Coping With Clarity

Chapter Twenty Two

Epilogue

Footsteps. Eyes rise from a clipboard of scribbles.

“Dr. Gomez?”

Mandy turns.

“Yes?”

“There’s a girl calling from the front desk.” A phone stretches from a wire on the wall and the Resident continues.

“She’s asking about your daughter.”

The clipboard is placed on the counter.

“Selena...” No sightings. “Who is it?”

The phone is muffled.

“I’m not sure.”

“What did she say?”

“She just wants to talk to Selena.”

A pause.

“Did she leave a name?”

“Um... Lovato.”

~

She’s bolting down the hall just as the last syllable falls out of her mom’s mouth.

Lo-va-to.

Just the name sent her running in hope - a hope, which rarely graces her days anymore.

And it matters that it sends her running past the wards and into familiar territories; being careful not to trip over her own feet or flinch from the pinned watch on her chest. It matters that she runs because she’s slowly learning to cope and it could all come undone.

Every forceful practice of learning to wake up each morning to a room full of Demi’s pictures and smile back, instead of crying.

She carries one with her constantly and has learnt not to snap when people ask who it is.

The two days that grew into a month of repetition that is only just starting to get Selena by.

A month of loneliness. Selena said goodbye to Joey who was ready and nightmare free for summer. Selena’s said goodbye to ward thirteen, its rooms, that room, the hallway and heavy doors. But Dr. DeLuise visits every wednesday with coffee and David officially saunters by every Friday to update Selena on how his nose is doing. Its been healed for weeks but Selena isn’t about to turn him away.

The only major change from her ‘before-life’ and ‘after-life’ is the counseling group she ‘sits’ through. ‘Sits’ being the action because its been a long time since she’s actually listened.

The stroke unit is a different experience, it shakes her and reinforces everything she feared about pivotal moments that change everything. Selena hates to compare what she’s gone through, losing her world, to experiencing a stroke; because she doesn’t want to admit she feels worse off.

Front desks and receptionists blind her and Selena abruptly halts her speedy journey. The converse she wears are worn and she can feel the floor through the rubber sole. Out of breath reality lowers her heart to her stomach on a well-used pully. She can never get used to the feeling.

Hoping never amounts to anything in the barren emotion Selena create. She feel empty and foolish because she’s not stupid or a believer in miracles, and she knew from the end of the phone call that it was never going to be anyone other than Dallas Lovato waiting at the sign-in station; with a girl no taller than her waist.

It doesn’t stop Selena’s throat from tightening and the beacon of light from retiring again.

Demi’s sister sees her, standing, trying not to look out of breath - and if Selena didn’t know any better, she’s say Dallas looked like she’d been running too.