Chapter 2 - Sophie
“Thank you, sweetheart,” the older lady says with a warm smile as I check her vitals again. Even though I already have them written down in her file, the second check is for good measure.
“No need to thank me, Mrs. Walter,” I return as I lift my eyes from the monitor. “I’m just doing my job.”
“And if it wasn’t for you doing your job, I’d probably be dead,” she titters under her breath, sighing as she closes her eyes and leans into her pillow.
She’s unaware that her words have caught me off guard, freezing me on the spot as I watch her lying obliviously on her hospital bed. I’ve heard those very same words before, and I fell into a trap because of them.
It’s not like Mrs. Walter has any ulterior motives or that she’s trying to reel me in with the bait of sweet words. She doesn’t have eyes as deep as the ocean, or a smile so charming that it could melt stone.
It’s simple thanks from an older woman whose blood sugar levels were alarmingly high when she was rushed to the hospital.
With careful observation and care, I’ve been keeping her stable for the past three days, even weaning her off a high dose of insulin that has adverse side effects in the long run.
She’s just grateful. That’s all.
That’s what I have to keep telling myself, even when I leave her to rest and head to the staff room to pack my things away after my shift. It’s what I have to chant like a mantra in my head to hang on to my sanity, lest I hear his voice ringing out.
“Hey, Sophie! Wanna join us?” Allison, a fellow nurse, comes out of the bathroom, pointing to the door just as another colleague, Jess, walks in.
“Yeah, we’re getting drinks at Brewing,” Jess continues as she takes off her badge and hangs it behind the door. “But we’re stopping over at my place first.”
Allison giggles as she picks up her handbag. “We need to get all dolled up, and Jess’s wardrobe needs to be raided.”
I giggle nervously as I find my favorite spot on the couch by the window overlooking the town.
Warm yellow lights illuminate the streets below, covering the town on a Saturday night with a certain sense of comfort and peace.
People can be seen moving around; lovers holding hands, friends headed to the local bars.
But for some reason, I can’t seem to find joy in any of those frivolous things.
Perhaps it’s because tomorrow is a Sunday, and I’d rather be doing everything I can to distract myself in the confines of my bedroom, instead of places I’d visited with Damian.
“You guys go ahead,” I say with a playful, dismissive wave. “I’m gonna go home and sleep. I have double shifts tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, Soph!” Allison complains, pouting dramatically. “You never go out with us on a Saturday night!”
Because I need the time to mentally prepare myself for the next day, I think to myself scornfully, but plaster a smile on my face, because my coworkers are not to blame for how I feel about life in general.
“Well, Jess’s stuff won’t fit me,” I point out as I gesture to my body. Allison rolls her eyes, and Jess chuckles.
“As if we’re gonna believe that you’re insecure!” Jess chides, and I stifle my embarrassment.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I shouldn’t be insecure, but it’s hard not to be when growing up wasn’t exactly easy.
Sure, I’ve found my place among kind people who accept me for who I am, but still, there’s doubt that lingers, and insecurity that rears its ugly head, especially when my mind drifts to him.
Those thoughts are unwelcome, but they’re there, demanding to be faced when I’ve abandoned them for two years. But the heartbreak I felt back then has festered into insecurity that makes me worry too much about my weight and being seen in public.
Or maybe it’s just an excuse, because I can’t direct my hatred at the man who hurt me, so I’m internalizing it, hating myself, hating everything that signals joy and hope, and sticking to routine like it’s a lifeline.
“I’m not insecure,” I sigh, the words a half-truth only. “It’s an excuse, okay? I need every second of rest I can get. Double shifts tomorrow, remember?”
Jess rolls her eyes as Allison joins her at the door. “Well, all work and no play makes Jill a dull girl.”
“Well, good thing my name’s Sophie!” I giggle, and Jess and Alison join me.
“See you on Monday, Soph!” Allison bids goodbye before they both leave the staffroom.
I sigh when I’m alone, turning back to the window and lifting my eyes to the sky, where the stars shine brighter than the streetlights, and the full moon’s silver glow is the star of the nighttime show.
Only a small part of me still appreciates the natural beauty that lies out there. If there is a divine being, a god, it sure did take the time to handcraft the precious creations all around. It’s a pity that it crafted humans, too—supposedly “perfectly imperfect,” with something like free will.
Free will is a curse when it’s used to hurt another heart. Damian Hans exercised his free will when he pursued me, only to pull the rug out from under me when he broke up with me, and that wasn’t fair.
I tried to make logical sense of what happened by detaching from my personal feelings and looking at the heartbreak as an observer.
It’s not the first time in history that someone decided that their partner of a few months wasn’t the one for them, and decided that it was time to walk away.
But even then, understanding it logically can’t fix what broke when it happened.
My heart. My poor, naive, unsuspecting heart had filled with love for him in such a short time, and all it took was one moment of hesitation from him for me to lose my mind.
I take a deep breath when I feel those emotions I’d been suppressing coming to the surface, crawling beneath my skin and threatening the sanity I’ve built for myself these past two years. I’m sane when I’m detached. Numb. It’s best this way.
Work. Home. Rinse. Repeat.
That’s all I need to focus on, and that’s why I purposely tunnel my vision as I walk down the street once I’ve left the hospital for the night.
I don’t get to stargaze, I don’t get to appreciate the full moon in the sky.
Not without my mind drifting to him, so I should remain unfazed by the world around me.
Hugging my arms across my chest, I slow down as I near the traffic light, lifting my head to check if it’s green for me to cross the road.
The light burns bright red, but suddenly flashes as if it’s glitching.
My brows knit into a frown as I find myself suddenly intrigued by the flashing red light, my vision tunnelling for a different reason as I stare ahead.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle at attention, and a gasp leaves my lips, but it’s not audible. Instead, there’s an eerie silence that spreads above me, around me, and a distant ringing sound enters my left eardrum.
The ringing isn’t a screeching sound, but it escalates into something natural, something primal, like an animal in the wild crying out for help.
The sound of the howl wraps its fingers around my heart and squeezes, and I keel over, pain ripping through me like lethal talons scraping my insides.
I feel movement up my throat, but I can’t hear myself screaming.
Pressing my eyelids shut, I will myself out of whatever strange thing is happening to me.
The howling stops, and so does the squeezing of my heart, releasing me with a gasp that returns the sound of my surroundings. Owls hooting in the treetops, the subtle, faint flow of the river, machines and lights humming, and the earth breathing again.
Groaning—audibly now—a newfound sense of resentment sets in as I hug myself tighter, my face hardening with an expression I can only imagine looks fierce from the outside.
I’m crawling toward the one day of the week I hate the most, in the peak of summer, and now I’m entering some paralyzing psychosis in which I’m hearing animal sounds…
Gosh! I must be reaching burnout, working all these double shifts just to keep my head above the water. Irritated that my body and mind can’t handle the one thing that my heart desperately needs, I finally cross the street and round the corner toward my apartment building.
Another chill slithers down my spine when I get to my door, but I ignore it, dismissing what I’m feeling to a lack of rest—not sleep, rest. Mental rest. The kind in which I can shut off my mind and feel relaxation flowing through my body.
It feels like ages since I had that, so instead of crashing on the sofa like I usually would, I run a hot bath, pour myself a glass of wine, and indulge in some much-needed “me time.”
It seems to work, with every sip of wine as my body is immersed in warm water that lifts the fragrance of the essential oils into my airways, bringing me relaxation, easing the tension knotted in my shoulders. Exhaling a sigh of relief, I climb out of the bathtub and get ready to go to bed.
My eyes close before my head even hits the pillow, arms stretched out beside me, palms facing up like I’m about to meditate. I don’t change positions, feeling comfortable this way, feeling right, and a few breaths in, and I’m drifting off into a soothing place where rest feels as plush as clouds.
***
Trying to scream, no sound leaves my lips, but my heart hammers in my chest, throat constricting around what should have been a terrified scream.
I’m in the forest, panic flowing through me like the blood in my veins, hot, chaotic, desperate to survive. It’s my fight or flight instincts kicking in, but I don’t know which side I’m leaning toward when a loud, treacherous screech rips through the forest, bouncing off the pines and firs.
A cloud of smoky, dark mass wisps through the trees, soaring toward me, when a large hand grabs my wrist and spins me around in the opposite direction, pulling me deeper into the woods, but away from the dark matter in the air.
In the chaos of running forward, the blur of my vision clears for a split second, just long enough to catch a glimpse of the person pulling me forward, their hand clasped protectively around my wrist.
Blue eyes meet mine, and my frantic breath catches in my throat, stopping my feet and tugging on the hand that holds my wrist.
“Damian…?” I whisper in disbelief, brows furrowing into the tightest frown.
He turns to me fully, grabbing my shoulders with both hands as blue eyes plead with mine.
“We have to keep running, Soph,” he warns, his voice crystal clear, stunning me with how much I missed hearing it.
“Are…are you real…?” I ask, blinking fervently as I glance down at his hand still clasped around my wrist. It feels warm, human, and real, and I lift my eyes back to his face to find his crystalline blue eyes staring at me with a softness I’d been missing.
“I am as real as that thing chasing us,” he says just as another thunderous screech pounds through the woods. “We need to run. Now!”
“Wait!” I call out, stopping him from turning just as the darkness begins to creep up on us, the light from the full moon dimming out.
I take a step closer, reaching up on my tiptoes, and without a thought, I press my lips to his. The impact is explosive, sending awareness coursing through every nerve ending in my body, and it jolts me…
…And snaps me out of the dream and into reality, where my alarm is blaring through the confines of my bedroom.
I groan as I smack the button at the top of the alarm clock, my heart racing inside my chest while beads of sweat run from my brow down my temples. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, disgruntled, irritated, and feeling like my sleep was stolen by the man who broke my heart.
No.
I don’t give his memory that much power. I can’t afford to crumble when I am the foundation and structure of my own life. No one is coming to save me if I need saving, not even Damian Hans from my dreams.
He walked out of my life, proving that I only had myself to rely on. I can’t be consumed by my emotions again, so I pull myself together at the dawn of a new day, even if it’s one I hate, because I have a double shift to get to, and a much-needed distraction to look forward to.