Dead or Destitute (Lams)

Chapter Seven

The puncture of the needle was delivered swiftly. As he got familiar with the weekly prick he began to insist that the syringe grew larger each time. Just like John, he had bruises up and down his arms, though Alexander's were simply from all the shots, IVs, and regular blood draws.

Alexander watched as a stream of red flowed through the little transparent tube. Some fainted at the sight of that much blood. Alex didn't. He was so familiar of the sight, so used to it, that not seeing blood weekly was more of a frightening idea.

"Anything odd happen recently?" the nurse questioned, eyes glued to the clipboard before him.

Alexander scoffed a little, tired of the monotone talk and never changing results.

"I'll take that as a no."

Soon enough the needle was removed and he was free to go. He scurried through the hallways, noticing the familiar hospital stench. It was the smell of heavy sanitizing solution and fading hope. The wide halls were empty, the only noise being the occasional hum of the machinery.

Alexander's room was two floors up. He stepped into the elevator, going down instead.

The third floor entranced him. It befuddled him how on one floor, new life was brought into the world, whereas just above, people came to depart.

The new bundles of life were kept in a room surrounded by thick glass, kept on display like little China dolls.

Alexander walked towards the glass, standing next to a nervous new father. "Isn't she beautiful?" he whispered as though his own voice could break the glass and shatter the baby.

The child which he spoke of was swaddled but wide awake. Her hands had formed into tiny fists. She had a few loose curls framing her small features.

"What's her name?" Alexander asked, trying to make conversation.

The man smiled, a tear slipping down his face. "Theodosia. She has her mother's name."

"She has your eyes," Alexander confirmed, grinning.

The eyes being spoken of began to water even more as the man gazed at his child.

Alexander had always wanted a baby, maybe two. He thought he could be a great father. He had questions too, questions that only having his own children would answer. He wondered how difficult it really was to raise a child. What was it that would cause a father to completely abandon his new child? What makes you look at a tiny and broken family and decide it's just too much for you? How much of a coward would you need to be to do such a thing?

Alexander needed to prove to himself that he wouldn't be that person. That he could change, that his actions would show his father what a real dad looked like.

The facts, however, stated that Alexander wouldn't be able to see that day pass. He had a limited amount of time until his failing heart just stopped.

The irony was that he had enough love to give away, just not enough of a heart.

"Congratulations," he added, smiling faintly. He had a bittersweet feeling, one that suggested he would never fully be alive.

These thoughts antagonized him on his trip back to the room. Alexander felt the same conviction as before, if not even more prominent than previously. He had to live as though he was running out of time, because that was his exact situation.

John was waiting for him in the room, a frequent occurrence as of recently. The freckle faced boy had grown attached to him, acting as though Alexander was the cure to his ailment.

"Please, please, please!" he begged upon sighting Alexander. This was a continuation of their previous conversation.

Alexander glanced at John for only a second, a completely blank look on his face. "No," he responded, rolling his eyes.

John twisted the tube of lipstick in his hand, laughing mischievously. "I will do anything. I'll wear a sharpie mustache for a week. I'll buy you fries and ice cream. Hell, I'll even let you do my makeup."

"No," he hummed in a sing song voice, not even making eye contact. "And fuck Lafayette for leaving that stupid makeup here."

The bag carried all sorts of goodies. New Sephora lipstick, sparkly eyeshadow, foundation, concealer, bronzer, and highlight. There was even a mascara called better than sex. John was more than eager to test that theory.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Maria when she-"

"Who's Maria?"

Alexander sat on the hospital bed, sighing heavily. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh."

Alexander winced, thinking of how best to explain. "Look, I really don't want to talk about this right now. Can we raincheck it?"

John seemed to visibly recoup but he relented none the less. He sat next to Alexander on the bed, looking him up and down.

"You look sick. Maybe get some sleep?"

"Okay freckles," he teased, placing a light kiss on the other boy's nose.

John blushed, inching towards the door. "Well, um, goodnight."

Alexander laughed, realizing how beautiful of a thing he had. He wished to just freeze John's blushing smile, just keep him stuck in that moment for as long as possible. That wasn't realistic though. Life was always more cruel.

He almost regretted not sharing about Maria. He still hadn't subsided from the effect she had on him. She was like a drug, coursing through his veins, intoxicating his very being. He still remembered when he first met her. Full red lips dripping with beautiful words. They had formed a pout as her slender fingers ran up and down him like she was already his. That woman carried the implication that she must be avoided, but the promise that she would take him to new unheard of places.

She didn't smile, only grin. She never yelled, but constantly whispered, and the things she whispered haunted Alexander to this day. Her beautiful voice sent chills down his spine, sensations to his body he had never heard of before. And when she made him her's, he wished to never leave that moment. He wanted to be enveloped in her warmth, encompassed with her body forever.

Now that the thought of such a woman was in his head, it refused to flee. All he could think of was what could have been, might have been.

That night as he slept, he had nightmares. The only picture he remembered the next day was an awful vision of red lips and a blood stained pavement.