Finishing Crazy

Finishing Crazy (24)

I’m still recovering in the hospital three days after the surgery.

My kidney failed and was removed, and seven stitches in my side serve as evidence for it.

I feel just fine, but the doctors won’t let me leave yet, so I’m stuck here. As a sort of consolation for having to stay so long, my mom has brought me my pastels, as well as an easel and paper.

I’m in the process of re-creating something I’ve already painted before: my picture of a tree with the path coming out of it, and a sunset in the background. I add different colors to the tree bark, touching it lightly with simple, vibrant shades of orange, red and yellow. I’ll add the final coat of brown last.

I’m so engrossed in my work that I don’t even realize the figure hovering over me, watching my delicate strokes closely.

“Hey.” He says.

I jump, causing my red pastel to mark a long, dark, line over the light green grass that I had just spent an hour finishing. I put the red down carefully, not wanting to make another mistake, and then with no further hesitation, fling myself into Bryan’s arms.

“I’m so sorry.” I murmur against his chest. He moves his hands to my hair as I clutch onto him with no intention of letting go anytime soon.

“I’m so, so, so sorry.” I repeat, and keep on saying it over and over and over again, despite Bryan’s soft whispers that I don’t have to apologize for anything.

Bryan finally nudges my head up to look at him.

“You’re crying.” He says, frowning and wiping away my tears. “It’s not your fault.”

What does he mean? Of course it’s my fault! I let fear get to me; I told him that I hated him!

Images of Bryan on the floor after he kissed me swarm my mind, pale and broken.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper again, the tears falling faster.

“Kyra, stop.” Bryan tells me, his voice firm and almost demanding, but still soft.

I look up at him, confused. “How can you forgive me so easily? I-I was awful to you! I pushed you away from me, and didn’t let you help. And then-then I told you that I h-hated you!” I stutter, my voice rising.

I take his shirt in my hands and curl them up into fists, pulling his face so close to me that if I leaned in any further, we’d be kissing. Neither of us tries to close the distance, though. We’re both looking at each other’s eyes, trying to figure out what the other is thinking.

“Why?” I ask him, pleading for an answer. “Why would I do that to you? Why?”

Bryan pulls away from me and I let go of his shirt. He straightens it out and looks back at me.

“Your kidney failed.” He tells me.

I nod. I already know this.

“Do you know what some of the side effects of kidney failure are?” Bryan asks me, holding my arm.

I shake my head ‘no’.

“Hallucinations and paranoia.”

I don’t say anything for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.

Hallucinations and paranoia.

Wasn’t paranoia why I freaked out at Bryan? I had hallucinations too, didn’t I?

Does this mean it isn’t my fault?

As the realization dawns on me I look up at Bryan, feeling a weight lifting itself off of my shoulders. It’s okay- how I acted really wasn’t my fault. I flash back to one of the doctors saying something about me having hallucinations, and how I wasn’t responsible for anything I said. That was when I was having them, so his words didn’t make sense to me then.