Entangled Souls

Chapter 6

After a three-week stay in the psychiatric ward of the state hospital, John was allowed to go home. All suicide cases that were not able to reach their goal were damned to a few weeks in psychiatric care to ensure that a potential suicide at the hands of the patient could be avoided. He humored them and promised that he would no more try to take his own life. They subsequently let him go. His bodily wounds were more or less healed. He would have to live out the rest of his life with the headaches that plagued him daily, even though the doctor assured him that he would not have to worry about any painful aftereffects. Who can believe anything these demigods in white said? He would never speak to anybody about the scars upon his soul as of today. At least his brother hadn't made any appearances in the past three weeks. Most likely he wanted to keep clear of a visit to the loony bin.

John walked up the steps to his apartment in a turbid mood. At least at the hospital he had that beautiful nurse by his side who visited him much more often than necessary. Even the caretakers in the psychiatric ward would stop by and have a few laughs with him. But today, all he could do was return to his silent, lonely apartment. He probably had to wash the blood off of the floor. The sanitizers and police must have just left everything exactly the way they found it, so as to not leave behind any traces. Before opening the door to his flat, he shot a look over at his neighbor’s door. He also never showed up again. No surprise there, considering John had not exactly received him with open arms and a smile. He deserved nothing else, since it was he who ultimately muddled everything up. For three weeks, John had been dead-set on trying a second time. But today he was not so sure that he could build up the courage again.

John morosely opened the door, not knowing what awaited him. To his great astonishment, the apartment was spotlessly tidy. A vase with fresh flowers was even sitting on the table. In front of it was a white envelope with the words, "Welcome Home".

John was pleasantly surprised and excited inside. Had Rosie actually heard about his "accident" and simply not trusted herself to visit him in the hospital? She certainly wanted to give her condolences with this little acknowledgement instead. He dropped his bag, picked up the envelope, ripped it open and read the contents of the letter inside.

Hello John,

It's great that you're home again. I would be really happy if you came by my place sometime in the next few days.

Your neighbor

Peter

Disappointed, John crumpled the letter up and threw it carelessly onto the floor. Him again. He left his flat in irritation and rang the bell next-door. Before he could even think of what he wanted to do to this Peter, the door opened.

"Hey, awesome to see you back already. Come in."

"Please just leave me alone. I neither want nor need your sympathy. Go about your own crap the way you did before. Understood?"

He abruptly turned around and let his front door noisily slam shut. Peter stood still in the hallway, bewildered. What was that all about? But he was not going to give up that easily. He took two long strides up to his neighbor’s door and rang the bell. This did not go unnoticed, as seconds later John stood at the door with a wild expression.

"Are you deaf?" he shouted.

"No, I'm not. But I also don't quit very easily. Let's just start things fresh again, from the beginning."

For the second time, he extended his hand to John.

"I'm Peter, your new neighbor. I would love to celebrate by inviting you for beer."

John stared at the hand that was still held in his direction and would probably hover there until he finally took it. He shook the hand as reluctantly as possible.

"Great, it's settled," Peter said. "Let's go to my place, I have two cold light ones sitting in the fridge."

He smiled at him cheerily and went inside. John looked around and considered for a little before he shook his head and followed his neighbor into his apartment. Better than sitting in these cold, lonesome rooms.

"Those weeks in the crazy house seem to have done you good," a familiar voice whispered into his ear. "Now don't give up again, this guy seems nice."

"Get off my back, little brother. You also seem to have left me quite alone during the past three weeks," John whispered back quietly.

"Who goes willingly into a psychiatric ward," it mocked.

"Go to hell already," John called out louder than expected.

"Did you say something?" Peter turned around to him.

"No, no, everything's cool. Nice apartment."