The Moments

Chapter Seventeen

JORDAN WILLS

I'm back in the hallway. Back to being alone. I'm somewhat aware that my mom will get worried soon, but I've never cared less. I'm starting to feel that way about everything. I just don't care. I can't think of a reason to.

The world is shifting before me, one second there's this weird spark of optimism, the next there is no feeling at all. Just empty and cold. I think I like it better like that. Its not that simple though. Eventually I'll have to face everything that is happening. There are no words to describe that feeling. I couldn't explain it to you if I tried. I really couldn't.

I'm walking through the hospital somewhat aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon Nick's room, but also hoping I never have to see him again. I'm not sure what I'll say. It feels like nothing matters right now. Like I could say anything and the world would just keep spinning. If it could just stop for one second. Just stop spinning and let me breath. I'd really appreciate that.

"Jordan?" a voice calls from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Dr. Moore moving slowly towards me. "Is everything alright?"

I must look pretty rough right now. I don't have the energy to pretend to be okay. It's just another thing that doesn't seem to matter. I don't feel like acting like I feel one way when I feel the complete opposite. I honestly don't have it in me.

"My friend killed himself."

She looks down and licks her lips. Her head nods in understanding. I think she knew. I almost feel shocked, but then that feeling mixes with all the others and vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

"Nick. He was a patient of mine." She doesn't look as boring today. She looks kind of like an actual person. A person with hobbies, and interests, and talents, and feelings. Usually she seems more like a bland robot dressed in beige, but today she seems human. I think it's because I'm the robot right now and everybody else suddenly seems interesting in comparison to me.

"I didn't know," I return.

I'm not just saying that I didn't know he was her patient, I'm saying that I didn't know anything about him. I thought I did, but I didn't. I didn't know he needed therapy. I didn't know he was so depressed. I didn't know he had it in him. I didn't fucking know. She just nods again. As though the world is so simple to her. As if everything is so plainly black and white.

"Come into my office. We can talk. You didn't attend today's session," she observes. She notions towards her room, but I shake my head.

"I have to go say goodbye. He's still in there. Just brain dead," I explain bluntly.

She just keeps nodding her goddamn head.

"I image this is hard on you, considering your father and all."

I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly that I can't think about anything except for the energy that it takes to keep my mind at bay. I can't think about him. If I think about him I will kill myself right now, so I can't think about him. I still have things I need to do. I can't think about him until I'm ready. As for right now, I never had a father. I never had a mother. I never had a brother. I never had anybody but a best friend and a girl I love.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I conclude and walk away before she has time to look confused. I used to derive such pleasure from confusing her. Now I just want everything to have this perfect clarity. Wouldn't that be nice. If things made sense.

I come to his room and peer in. I'm drained and empty. I have absolutely no desire to look at him. He isn't my friend. He is a stranger. He's not even a person anymore, just a shell. His heart beats, but his brain doesn't function. Whoever I'm looking at, I hate him. I hate him because he looks just like my happy, fun, perfect friend. I don't know who I'm looking at, but it isn't Nick. He wouldn't do this to himself. He wouldn't do this to me.