‹ Prequel: So New
Misconstrued
Chapter Three
I couldn’t decide which leg to cross over the other as I sat at a table out the back of my mother’s friend’s place, unfathomably uncomfortable. I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was that was on my mind. Perhaps it had been the wine, or maybe the fags I’d forgotten. My mother smiled at me from across the table and I returned it, an automatic response that seemingly only she could trigger, and I got up to use the bathroom. I needed a break. I was sure more than one of the women there knew what I’d put my mother through and didn’t think I deserved forgiveness. I knew I didn’t.
I had to use the walls of the hallway to keep myself standing as I went, that familiar feeling of too much too soon boiling up from my gut and threatening to burst out at any moment. I managed to contain it, though, and it sunk straight into my head. I laughed, to myself, and tried to stop myself from thinking. I couldn’t go there. Not now.
It had been too late, however. My mind had been forgotten in favour of my mood and as I stumbled out of the bathroom with something in my hand, I couldn’t be sure what I might do or say in the next moment. I could see people, like shadows, as they dodged me and slid away. I held the razor up to my arm and a little of the pain got through to my conscious self. I tripped, or did I jump, into the pool a moment later, still laughing to myself until my eyes would no longer open. I wasn’t in the water. I could feel a breeze on my skin. Someone was screaming at me, slapping me, but I couldn’t open my eyes.
“Gerard?” My eyes lifted, just barely, from the place I’d been staring at on the floor. They fell onto scuffed black boots that looked loose and uncomfortable without the laces in them. At least it wasn’t my mother. My eyes continued their journey upwards and found my neighbour, Jane, with a box of my things in her arms.
“Your mother did explain… didn’t she?” She must have sensed the confusion I was faced with by seeing her there.
“She hasn’t visited me here whilst I’ve been conscious. I wouldn’t blame her.”
“Oh.” She was silent for a moment, then came over to place the box at the end of my bed.
“She was going through your apartment for clothes and things you’d need here… and she was having a hard time. I tried to tell her we hardly knew one another but she was just so upset… I hope you don’t mind that I went through your things for her…”
“No.” There wasn’t much that bothered me on a daily basis anymore. I was fast to learn that if anything did, it would be best to stay quiet about it. I wanted to get out of here. I had to get out. Every other time I’d been released by now. The box was staring at me from across the room as if to say something. This meant a change. Change like that was not good.
“Well, I’ll be off then.” Jane left the room, and I watched through the window in the door as she was escorted down the hallway by two nurses. She took a quick glance back at me as I stood staring, and I wondered what I looked like through that frame. My hair was unkempt, and I hadn’t shaved since the day of the incident. I was dressed in pyjamas and turning my head, I sighed as I realised all she’d brought for me were more pyjamas. It was the dress code and I already hated it. I hadn’t been in here long enough in the past for it to have bothered me. I knew it would this time. There was nothing I liked about the thought of walking around in Batman pyjamas. In front of people. Of course when I was at home, pyjamas were pretty much all I wore. I never entertained these days and nobody came over for the odd visit so it never seemed to be a problem. In frustration I threw the box with all my things to the floor, scattering my clothes and bits and pieces about the floor. I might have cried. I wanted to, but the tears just wouldn’t come out.
I had to use the walls of the hallway to keep myself standing as I went, that familiar feeling of too much too soon boiling up from my gut and threatening to burst out at any moment. I managed to contain it, though, and it sunk straight into my head. I laughed, to myself, and tried to stop myself from thinking. I couldn’t go there. Not now.
It had been too late, however. My mind had been forgotten in favour of my mood and as I stumbled out of the bathroom with something in my hand, I couldn’t be sure what I might do or say in the next moment. I could see people, like shadows, as they dodged me and slid away. I held the razor up to my arm and a little of the pain got through to my conscious self. I tripped, or did I jump, into the pool a moment later, still laughing to myself until my eyes would no longer open. I wasn’t in the water. I could feel a breeze on my skin. Someone was screaming at me, slapping me, but I couldn’t open my eyes.
“Gerard?” My eyes lifted, just barely, from the place I’d been staring at on the floor. They fell onto scuffed black boots that looked loose and uncomfortable without the laces in them. At least it wasn’t my mother. My eyes continued their journey upwards and found my neighbour, Jane, with a box of my things in her arms.
“Your mother did explain… didn’t she?” She must have sensed the confusion I was faced with by seeing her there.
“She hasn’t visited me here whilst I’ve been conscious. I wouldn’t blame her.”
“Oh.” She was silent for a moment, then came over to place the box at the end of my bed.
“She was going through your apartment for clothes and things you’d need here… and she was having a hard time. I tried to tell her we hardly knew one another but she was just so upset… I hope you don’t mind that I went through your things for her…”
“No.” There wasn’t much that bothered me on a daily basis anymore. I was fast to learn that if anything did, it would be best to stay quiet about it. I wanted to get out of here. I had to get out. Every other time I’d been released by now. The box was staring at me from across the room as if to say something. This meant a change. Change like that was not good.
“Well, I’ll be off then.” Jane left the room, and I watched through the window in the door as she was escorted down the hallway by two nurses. She took a quick glance back at me as I stood staring, and I wondered what I looked like through that frame. My hair was unkempt, and I hadn’t shaved since the day of the incident. I was dressed in pyjamas and turning my head, I sighed as I realised all she’d brought for me were more pyjamas. It was the dress code and I already hated it. I hadn’t been in here long enough in the past for it to have bothered me. I knew it would this time. There was nothing I liked about the thought of walking around in Batman pyjamas. In front of people. Of course when I was at home, pyjamas were pretty much all I wore. I never entertained these days and nobody came over for the odd visit so it never seemed to be a problem. In frustration I threw the box with all my things to the floor, scattering my clothes and bits and pieces about the floor. I might have cried. I wanted to, but the tears just wouldn’t come out.