading it, will you help me finish it?"

Will you help me finish it?

"I blame myself" The last words in Alana's book. How she could possibly blame herself for what she had gone through I don't know, but I intended to find out. I thought about how long this was going to take. Helping Alana. I thought about my patients before her. I had dealt with suicide attempt-ees before, but none of them had been through what Alana had went through. They weren't diagnosed with PTSD. They hadn't been abused. They hadn't been going through something half-as-hard as what Alana was going through. To be truthful, I was surprised Alana lasted as long as she did. She was definitely a tough girl. I truly admired her for that.

I glanced at my watch. 12am. Midnight. I shut my eyes and tried to get some sleep. It wasn't very hard. Within seconds I was in my own dreams...correction, nightmares.

"RIVER!!! RIVER HELP ME!!!" I turned the corner of 6th Avenue to see a girl being beaten. She looked familiar. Alana. Blood was trickling from her forehead, down her cheek and staining her shirt. I charged at the man who was beating her. My knuckles connected with his jaw and he barely flinched. My hand was throbbing and he took the opportunity. I felt the heel of his palm strike my chin. I couldn't feel anything. I went numb and my vision went black.

My eyes flew open. Palms moist and sweat dripping from my hairline. A whisper escaped my lips, Alana. What was going on? Was Alana in danger? I checked the clock. 5am. Good. At least it was time to get ready. I showered and dressed within 10 minutes, much quicker than I normally took, but I needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

I sped down the streets. Taking shortcuts, side streets, anything to beat the morning traffic that had already started to build up. As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed Georgia just pulling in too. Someone else must've taken the night shift.

She must've noticed me because I heard her call out as I was jogging through the doors, "River? Are you ok? You're early and you're running in."

I slowed my jog to a fast walk and called over my shoulder, "Yeah I'm fine. I'll see you later Georgia."

I rushed through the halls. Sprinted up the stairs and dashed to Alana's room. As I approached the door I asked myself "Why are you so worried?" I stopped in my tracks and realized I didn't have an answer. I opened Alana's door and it hit me. Nothing was wrong. I was just being paranoid. Alana was fine. She was right there in front of me, sleeping. I started to breath easier. In, out. In, out. Within a few moments I calmed down. I made sure to get a room with a desk, so I placed my bag on the table top and took out my things. Files, pens, water, Alana's book and a notebook. The notebook I had bought for the pure purpose of Alana. I bought it with the intentions of giving it to her, so she could finish her story.

At around 6, and it was clear Alana would not wake anytime soon, I went down to the cafeteria for breakfast.

Halfway through my coffee and muffin, my phone started buzzing. I flipped it out and checked the caller id. Susan. I answered it and greeted her with a cheery, hello.