Pulse

FIVE

FIVE

Liam Bouchard could barely feel his fingertips as it brushed against the bare skin of his forearm where the sleeve of his plaid shirt had been rolled up to the elbow.

Chills enveloped his entire body but at the same time, he could feel the deeply uncomfortable numbness. He leaned his heavy head against the wall behind him, eyes closed as cold sweat began forming on the skin of his forehead.

Liam pulled the hoodie over his head and folded his arms across his chest. He was silent but in so much agony that all he wanted to do was scream.

He tried taking deep breaths but only had shallow ones and that in turn caused him to feel a sense of breathlessness; always trying to catch his next breath.

In spite of all the pain in his body, Liam was acutely aware of his surroundings.

The ticking clock hanging on the wall across from him, the conversation shared among the soon-to-be parents who were seated five seats away from him, the crying baby in the doctor's office, and the sound of...

"Hey, you alright?"

It was his neighbour who was asking the question and although he appreciated her concern, Liam couldn't find the strength to respond that he wasn't.

Not taking silence for an answer, the stranger reached out and shook him gently by the shoulder, worried that something was terribly wrong.

Her instincts were right when she called a nurse over to check on the 16-year-old's vitals.

In an instant, Liam sensed people crowding around him but with his eyes still closed, he couldn't see that they wore concerned expressions on their faces.

He felt a hand wrap around his wrist to measure his pulse and was certain it was the nurse.

When he opened his eyes to confirm this, all he saw was pitch black darkness. It was then when he slumped to the ground and the last thing he heard was the heightened sounds of panic.

-

Liam's eyes fluttered open and the piercing bright light caused him to squint in discomfort.

"Welcome back," Chase said as Liam slowly came to, realizing that he was now in a hospital ward with needles in his arms and a parched throat that felt like he hadn't drunk any liquid for days, which honestly might just be true.

Though the IV drip in his arm did its job, Chase offered Liam a cup of water to ease him of his discomfort.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Chase asked, holding a medical chart in one hand and a pen in the other.

Liam shook his head no. Clearly, everything was still a little fuzzy for him and Chase wouldn't blame him. He had been out cold for a few days.

"You've got some nasty bruises on your chest and a couple of broken ribs and I'm guessing you were self-medicating for a bit because your injury has got to be at least a couple of days old," Chase mentioned, hoping Liam would explain the cause of it but the kid remained silent, clearly going over in his head whether he could trust Chase with the truth.

Chase pulled the curtains shut to give them both some privacy, assuring Liam that he was safe here and that he could tell his doctor anything in confidence.

"Is someone hurting you, Liam?" Chase asked slowly, knowing that these questions can never be rushed, especially when the patient isn't ready to divulge just yet. "You came here because you knew you needed help and that taking painkillers alone wasn't going to help the extent of your injury. So let us help you. Let me help you."

When Liam remained silent, Chase sat down beside him, indicating that he would take the time to listen to his patient and that he need not rush through his response.

"I've been in and out of the system ever since I was 8. My folks died and the only other person I had in my life was my mom's sister and at 16, she was pretty much a kid herself. She couldn't possibly take care of me too. So I went from home to home, changing addresses every few years because they couldn't place me with a family that wanted to keep me," Liam said, looking at his hands.

When he finally looked up, Chase could see that there were tears welling up in his ocean blue eyes.

"This is my fifth home. And my foster dad? He's not a bad person. He pays his taxes and he feeds us and he gives me a roof over my head. But he's also a very different person when he has alcohol swimming in his veins. I just...I just know that I'm so close to being of legal age and I'd be free. I'm just so close. Just two more years of him and I can be on my own for good."

Liam's hands were shaking and he tried to make them stop but then his entire body was shaking too as he began crying in fear.

Despite knowing that Liam was merely his patient, Chase reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's okay," he said.

"You know, I grew up in foster care too. And I was fortunate to have just one family. But I know how many kids out there have the same story as you and I count my blessings everyday that a good family chose me out of the fifty kids in my orphanage. I know it's scary to be placed in the system again but you can't let him beat you senseless and get away with it. Nobody should ever have to put up with that," Chase continued.

He scribbled on a piece of paper the digits of his cell number and placed it within Liam's grasp. "I want you to know that I'm always here. I'm a call away," he said, knowing that it was against protocol but he also knew that if he were in Liam's position, he'd hope that someone would do the same.