River Dreams

There is no 'us'

CHAPTER FOUR

Devil's Breath

RIVER

I got the call on a Sunday, I had just gotten home from work. I did nothing but think of her as I lugged around spare parts from a rusty car. I knew who it was the second I heard the ring.

"Dad, is she okay?" I asked. It had been months since her attempt at suicide but my nerves still spiked anytime he called.

"Yeah, she's fine, that's not why I'm calling," he answered.

"Why are you calling?"

"I've got some good news, I found a way for you to be with her."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and slumped onto the bed, I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples before pressing my face back against the phone.

"What?" I choked out.

The stale air now felt alive with energy, an electric blue that grabbed hold of my limbs and wouldn't let go.

"I've been keeping an eye on her and I know that they're looking for someone to stay at home and help around."

"They're afraid she's going to try again," I whispered.

He chuckled, "No point in hiding it I guess. I called New Haven, the doctors trusted me enough to recommend you," he said.

I nodded even though he couldn't see me, "You better not be joking."

"You know I wouldn't do that," he retorted, you could tell he was rolling his eyes as he said it.

"I'll do it, I just want to get her out of there."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, promise me you won't do something stupid," he warned.

"Just tell me what I need to do," I rummaged through a drawer and fished out a half torn notebook, "I'll do anything."

"We'll you better start by covering those damned tattoos."

VERA

It was late when my parents came home from the session with Dr. Anderson. Mom had come with a pamphlet describing the "Angel" program and invited me to come down and look through it with them. I watched her read through all the requirements and rules with my father. She happily pointed out that I was the perfect subject for such a program.

It was a fairly recent project but according to Dr. Anderson things couldn't have been going better for them, thousands of families around the US were looking into this program, it was practically a stay at home shrink.

Every 'Angel' goes through a year of training; most of them were young, straight out of college and looking to help out. I hoped I would get someone a little older, someone like a grandma. The entire idea made my eyes roll.

The worst part of it was the checklist at the back of the pamphlet. The list had gone on and on with what should be the characteristics of someone who wished to apply for an 'Angel':

- Emotionally unstable

- Depressed

- Unable to maintain social interactions outside of home

- Suicidal tendencies

Just to name a few.

I left the living room with a scowl plastered on my face, leaving my parents behind as they happily made plans as to where the 'Angel' would stay. I felt bitter.