Landfill

A doctor had found me curled up and sobbing in the morgue. He had carried me back upstairs and I was evaluated after I finished crying. I wasn't crazy, I was fucked up and I was mourning. The doctors said they wanted to know if I was going to kill myself.

"No," I answered, "I just miss my boyfriend. I'm not going to kill myself."

The doctors still weren't sure, so I was to stay for another two days. My parents had come and visited, the next morning, they too wondered if I was going to kill myself. They didn't come out and say it, but the looks they had given, I knew it.

My dad was in the room with me while my mom went and got coffee for us. My dad sat beside me, soothing my aching back; it was bruised from the fall to the floor.

"Dad," I said softly as he continuously rubbed my back, "I'm not going to take my life."

"I know." He spoke unconvincingly.

"No, you think I am. I'm not, I promise. I...miss Ryan, that's all. I'll live, I've got to. I'm just mourning."

My dad looked at me, deep into my eyes and then took hold of my hands. Without my mom in the room, it was intense; "I'm so sorry, Nikki."

Tears swelled up, stinging my nasal cavity and my eyes. "I think it's all my fault," I mumbled. "I...I should've let him stay with me instead of pushing him away--"

My dad had shut me up by wrapping his arms around me and shushing me. I could barely hear the words he began to speak, my sobs were catastrophic in my ears, in my throat and chest. I didn't know what to do but cry; I haven't cried this much since I was a little girl.

"Nikki Darling," I heard my mom's voice as my sobs turned into soft whimpers against my dad's chest. "You should rest, honey."

I slowly inched back, my dad's arms retracted gently, and pulled the new warmth blanket over my chest. He kissed my forehead, my mom pet my head, pushing my hair over out of my eyes; "We love you, Darling," she whispered.

"I love you guys too." My voice was thick.

"We'll help you through this; through it all, we promise." My mom assured and kissed my temple. "Anything you need, we'll be right here."

My chest was tight with emotion and it was like I could barely breathe. I laid back and let my vision blur with wet tears, my lips trembling as I continued to cry. I swallowed all I could before my tears and sobs brought me back into a dark sleep.


The nightmares were probably the worst thing about fading from the world. I stayed up, I hated the darkness, the fair sight of Ryan taking his last breaths and the warmth of his hand in mine. I could actually feel the muscles and bones in his hand loosen and fall limp in my palm.

In my sleep I wasn't safe or secure. I stayed awake and managed to think about something more than this tragedy. I got some paper and a pencil from a nurse so I could write. I wrote a lot, a continuous step towards my unconventional love story. Well, it's unconventional because it's not about murder or gore; there's happiness and love and all the things I had experienced.

I had written feverishly in my lonely hospital room until the pencil was down to the easer. My mom had brought me my old laptop so I could transfer it all. I had written nearly 15 papers in a spiral bound, lined notebook, on the front and back. Upon reading it all, I hadn't felt exhausted until I got to the end of those 15 pages and hadn't gotten much of a novel. There was no ending just yet, I got a part that I stole from my life. The moment Ryan had brought Jimmy home; only in the story it's a tropical bird with a blue coat, yellow, orange and blossom feathers beneath it; the chest was a warmth of blossom. The characters, whom I was unsure to name, were going to name the bird, but I fell flat with names.

I set the notebook on my bedside table and fell back against my flat hospital pillow; my whole world was hospital now -as of now. It was evening, and my parents had already come and left; but my mom would be back to sneak me white chocolate covered pretzels. So, I was surprised when the door to my room opened; I sat up, looking over, "Who is it?"

I smiled when I saw Elaine's pink hair appear before her face did. She waved as she came in, "I come baring mail for you."

"Mail?" I asked. "My parents are taking care of that stuff."

"No, this was sent to your old apartment by mistake and the landlord came over and gave them to me." Elaine didn't have the vibe of feeling sorry for me like the nurses did. "These are from a director and Molly."

Elaine sat beside me and handed me thick envelopes. I saw the name Shane Valdez and Molly Pollard; I think they were contracts; "My mom already phoned Molly."

Elaine gave a small nod, "How are you, girly? I know you've heard it a billion times, so I won't say sorry."

"You don't need to say it anyway, E."

"What's the damage?" She asked.

I showed her the bandage on my neck; "A nick. That's all."

"War wounds," she smiled, "Wicked."

I loved how easy she made this; she cares, but she didn't want it to be depressing. Elaine's brain counters things different than mine does; she's experience so much and I'm new to most of these feelings. She knows so much and knows how to handle this, plus she knows me; she knows that she could help me through grieving in a positive way.

"When do you get outta here?" Elaine asked.

"Less than a week." I told her.

"Is the food good?" She asked with a small grimace.

"Kind of, but you know me."

She laughed, "That means it's terrible. Wait until you're outta here, I'm gonna cook you some good food."

"Thanks, E."

"Don't mention it. I'm gonna tell Lisa to come see ya. She's been busy, though, she's painting a moral in this guy's house for his little girl."

Elaine went on and talk to me well till I fell asleep. She left me a note, and told me to call her and to take care of myself, she'd see me soon. I appreciated her visit, I know it must've taken her forever to get here, so if reimburse her for it.

Aside from appreciating the visits, it was nice to have distractions. I don't think m heart could take being alone for too long. Even sharing a hospital room was a bit sane for me, but I was alone now with just my laptop, a notebook and a small, sharpened pencil.