Charlie's Angel

44 pt 2

Chris

I didn't think she would come, but she did.

It was seven in the evening on a Thursday.

I had thrown another fit at a nurse who wasn't careful when changing my bandages. I lashed out on her and almost became violent until they restrained my wrists to the bed and sedated me a little.

My own actions were confusing me. What was I? Who the hell was I?

The silence around me—except my heart monitor—was deafening and my ears ached with a ringing noise that came from nowhere; it was all in my head.

"Chris?" My heart galloped into my throat when I heard my name. So soft that I almost didn't hear it. I wanted to tell myself that she wasn't actually here, that it was my imagination again. But there was no shaking it; she was here. She still cared...

Maybe.

I looked over at her slowly but I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even begin to say I'm sorry for what I had done. That shit wasn't enough.

"I—"

"Shhh," she murmured, pressing her index finger to my lips gently to stop me. She looked a mess. Her hair was wild, face pale, eyes bloodshot and puffy. There were tears brimming in her eyes but she smiled faintly at me. "Don't talk, Chris."

Chris. I wasn't baby or babe anymore. That was my name, not gotdamn Chris. I had never hated my name until that moment.

She took a seat in the chair beside my bed and sniffled. I hated to see her cry, and I was the cause of it this time.

The way she looked at me was bittersweet. She was glad to see me, but she was afraid of me.

I was afraid of my damn self.

"Tell them to let me go," I croaked, trying to move my hands. She glanced down and back up, chewing on her bottom lip. I wanted to hold her more than anything. She probably wouldn't have let me, but I at least wanted to touch her hand. Something to confirm my thoughts that she was actually here.

"Not yet, Chris. We're just gonna talk, okay? Just you and me."

I turned my head up towards the ceiling and closed my eyes. She was treating me like I was a child or an animal. Was I?

"Talk about what?"

I glanced at her and saw something flash in her eyes. I was broken, and I was breaking her right along with me.

"Chris," she paused, "How long have you been holding this in?"

I shrugged. My eyes glossed over but I squeezed them shut and held my breath.

"Chris..." I felt her warm hand in my own and I choked up. I needed that. "Please, talk to me."

I laced my fingers through hers but didn't say anything.

I was so in love with this girl, it had only been, what, almost two years? She was the most incredible person I had ever met. She kept me grounded and cared for me in spite of. Did she love me? After what I did, probably not and I wasn't about to ask her.

"I miss her..." I cleared my throat at my confession and shifted uncomfortably.

"I know you do," she sighed. "She misses you too."

I shook my head. "Nah, that's not how this shit works. I know what happens to dead people, Charlie. You're dead. Just. Dead. Ain't no thinkin', no feeling shit, not a damn thing. You just lay there."