Quietus - Book III

Chapter 2: A Paragon of Liars

August 14, 2010

Bleary-eyed, I woke up in a strange bed.

White and salmon-pink walls. Stiff sheets. Endless beeps. Machines. So many machines. My mouth was slimy. The breathing tubes in my nose were abrasive. I pulled them off, finding other tubes on my arms.

"You're okay." Phoebe's voice was soothing at my side. "You shouldn't take the tubes out. They'll help." When I turned my head to the right, she wore the same black t-shirt and skinny jeans she wore before. I assumed it was the same day, then. The room didn't have a window.

"Where are we? A hospital?" My voice sounded like sandpaper. I lowered the breathing tubes to my chest.

"Lenox Hill. You've been unconscious for a while."

"What happened to me?"

"You fainted. I think it was a panic attack."

"What?"

"But you'll be fine, okay? You can stay with me until you get better."

"No! No, Phoebe." I reached for the button to call the nurse but Phoebe tugged it out of my weak grip.

"Katherine, you need help." She brushed aside a strand of hair from my cheek.

"No. Nicholas will come back," I rasped. "I need to be at the penthouse. He'll come back for me."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this is happening to you, but he's not. And you have school coming up. You need to focus on your health and on school. Let Nicholas help his father. There's nothing else you can do for him."

"No. No, he's coming. He has to come. He needs me, Phoebe."

"If he needed you, he would be here." She chewed on her bottom lip as she squeezed my hand. "You can't worry about him anymore, Katherine."

"You don't understand. You'll never understand."

Phoebe looked like she was about to rebuff me when a nurse with tiny ducks on her shirt walked in.

"You're awake. We're so relieved, Miss Miller. The doctor will be in shortly."

"Thank you," Phoebe and I said simultaneously.

I stared at the tubes on my wrists that were connected to the machines. I was connected to steel that told the doctors how I was at every moment as if they could see inside of me. None of them could ever see what was really going on. Nick's rocks were buried deep, weighing me down, reminding me of his paint and his tears and his screams. No, the machines couldn't see those things. Instead, they saw that I was"better" a few minutes after waking up.

A balding doctor with glasses and a mole on his cheek walked in with his steel chart and agreed with their conclusions.

"You can head home, now," Dr. Rosen said with this smile on his face. I couldn't see his eyes because the light reflected off his lenses, but the way he spoke made it seem like he was relieved. With his confirmation, Phoebe went to sign me out while he helped me to the chair near the door. I hated the bed. It wasn't our bed.

"This prescription will help with the attacks." He offered the slip of paper to me, but I didn't reach for it, and it fell to the floor. When he crouched down to pick it up, the light no longer reflected off his glasses, and I bowed my head.

His eyes were like Nicholas's. They were exactly the same.

He placed the slip of paper on the bed and pat my shoulder as my tears began to flow. The doctor had Nick's eyes but nothing else. The rest existed in my mind.