Only Human
2
It had been a week since Nixie's outburst the nurses liked the call it. She was quite the handful, so it goes. Nixie wasn’t like most of the patients, on account, she wasn’t exactly insane (according to her) but she wasn’t exactly cooperative either. Seventy-two hours in psychiatric evaluation, Nixie could understand, not a month and a half in solitary confinement for supposedly kicking a doctor, and now sharing a room with a multi-personality disorder patient. Perhaps, the walk around the garden wasn’t really a walk but a sprint towards the gates. Yet, hope is the only emotion stronger than fear. With just a little society can function, people can stay alive etc. Hope overpowers and out shines fear.
Nixie had hope; a lot of hope. That she was neither mental nor suicidal. It was just someone wanted her dead. Someone wanted her dead now. Death wanted her dead. How foolish; she’d thought, her brain spinning and twirling around from the sedatives she was giving.
"Do you know why they give us so many pills?" Nixie's roommate asked the girl just simply shrugged her bony shoulders. "It slows our reactions. We won't run."
Run. The thought made Nixie laugh. Run. Like she'd be able to up and leave that easily. She’s already tried and her of all people. A laugh radiated through her tiny frame. Nixie Edwards was being watched over as if she'd tried to bomb London. She was nearly a Harry Potter character. The girl who lived. Nixie should have died in the driver seat of the car. Should have, could have, and would have. But she didn't. Did that impregnate her with the ideals that maybe and just maybe someone up there was on her side? Why would they be?
The thoughts alone made her eyes roll. Nixie had no faith in some sort of twisted being that may or may not even be human. What exactly was the point to bestowing such virtue to something so intangible? Why did man-kind believe that God was the only salvation we had? Jesus Christ, what happened to Bono? Remember when he thought he was our only salvation. Nixie dropped herself back in her bed, skipping group session and therapy seemed the way to go. Her wounded arm dangled off the cot, her finger tips tracing small circular patterns in the linoleum. Bono she thought cynically, her teeth pressing down on her split lip.
............................
“Miss Edwards, you have a visitor?” A head peeked into her room, the own uncertainty in the nurse’s voice only perked Nixie’s interests. She slowly drew from the cot, her black sweat pants sliding up her leg exposing the unshaven flesh. Nixie adjusted her white shirt and black fleece trousers once her bare feet touched the cool floors. Suddenly, she was embarrassed, her hair hadn’t of been washed properly, along with her skin, her fingernails were chewed down to the virtual core. Her exposed self-inflicted wound presented itself in a more disgusting manner than it usually had.
Nixie followed the nurse nervously to the sitting room, her bare feet sliding against the linoleum floor trying to slow her pace down the corridor. A man she’d never seen before sat rather impatiently in one of the cushioned seats, his feet bounced up and down, the black phone seemed to toss and turn in his grip, occasionally stopping to check the time. Once the mysterious man had spotted her, he stood up, the phone falling to the floor in a very unflattering sound, much different compared to the normal silence amongst the “clinic.”
“You’re a very hard person to track down.” He greeted her before bending down to retrieve the inanimate object that took a leap from his grasp.
“Who are you?” she squinted, trying to recall a face to a name, or more so a name to a face. Her arms crossed over her chest as he flopped back down into the chair. She scanned over his face, short brown hair, green eyes, and a small amount of scruff. He wore a red flannel shirt unbuttoned, a white shirt under it and black trousers. Nixie has never seen this man before.
"Don't be silly little sister-" He replied throwing his arm around her shoulder pulling her into an awkward hug. "Just play along." He whispered into her ear as his arms wrapped tighter around her. Nixie gave a questioning and unsure look to him. He unwrapped himself from her, keeping a grip on her wrist.
"Come on, I'll explain."
Nixie had hope; a lot of hope. That she was neither mental nor suicidal. It was just someone wanted her dead. Someone wanted her dead now. Death wanted her dead. How foolish; she’d thought, her brain spinning and twirling around from the sedatives she was giving.
"Do you know why they give us so many pills?" Nixie's roommate asked the girl just simply shrugged her bony shoulders. "It slows our reactions. We won't run."
Run. The thought made Nixie laugh. Run. Like she'd be able to up and leave that easily. She’s already tried and her of all people. A laugh radiated through her tiny frame. Nixie Edwards was being watched over as if she'd tried to bomb London. She was nearly a Harry Potter character. The girl who lived. Nixie should have died in the driver seat of the car. Should have, could have, and would have. But she didn't. Did that impregnate her with the ideals that maybe and just maybe someone up there was on her side? Why would they be?
The thoughts alone made her eyes roll. Nixie had no faith in some sort of twisted being that may or may not even be human. What exactly was the point to bestowing such virtue to something so intangible? Why did man-kind believe that God was the only salvation we had? Jesus Christ, what happened to Bono? Remember when he thought he was our only salvation. Nixie dropped herself back in her bed, skipping group session and therapy seemed the way to go. Her wounded arm dangled off the cot, her finger tips tracing small circular patterns in the linoleum. Bono she thought cynically, her teeth pressing down on her split lip.
............................
“Miss Edwards, you have a visitor?” A head peeked into her room, the own uncertainty in the nurse’s voice only perked Nixie’s interests. She slowly drew from the cot, her black sweat pants sliding up her leg exposing the unshaven flesh. Nixie adjusted her white shirt and black fleece trousers once her bare feet touched the cool floors. Suddenly, she was embarrassed, her hair hadn’t of been washed properly, along with her skin, her fingernails were chewed down to the virtual core. Her exposed self-inflicted wound presented itself in a more disgusting manner than it usually had.
Nixie followed the nurse nervously to the sitting room, her bare feet sliding against the linoleum floor trying to slow her pace down the corridor. A man she’d never seen before sat rather impatiently in one of the cushioned seats, his feet bounced up and down, the black phone seemed to toss and turn in his grip, occasionally stopping to check the time. Once the mysterious man had spotted her, he stood up, the phone falling to the floor in a very unflattering sound, much different compared to the normal silence amongst the “clinic.”
“You’re a very hard person to track down.” He greeted her before bending down to retrieve the inanimate object that took a leap from his grasp.
“Who are you?” she squinted, trying to recall a face to a name, or more so a name to a face. Her arms crossed over her chest as he flopped back down into the chair. She scanned over his face, short brown hair, green eyes, and a small amount of scruff. He wore a red flannel shirt unbuttoned, a white shirt under it and black trousers. Nixie has never seen this man before.
"Don't be silly little sister-" He replied throwing his arm around her shoulder pulling her into an awkward hug. "Just play along." He whispered into her ear as his arms wrapped tighter around her. Nixie gave a questioning and unsure look to him. He unwrapped himself from her, keeping a grip on her wrist.
"Come on, I'll explain."
♠ ♠ ♠
cmnt&subs.