Broken Screams

The doctor smiled at me nervously.
“Are you feeling better Devin?”
I wanted to strike her, to ask how she would feel if her love died, how she would deal with the world disappearing. Instead I lied.
“I feel a lot better actually. Will I be allowed to go soon?”
I fought to keep my voice from shaking.
“Well, as soon as your strong enough, which should be soon, you can start PT, but I’m afraid that with the state your back is in it’ll be quite some time before you’re released.”
She hesitated before speaking again.
“Mr. Thoms, you’re also on suicide watch. We read your history, and felt it was wide to bring you in for a little…extra help.”
It was difficult to hold back screams. A few months in a rehab center that would haunt me forever. I didn’t fucking want therapy, I needed you.
“Oh.”
“I’ll have the nurse bring food in. Have a nice day Devin.”
Go fuck yourself Dr. Fersinoto.
‘Sure.”
“Devi, I’m back.” Your warm breath on my cheek. “It’s so lonely without you.” You’re perched on the bed, smiling. I reach a hand to your waist but you pull away. “No no. Bad people don’t touch me.” “Mex?” You crawl closer, touch your lips to my ear. “You killed me baby.” There’s a screech and your face twists to reveal you, blood splattered and white. There are red dots in your pupils. When I cry out you’re gone.
I ended up sobbing after that, until exhaustion (or meds) forced me to sleep. When I woke up the doctor was back. She was still smiling.
“I think it’d be nice to start therapy today.”
About as nice if you stabbed me through the heart. I was wheeled to a smiley room with dark carpets and tacky furniture.
“Ms. Silesa will be out soon.”
She strode away. I lay back, staring at the ceiling until someone cleared their throat.
“Hello?”
There was a woman sitting in one of the chairs. I’d never seen anyone so pale, her dark hair a sharp contrast. But her eyes popped, very large and green. My first impression of her was sickly and small, maybe some anorexic bitch come to whine about her ‘problems’.
“What?”
She flinched back, then spoke again with effort.
“Uh, I’m Alice.”
“So?”
Her eyes widened and filled with tears. I felt kinda bad.
“Er. Sorry. So, Alice, huh? Like the vampire movie?”
I’d seen it with you.
“No. Like the book. Go Ask Alice?”
I grunted.
“What about you?”
I tilted my head.
“Huh?”
For the first time she showed emotion, looking at me like I was stupid.
“Your name?”
“Devin.”
We sat in silence for a few moments until she blurted out,
“Why are you here?”
My fists clenched.
“My fiancée died. In a train wreck. I hurt my back and apparently my sanity. Now I’m here.”
Alice’s entire face got sadder.
“My God. I’m so sorry….I don’t know what to say.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I lied.
“What about you?”
She flushed, looking down.
“I’m on suicide watch….for the 6th time.”
Suddenly our positions were flipped. Now I felt awkward.
“Six?”
“They think I’m all fixed up so I’m sent back to my….loving….family, try to kill myself, then get shipped back here. “
“Well, if your family loves you…”
She grimaced.
“Yes, if you consider rape love.”
She leaned forward, green eyes keeping me in place.
“Tell me, do you think it’s love when a father comes into his daughter’s room at night and touches her because ‘little girls are the tastiest’? Is it love when he tapes himself making her scream? Love when her mother just stands by as he fucks her on their bed? Is that love? Cause if it is, why shouldn’t I kill myself?”
She lifted up her shirt, exposing dozens of cuts over her torso. The largest was below her heart, a thick red line messily stitched together. She tapped it gently.
“Almost did it that time.”
Alice sat there, scars etched on her skin, and shone. For the first time I felt…admiration? for someone other than you. Then came the pity after her calm telling of the monster that was her family.
“But…but…”
Her face, which had been open, closed again.
“Is your train wreck the one that happened on November 15th?”
I nodded.
“Then your fiancée’s obituary must be in the papers. They did a special article on the crash.”
I almost fell from the bed, all thoughts of her family gone.
“Get it for me. Please!”
Alice cringed from me but agreed.
“What was her name?”
I didn’t need her to tell me who she meant.
“Mexine Durham.”
Your name came out twisted through my lips, mangled by pain.
“I’ll get her for you.”
Her name was called.
“Alice, come in.”
“That’s me.”
She stood, limping to the door. I noticed her feet were bare. More blood splotched bandages wrapped around her ankles. It only took a little while for you to visit me again. This time you were a memory.