metanoia

Chapter Thirteen

I had to plug my ears to block out the whirring noises, cries of agony, sobbing, and muffled coughs of the hospital. I didn't know which noises were coming from Evie's room. I didn't really care to. I didn't want to know what was happening to you. I started to say my ABCs in my head over and over to block everything out.

Q, R, S, T, U, V...

"Michael?" a female voice called.

"Yeah?" I asked, blinking my way back to reality. Why are lights in hospitals so blindingly bright? Damn.

"You can come see her, if you want. There's something I-"

"Is that contraption of yours gone?" I asked. I'd probably go in if it was there or not.

"Yes, it's gone. No worries." Macy smiled. She wrapped her arm around me. I tried not to recoil, but it felt awful to be comforted by someone who wasn't Evie. The only one I wanted to comfort me about Evie's mental illness was healthy Evie.

I walked into the room. Everything was brighter. They'd opened the blinds. Evie lay peacefully on her bed, eyes half closed, dreamily staring into the light.

"Hi..." she murmured, gaze unmoving.

"Hi..." I echoed, trying desperately to get her eye contact. "Why are her pupils like that?" I gave up on Evie and turned to look at Macy.

"She's not right yet. She was heavily intoxicated. She'll have a helluva hangover-she needs to drink a lot of water and eat light foods for a day or two. She's lucky she didn't get alcohol poisoning or something. She's hardcore. Her stomach lining is so thin it's practically nonexistent. It's a miracle she hasn't felt any pain from it yet, but we've got a prescription for her to take to numb the pain she'll inevitably be feeling. She has to lay off the alcohol and drugs, and smoking isn't helping her situation either. She has to quit slicing herself up. Basically, she has to drop all these bad habits, she can no longer go on destroying herself."

"I'm heavily inebriated..." Evie moaned from her bed.

"Are you?" I questioned, while Macy held back a laugh.

"I am. Heavily. 'Nebriated." Evie said again. "Heavily. 'Nebriated."

I sat beside her on her bed and held her hand.

"Am I gonna die?" She asked.

"I don't think so." I replied, patting her hand.

"Cool. I got stuff to do. Not my time yet." She nodded, as if assuring herself.

"Not your time yet." I agreed, giving her another pat.

"No more therapy, though. Just take me home. They can give me drugs. You can therapy me." Evie smiled.

"I'll take you ho-"

"About that," Macy began, wringing her hands as she spoke. "you won't be going home, Evangeline. You'll be going to a hospital."

"Excuse me?" I squeezed Evie's hand. "Okay, I know that Eve is sad and all, maybe even clinically depressed, but shouldn't I be asked about this?"

"Shouldn't I be asked about this?" Evie shouted. "I'm the one being put in a psycho hospital!"

"It's not a 'psycho' hospital, Evangeline. It's going to help you."

"Stop calling me Evangeline! You know me, Macy! I'm fine!"

"You're not fine. You've tried to kill yourself far too many times. You're a hazard to yourself. I'm not waiting for you to become a hazard to others, too. You might already be one." Macy's expression was much colder than it had been 3 minutes ago. I was speechless.

"You're taking her away from me?" I choked out.

"I'm sorry, Michael."

"You know, I don't think you are!" I shouted. "This is my girlfriend! She's not insane, she's sad! I need her to be here where I can watch her!"

"You can write each other letters. It's time to go, Michael." Macy said.

"No! I'm not leaving!" I yelled.

"Michael," Evie soothed. "I'll be okay. We can talk later, okay? I love you, sweetheart." She blew me a kiss with the hand connected to her scarred wrist. I sighed, blew her a kiss, and left, thoughts flying around my head like crazy bees.