The Girl With the Half Beating Heart

Light shines into Alex’s room, he stretches, and rolls over. He glances down at his arms, which were both wrapped in bandages, with an IV in his hand. After a few minutes of poking at his hand, he looks around his room. Its white, a sickly pale white, with a small TV that’s currently off. He’s alone in his room, but his mother’s purse is on a table next to him, so he knows she’s still here. This takes him by surprise, because even though she seemed to care a lot the night before, she usually doesn’t. But how bad would it look if your son tried to kill himself, and you weren’t in the hospital when he woke up? Pretty bad.
He’s pretty upset, since he has failed, once again. He fails at everything else in life, but he couldn’t even kill himself. The thing he holds in his own hands, a possession of his that nobody can have, nor ever will, he doesn’t even have control of. He groans, and puts his pillow over his face. Steps emerge into the room, and he peeks out of slightly. Once he sees who it is, he removes the pillow from his face.
“Dr. Stroud, my favorite.” He says weakly with a smile, and she smiles in return.
“Alexander. Sadly, we meet again.” She says softly in her British accent, sitting on the side of his bed. “And call me Laurel, please.” She reaches out and brushes his hand, and he grabs it. Alex knew Dr. Stroud, since he came to the hospital more than the usual person. So he took a liking to her. While she was very pretty to him, he really looked up to her in an older sister kind of way. She wasn’t too much older than him, she was about 26, with brown hair that flowed down her back, soft green eyes, and a subtle sweet voice that he always found soothing.
“Well will you call me Alex?” He asks with a smirk, to which she chuckles.
“Yes, I’ll call you Alex.” She replies, smiling widely.
“All right then, Laurel.” He smiles back, shutting his eyes, like a six year old.
“Where’s your mom?” She questions, pointing toward her open purse on the side table. Alex shrugs in response, and pushes some of his fringe out of his eyes. “Alex, she loves you, you know…” She whispers, and Alex rolls his eyes.
“Sure she does.” He says blankly, glancing across the room. Laurel starts to speak again, but she closes her mouth, rethinking her statement.
“We almost lost you last night…” She begins quietly, and Alex stares down at his hand again. “I’m glad we didn’t.” She says louder now, giving Alex a weak smile. Alex blinks repeatedly, then yawns. “Alex, do you want to talk-” Laurel starts to ask, only to be cut off quickly by Alex.
“No.” He resists eye contact.
“Alex, c’mon don’t shut me out.” She pleads as she reaches out for his hand again. Only this time, he pulls his back. He crosses his arms and glances out of the window, clearly ignoring her. “Alex please, I just want to understand-” Alex cut her off again, sitting up straight in his bed.
“You want to understand? How could you understand? Did your father, the only person you looked up to in life, the man that taught you everything you know, the man you wanted to be, walk out on you when you were 13? Did he go out for a carton of eggs and never come back too? And did the only other person you loved as much as your dad, your brother, literally drink himself to death? And after your father left, and your brother died, did your mom become a drunk too? Even though your fucking brother died from alcohol, did she still become a drunk anyway? And did she take out her feelings of hatred, anger, and sadness on you? Did she abuse you? Then did it get so bad, to the point where she stopped caring at all? Where if you stayed out for six days, without a call or text, nothing, she didn't even give you a single fucking call to see if you're still alive? And when you finally got home, instead of asking where you've been, or if you're okay, she asks if you bought her more fucking booze? Can you relate, Laurel? Please tell me, I’m dying to know if you can understand.” He intones loudly. He lays back down, crosses his arms again, and looks back out of the window. Laurel sits in shock, totally taken aback by what just came out of Alex’s mouth. She knew he had some problems, but she didn’t know the extent of them.
“I’m, I’m so sorry Alex, really. I didn’t, I didn’t know…” She mumbles, her eyes darting from the bed to meet Alex, who is still looking out of the window. "Maybe something happened to him, maybe," She begins, but Alex cuts her off.
"No, nothing happened. He left me, Laurel. He left us. He's still alive, and he has a new family, a son and a daughter he loves more than he could ever love me." Alex mumbles, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes again.
"I, I'm sorry Alex. Its not your fault, you have to know that." She whispers, her green eyes looking at him sympathetically. He pushes her away, obviously not agreeing with her statement, but not replying to it either.
“Alex, can I ask you one thing? Just one more thing, and I promise I’ll be out of your hair.” She says quietly, hoping that he lets her. He looks back to her, ushering his eyebrows to tell her to go ahead. She sighs.
“Okay, well I remember last night, you said some, things. Do you, do you remember those things?” She questions, biting her lip. Alex furrows his brows, and thinks back to last night. All he can remember is sitting on the bathroom floor. Feeling a sharp, tingling pain which after a while, began to feel good, and sitting in a puddle. He can’t remember the rest, so he figured he slept through it all.
“No…” He answers uneasily, scratching the back of his neck.
“Oh. You said you wanted to die, Alex. Is that true?” Her soft eden colored eyes pierce into Alex, and he begins to play with the needle in his hand again. He may not remember what he said last night, but he does remember the motive of it. He did infact want to die.
“Alex, is that why, is that why you did it vertically this time?” Laurel whispers, looking down to Alex’s wrists. He does the same, and runs his finger along the bandages. The other time he was here for harming himself, he did it horizontally. And whenever he did do that, he honestly didn’t want to die. He just went a little too deep. But this time, he had different intentions. He didn’t want to leave that bathroom. So he went deep, vertically, and simply laid down and went to sleep.
He glances down, and flutters his eyes. All of a sudden, his face becomes wet. He’s crying.
“Alex,” Laurel whispers, and pulls him in for a hug. He hugs her back, and nuzzles into her shoulder. “It’s okay.” She cooes, running her finger tip down his back.
“It’s not okay! I’m not okay.” He nearly screams through sobs, and Laurel’s eyes widen in shock. He breathes in, and calms down. “It’s just, it’s so hard Laurel. I can’t, I can’t do it anymore.” He sniffles, clinging onto her even tighter.
“I know, and I’m so sorry. But I’m here for you, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You may not be okay now, but I’ll make sure to it that you are sooner or later. I’m not going anywhere.” She says in a hushed tone. He lets go and looks up at her behind tear stained eyes, his lower lip trembling.
“Thank you.” He whispers, and she smiles at him.
The sound of foot steps nearing the room interrupts them. Alex’s eyes go wide.
“Don’t leave me here with her. Please.” He whispers, and Laurel nods. She’s not sure how she’s gonna get him out of there, but she knows she has to. Its the least she can do for him. She gets off of his bed, smoothing out her clothes. Alex sits back, and wipes the little bit of tears left from his eyes. Alex’s mother steps in the room, and Laurel smiles at her. She smiles back faintly, and goes sits in the chair next to Alex’s bedside.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Laurel Stroud.” She says cheerfully, putting her hand out for a handshake.
“Isobel.” She mumbles, looking at Laurel’s hand as if it were painted in toxins. She awkwardly pulls her hand back, and rubs her neck.
“I can tell by your accent you’re English too,” She says with a smile, to which Isobel continues to stare at her as if she was a psychopath. “What part are you from? I’m from the east, Cambridgeshire.” She’s trying so hard to be nice, but Isobel isn’t really trying at all.
“Me too, Essex.” She says quietly, taking a sip from the coffee cup she’s holding.
“Oh lovely!” She chimes with a bright smile, and Isobel widens her eyes as she takes another sip. Laurel clears her throat. “I was just talking to Alexander, and making sure he was okay.” She says as she gestures to Alex, who gives his mother a slight smile.
“Hey Alex, you alright?” Isobel asks, using her best motherly tone. Alex can tell she’s faking it, but he nods. “Good.” She says with a smile, then looks back to Laurel, who realizes she still has to get Alex out of here. She comes up with something, its pathetic, but it should work.
“Sorry to steal him away from you, but its suggested that he takes a walk around, just to make sure he’s alright.” She says as she bites her lip, glancing toward Alex.
“Uh, okay… sure. I just walked to hell and back just to get this coffee, so I’ll stay here.” She says with a nod, and takes a sip again. Laurel smiles, then walks back to Alex. She helps him out of bed, and he stands up. He adjusts one his bandages, and looks to Laurel. He’s still getting fluids from his IV, so he has to take the stand with him. He looks back at his mom, who’s playing with her phone. Laurel holds out an arm, he takes it, and they leave the room.
“Thank you so much.” Alex says with a smile, and Laurel shakes her head.
“No problem,” She returns his smile, and they walk to the elevator. “Where do you wanna go?” She asks, and Alex shrugs.
“Anywhere but here.” He says quietly, and she nods. The doors open, and the both step inside. Alex looks at all the buttons, floor one to floor six. He’s currently on floor four, which is the psychiatric floor. Most people who try to commit suicide usually end up there. He presses the button for floor three, and they go down. “Whats on the third floor?” He asks.
“Heart patients.” Laurel replies quietly, and they both go down, listening to elevator music.