Blighted Soul

My mind became aware long before I opened my eyes. My ears registered the beeping of a heart monitor. And there was something on my arm…

My fingers crept down to the crook of my elbow and felt a tiny bit of plastic. I’d begun to pull at it when a hand clasped mine. “No, you don’t,” they said gently, but I could hear a raspy-ness in their voice. Either from disuse, or crying. Finally my eyes opened and I saw Scott sitting in an arm chair beside what I’d already guessed was my hospital bed. Looking down, I saw that I had an IV needle in my arm.

My mind was foggy and only able to process one thought: I didn’t kill myself. I didn’t succeed.

And now I would have to deal with the aftermath. I looked at my eldest brother and immediately knew that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy as well as light pink in color. He had deep bruises beneath his eyes, causing me to wonder just how long I’ve been here. His usually perfectly styled hair was a mess atop his head.

“Where are they?” I asked. My voice cracked and refused to go above a whisper.

“In the waiting room. They wouldn’t allow more than one person in here at a time. We’ve been taking turns.” He said quietly.

“How are they?”

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Hysterical. They can’t stop blaming themselves.”

My eyelids were incredibly heavy. My whole body felt lethargic. “Not their fault,” I mumbled. “I feel…funny.”

“It’s the pain meds,” he said with a half-hearted grin. “You had to have a blood transfusion, you know. So much blood…” He looked down to his shoes for a split second and when he looked up at me, his whole demeanor had changed. His face was rigid with seriousness. His back straightened.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked. Through the haze that was mind, I found a suitable answer.

“I’m dead—”

“No,” he said firmly, automatically shooting the idea down. “You’re alive, Evan. And you have people who care about you.”

I couldn’t look at him anymore. I stared at the tiled ceiling instead, trying my best not to look down at my wrists, because—although I had done the damage to myself—I’d lived and could no longer bear to see the kind of person I’d become. Because if you’d asked me a year ago if I would ever even think of killing myself, I would have compellingly said no.

I heard him sigh and the sound of the chair being pushed back. “I’m gonna go. There’s someone here to see you.”

I didn’t watch him leave and I didn’t look to the door when I heard it reopen. I was surprised, however, when someone bent over me and cradled me against their chest. I caught a hint of dark blonde curls, plaid flannel, and nothing more. I felt wet warmth seep through the thin fabric of my hospital gown.

“You’re crying.” I said. It seemed that I was unable to form any complex sentences. Before he even spoke, I knew that it would be him.

“Of course I’m crying,” he said, his voice cracking almost as badly as mine. “You tried to kill yourself…”

When I said nothing, he continued.

“I knew you had your problems, Evan. But I never thought you’d go so far as to do that.”

“That’s because you don’t know me.” I murmured. At this, he pulled back, still holding me at arm’s length. He looked me over a moment before pulling the chair close and sitting beside me. He took my hand in his.

“Then let me get to know you.”

For a moment I closed my eyes, preparing myself to let him in fully. What do I have left to lose, I figured. I released a shaky sigh before looking him dead in the eye. “I’m not the same person I used to be.”

“People change. That’s not always a bad thing.” He said with a slight shrug.

“You don’t understand,” I said, “When my parents died, I couldn’t cope. I got addicted to drugs, slipped into depression. I completely shut my brothers out. I’m a bad person.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “You’re a beautiful person. You just have to find a way back to yourself. The old you is still there.”

“But what if he isn’t?” I asked, my voice shaking violently.

Still gripping my hand in his, he leaned forward and whispered fervently, “He is. You just have to trust me on that one.”

I laid my head back on the thin pillow and sighed. Find the old me. It barely seemed possible, but the way I’ve lived for the past year had to change. Scott was right. I had people that loved me. People who hurt to see me like this.

“So,” Caleb said quietly. I could feel his lips on the back of my hand. “What do you say?”

“I’ll try,” I whispered. “That’s all I can ever do.”