Winter Wakes

Suicide. Simon. Those two words didn’t make sense side by side no matter how many times I tried to place them as such. Did he really? Why? How could he? I pushed a few strands of brown hair away from my face; the alcove between the science building and the math building provided a good bit of freedom from the constant breeze, but didn’t fully stop it. It didn’t matter though. I barely felt it. My mind was too preoccupied to care about the cold wind. My body had worse woes. There was a constantly increasing throbbing in my wrist, which was at this point swollen to about the size of a baseball. I didn’t care about that though. The only thing I could think about was what the ginger-haired frat boy had told me about Simon. Was that why he kept his death a secret from me? Because he drunk himself to death?

My head was beginning to throb from the chaotic, constant thoughts about Simon. But I couldn’t move, I could only stare blankly at the side walk in front of me and the train of students it held.

“Maggie?” Familiar. Southern. Ah, Katie pushed her way past a few people; I recognized the bleach blonde hair and accent anywhere. “Hey, Maggie?”

She snapped her fingers in front of my face causing me to jump slightly.

“Oh, Katie,” I muttered, I felt some trace of alertness making its way back into my system. “Hey.”

I looked up at her, realizing how odd of a look she was giving me. I tried to smile; my mouth didn’t want to work though. I couldn’t exactly manage a smile with all of these jumbled thoughts going through my mind. I settled for turning away.

“Hey, are you okay?” She queried. “You’re not, stoned or something, are you?”

I generally would have laughed at such an allegation. I couldn’t even muster that this time.

I sighed with the shake of my head, “No. I’m just…thinking too much.”

She didn’t say anything; I heard shuffling before I felt her body heat beside me on the bench. I tried to shift my weight so I could scoot over a little, just to give her more room on the bench. I’d practically had myself and my bags splayed across it.

“Shit!” I winced, jerking my hand off the bench and cradling it with my uninjured one.

“Fuck, Maggie, what happened to your wrist?” Her hands were on my arm, pulling it carefully away from my body before I could protest. I glanced down at it momentarily. Shit, it did look pretty bad.

“I um, tripped going down a set of stairs.”

“Maggie, get up. This looks broken. What the hell are you doing sitting out here with your wrist swollen like a watermelon? Huh?” Katie was now up, grabbing her bag as well as my own before fixating me with an angry, somehow concerned look. “We need to get you to the hospital, now come on. I will drag your ass to my car if I have to. This ain’t funny, dammit! Get up!”

I shuffled off the bench before following her, cradling my wrist once again. She pulled out her phone as we walked towards the parking lot, me a few feet behind. I managed to tune out what was being said though. Thoughts of the conversation I’d had with George about Simon once again flooding my mind. They wouldn’t go away. How could he do that?

It was then we stopped in front of a dark blue Camry, Katie threw open the trunk before giving me a sharp glance, “Get in the car.”

I didn’t say anything, just clambered in the front passenger seat. At that point my wrist was throbbing pretty badly; maybe going to the hospital wasn’t such a bad idea. Almost as soon as I heard the door close behind the assertive little Southern blonde, the car’s engine roared to life and we tore out of the parking lot. We ran one stop sign on our way out, then her car screeched slightly as we took a sharp turn. Was this how all southerners drove? I panicked a little, shuffling to get my seatbelt on.

“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking? That looks broken, Maggie! You need medical attention and I damn well don’t trust those school nurses for shit,” It was all concern that was pouring out of her, but traced with anger. Okay, I’d been pretty stupid but in this case I had an excuse. Unfortunately I couldn’t explain myself to anyone, so I seemed stupid and thoughtless as Katie probably perceived me now. “Look, I called ahead to the emergency room so I’m dropping you off at the doors and then I’ll go find a parking spot, okay?”

“I can walk to the door from the parking lot, Katie, really. It’s not like I broke a leg or my spine or something.” My voice lacked any emotion, any fight; probably because all of my emotions were centered anywhere but on my wrist, or on this conversation.

“Maggie, just stuff it, ‘kay? I’m dropping you off at the door, and once I get in there we’re gonna have a nice little chat about what the hell was going through that dense head of yours after you did that,” She nodded at my wrist as we took another turn. The hospital was now in sight, it was a surprisingly short drive, and very close to the school. Or maybe it was just Katie’s erratic driving. I wasn’t sure.

Katie’s car slowed down for the first time since we’d gotten off the campus as we came upon a crosswalk, which I would have normally voiced my surprise she stopped for. But I wasn’t in the mood, my mind was elsewhere. I watched, unconcerned as a couple crossed in front of us, shortly followed by a man in a nicely pressed business suit. It was when he briefly glanced at the car my mind went reeling again. I caught a glimpse of familiar icy blue eyes resting on his tanned, well sculpted face. I watched the back of his dark head as he hastily made his way for the building before him.

“Katie, I’ll get out here. Go find parking.”

I took my seatbelt off with one fluid motion, opening the door as she mashed on the breaks to stop the car from rolling.

“Maggie what the hell a—“

The door slammed behind me as I set off the path, keeping the man’s head just in view. My pace picked up as he went through the dark doors of the hospital lobby, I soon followed suit.

The pain in my wrist wasn’t increasing, but it was maintaining a constant throb. I tried to ignore it, and found it possible while on this distracting pursuit. My wrist could wait. I’d just found a person who could answer my questions about Simon’s death. I wasn’t going to lose this opportunity. I was kind of curious though, what was he doing at a hospital?

I would have sprinted across the lobby as I saw him step into the elevator; I say would have because the security guard walking around made me think twice about it. I just kept a steady walking pace as I heard the elevator doors shut, reaching those seconds later. I knew for a fact he had been the only one to get in; the couple who walked in before him had taken a detour into the gift shop. That was one thing I really couldn’t understand. Why did hospitals have gift shops?

I shook my head before looking up at the floor numbers posted above the elevator door; this was not the time for ADD to kick in. The little light stopped; floor five. Impatience had a strong hold on me as I waited for the elevator to come back down. With a ding, the door opened and I quickly shuffled through, pressing the button that would take me to the fifth floor.

Wait. What was I doing? Stalking someone through a hospital? I had a possibly broken wrist; logically one would head to the emergency room. But this situation’s logic had never been firmly intact. What certainly seemed illogical was Simon committing suicide. If he’d killed himself, why was he still around? Why did it seem like there was something going on?

The door to my back suddenly opened; that was the thing I hated about hospital elevators. I always forgot it wasn’t the door you came in that opened. The heels of my boots echoed loudly against the semi-reflective floor. It was quiet here. I don’t think I recalled it being this silent in a hospital. Usually you could hear the TVs from the patients’ rooms, or the chatter of nurses and their patients. But this, there was none of that. Every door I passed was closed. My heart rate began to pick up; something felt wrong here, something felt very wrong.

“No improvement?”

I stopped upon hearing the gruff voice from down the hall, immediately throwing myself in an archway that led to a patient’s room.

“No James, none.” I pinned the second voice immediately: Caroline Dreyton. They were both here?

I heard a sigh then, too heavy and too low to be hers, “I’m willing to wait. However long it may take.”

“Even if that wait may be infinite?”

“Yes, Caroline. However long,” The coldness in James Dreyton’s tone caused he and Simon’s matching blue eyes to flicker through my thoughts. I froze though as their footsteps came closer, my breath hitched in my throat. I shouldn’t be here, if they found me what would they think? How would I explain myself? I realized at that moment I couldn’t just openly come out and ask about Simon’s death, I couldn’t.

I pressed myself against the wall as they walked past, without noticing me. A few seconds later I heard the elevator door slide open, and then closed.

I stepped out into the hall after a couple moments, staring down at where they had come from. There was only one door at the end of the hall, and they’d both been here for whatever it was. I knew it wasn’t my place, or my business to go near that door. But, I also knew I couldn’t resist. This family was not what I expected. A suicidal son, a strange visit to a hospital. At this point it would be out of character for me not to explore it.

I stopped abruptly upon reaching the door much sooner than I’d expected. I don’t know how I’d gotten there so quickly, probably carried by my feet while my brain was elsewhere. Through the window I could see the foot of a bed. I don’t know what I’d expected. This was a hospital after all so naturally it had to be someone they knew in that bed.

Using my undamaged hand I pushed the door in, walking carefully into the room that’s eerie silence matched the entire floor. My eyes settled on the bed; that’s when my steps faltered. I stood there for I don’t know how long; staring. Things could never be simple; I don’t know what I’d expected, but not this. God, not this. I managed to muster up enough will in my shaking limbs to move forward, towards the chart at the foot of the bed. My eyes scanned it rapidly, settling with what I would have considered relief had it not been followed by confusion. I hadn’t seen this one coming.

“Oliver… Dreyton?” I muttered in bafflement. Glancing up again I looked at the figure in the bed. He looked to be asleep; but not peaceful. No, not at all. Purple and yellow bruises marred what would have been prettily pale and flawless skin. His right arm and left leg were held in casts, only a few white blonde curls poking through the bandages wrapped around the crown of his head. Still, I could see the exact mirror of someone else I knew through all of the damage.

“Condition: Comatose,” Simon’s voice was monotone. Looking behind me he was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, elbows on his knees with his chin resting on his entwined fingers. “Maggie, meet my twin.”