Mare Moody - [blank]

"Alright," she sighs.

"I can go pack my bags?" I ask, the smile glued to my face.

"You can go pack your bags." She rolls her eyes and gestures for me to follow her.

My heart beats with joy. I am finally going home. She walks me to the nurses station and hands me my black pair of Chuck Taylors. Thank the lord. I hold them in my hands like my child. She turns and keeps walking. We walk along the corridor towards my room. I march with a strut in my step. I am ready to get back out into the world. Truth is, I am probably going to stay with Tabitha for another couple months. At least until the baby is born. I doubt that Noah will want to talk to me anymore and I don't even want to attempt to contact Kane. Don't even get me started on Brook. I can't go back into old habits when I am actually making a difference in my life. I may not always want help but naturally help comes to me. It as if my mother has grown into an angelic form and lead just the right people back into my life. She stopped my suicide attempt; I am sure of it. I just wish I had stopped her's.

I throw my assorted clothing in my bag as fast as possible. I pause in front of the Juilliard sweatshirt. It is folded neatly from my mental shit storm last night. I grab it and hold it in my hands carefully. My sophomore dreams may be gone but the reminder of them does help. I was a person before Kane. I am a person. I know I can't protect Noah. Life will happen. Goddamnit. I am a person. I am finally get out of here. I grab my backpack and pull off my zip-tie shoes. I place my Chuck Taylors on the floor and slowly put them on. The smile on my face doubles when I stand up and feel the soft cushions under my toes. The only thing that has ever given me comfort is being with things that I have kept with me for my whole life. My Chuck's being one of them. I sling my backpack over my shoulder. The walk out of my room is one of glory. I am excited. I want to express that - but somewhere, buried way down deep, is uncertain. If I am sick enough to wind up and I don't remember it ever getting that bad, how do I know that I won't come straight back here? I shove the doubt aside and glue a smile on my face. I think of the beating sun, the busy streets and the smell of gasoline in the air. I want it back. I want the city. Being stuck in a medical building is like living in a clorox wipe. Not a single bacteria touches me other than the nasty germs that slip through the cracks. Sadly, those germs tend to be the worst kind. Vomit, snot, and lots and lots of Hep B positive tears.

When I step out of my room and into the winding hallway, I look around. This place is still a labyrinth. Whether I look left or right, the hallway looks like a trick mirror causing you to see through 'inception' vision. It is identical on both sides. I have only learned through recognition. Repetition is the mother of memory. I say a silent prayer for whoever occupies my space when I leave. Lord have mercy on them. I hope Jamie comes out ok and more than that, I hope Brook comes out even better. I know that's a lot to ask. I have the voices attack me as ferociously as they do him. The only difference is that mine reject the use of razors. I just hope that Brook's do too at some point. I walk to the nurse's station and smile at Nurse Juay.

"Who do you want to call?"

I recite Tabitha's number with pride.

"You can say goodbye to anybody you want while I make the call." She smiles back at me.

"Thanks," I say. I walk down the hallway and into the cafeteria.

The busyness of the room is somewhat alarming. I am usually in the midst of it so watching as a bystander is very unnerving for me. I graze over the many people and look for one person in particular. I see his head ducked over his plate. He sits alone at the table. Now I know what he had been doing before I came along. I am sure in his 3 weeks here he has made different friends who have come and gone. I wish I could keep him as a friend but I know I see him on the outside the I will proceed to do some very regrettable things. I walk up behind him and loudly call in his ear.

"Hi there!"

He jumps at least a half an inch off of his seat and looks back at me.

"Don't rape me!"

The air around us is dead silent. I look at him shocked. I don't know if he has some sort of bad memory that I just triggered by scaring him.

His face cracks with a smile and he starts laughing triumphantly.

"You can never scare me," he says, his laugh growing louder. "You should have seen your face!"

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"I just wanted to say good-bye," I say.

"You're leaving?" His look of triumph sheds rapidly.

"Yeah. I only had to be here for 48 hours because they can't give me meds."

"Oh." He looks down at the ground. He is defeated. I don't think he expected me to leave so soon. Then again, neither did I.

"Hey, maybe I'll see you on the outside?" I ask timidly. I know I don't mean it—though I wish I did.

He stands up and looks around the cafeteria mysteriously.

"Come with me," he urges. He walks towards the exit, the nurses suspiciously eyeing us the whole time. We make it in into the hallway and he begins speed walking. I try to catch up with his pace as he turns down a corner. I haven't been in this corner of the ward before. How much of this hell have I not experienced yet.

"I have to go, Brook," I demand.

"Just follow me!" He says. There is excitement in his tone. He slows down for a second and looks at me with his bright green eyes. He smiles widely and puts his hand out for me to grab it. My heart stalls. His gaze remains fixed on me and I know it won't let go until I give him my hand. Fuck it. I peel off my insatiable worry and put my hand in his palm. He grips it and starts running. The slippery tile holds no grip on my Chuck's. At any moment I could lose my footing and fall. It is that lottery that propels me to test it farther. Nothing motivates people more than fear. We run free through the halls, the wind whipping against our faces. The sunken yellow lights glow down on us. The dim light barely lights the hallway but he guides me and I know I won't get lost.

We stop in front of a door. I have no idea where we are. The hallway has a new smell to it. Instead of pancakes, it smells like moldy pancakes. Brook pulls at the doorknob but it doesn't budge. I sigh.

"If we ran all this way to find a locked door, I'm going to deck you," I joke.

He turns back to me and winks. His sly smile makes me worry. He is much to mischievous. He rummages in his pocket for a moment until pulling out a business card.

"Dr. Simmons is good for one thing," he says.

He takes the business card and pushes it into the crack between the lock and the door. He slides it down like a credit card and I hear the lock snap back. He looks back at me, gloating as he opens the door. Inside is his room. His clothing is throwing into heaping piles and the mysterious rotting smell comes back ten fold. It hits me hard and I curl my lip to distract my nose while not making it obvious to Brook. It makes me wonder how he doesn't wreek. He walks in and turns to his dresser. On top of it lies a towel with an object tightly wrapped in it. He grabs it and hands it to me.

"I made this for you." He smiles as he passes it over. He is very proud of it. I make a mental note to be happy with it no matter what it is.

I unwrap the towel and a large stone falls out onto my palm. I look at it closely and it is carved in the shape of a fish. The scales are so intricate that at a distance, it would look alive. I hold gently in my hands and look up at him. I am in awe that he would be able to do this is in just two days and it look so beautiful.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't completely done but I want you to have it before you go and I-"

"It's beautiful, Brook." I smile, looking at the delicately made sculpture. My heart drops and I feel the knots begin to form.