POV: Alex
I stumbled into the hospital room, clutching my hand over my heart, the pain was just too intense. It wouldn't stop throbbing, wouldn't stop screaming in agony. I didn't know what else to do, so I did the only thing I could do.
I closed the bathroom door behind me, finally seeing my real reflection in the mirror. Dark sunken tired eyes with bags and a lifeless posture. I looked down towards my hands, my claws growing back ever so slightly, but they were still sharp.
I ripped off the bandages on my arms, exposing the wounds, two thin lines on each arm. I took my claw and dragged it across my arm horizontally. I didn't want to die, I just wanted the pain to go away, this was the only way I knew how. I did it on the other arm, reopening the scars which weren't fully healed. Then I sat on the floor with my back to the door, feeling the blood rush out of my body. I knew I wasn't going to die but I really wanted to.
The blood dripped onto the floor and I closed my eyes, Jordan's words echoing in my head, I love you . I did love her, but not the way she thought.
"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. Then I laughed, I was never going to leave this hospital. I was going to be stuck in here forever.
I took my phone out of my pocket, hands trembling as the blood rushed out. I kept the door unlocked for a reason. I dialed Dad's number and he picked up immediately. "What's wrong?" he said.
"Dad," I said with tears appearing in my vision. "I need you."
I dropped the phone off to the side, and hung up, waiting for him to come.
It felt like hours of me just sitting on the bathroom floor, the white lights blinding me. There was a nurse's button in there, but at the time it was completely irrelevant, I didn't even see it.
There was a pounding on the bathroom door and I got up, opening it and falling into Dad's arms. "I'm sorry," I whispered. He held me tight, I could hear his heart beating at an alarming rate. I used his shoulder as support as I walked over to the hospital bed, laying down on its scratchy white sheets and firm mattress.
Dad pushed one of the buttons on the hospital bed's remote and sighed, sitting down on the chair and hiding his face with his hands. I just stared at the ceiling wishing I didn't exist, wishing the world would just let me die.
Two nurses calmly walked in, one being a gazelle and the other, a goat. They made their way over to me and I watched as they cleaned the wounds with antiseptic and wrapped fresh bandages around them. One of them brought out a needle and stuck it in my arm, hooking up the all too familiar IV machine to my body. The gazelle pushed a couple of buttons on the monitor, and I felt my eyes drooping, my vision going black.
No! I don't want to sleep!
I tried to rip the IV out, but I couldn't move my body, the power of sleep was overcoming, overbearing. There wasn't anything I could do. So I watched as Dad got up from his chair, thanking the nurses and pulling out his phone. After that, everything went black.
I woke up to a whispered argument, I was still half-asleep, unable to move. But from the tone, the familiarity, it was Mom and Dad. I kept my eyes shut, I wanted to hear what they had to say, even if they're voices were slightly drowned out. I didn't want them to know I was awake, that I was partially conscious.
Mom's voice broke out through Dad's, shattering it into a million pieces. "We need to tell him what he's doing isn't right," she seethed. I pictured Dad raising his arms in submission, surrendering to Mom's accusatory, yet light tone.
She had to know that I knew what I was doing wasn't right. I knew it wasn't the best coping method, but it was the only one I had.
"He knows what he's doing isn't right, but telling him it's wrong isn't going to fix anything," Dad said.
"We have to do something Kevin! We can't just sit here and watch as he cuts his life away!" I could feel my ears twitch from her sudden outburst and their argument ceased. Mom's voice was lower this time, much quieter. "Nothing we've done has fixed him, he looks like a mess, and each day he gets worse. What's stopping him from actually trying to kill himself again?" I felt a hand on my head, softly combing through my fur with their short fingernails. "He's all we have, and this place isn't making him better."
Dad sighed. "Amy, it's only been four days, you can't expect him to just bounce back immediately-"
"It's your fault he's in here in the first place." There was the sound of soft shoes against the tiled floor, and the heavy wooden door closed quietly.
Either way I looked at it, I was making everyone's life worse. Jordan was probably crying in her car because I didn't feel the same way, and Mom was accusing Dad of being the reason why I was even in the hospital. She needed to know that she had a role in this as well, it wasn't just Dad who caused me to do the things I did. She had to know that being in the background for most of my life was one of the reasons why I was even in here. Neither of them were perfect, but at least one of them was trying to better themselves.
I heard Dad sigh again and sit back down on the chair, feeling the fur up my ears. I couldn't help to smile, just a tiny one, hopefully unnoticeable, but there nevertheless. "You're going to get better," he said. "You won't be in here forever, you're going to get through this." When other animals said it, it didn't sound right, like they were just saying it because it was the right thing to do. But when Dad said it, it felt right, it felt like I really was going to overcome the pain in my life.
️ ️ ️
The blinds were forced open and hard sunlight shone in my face, causing me to blink a couple of times. "Good morning!" Dr. Sherman said, her hands on her hips with a tiny smile. "You caused quite the scare yesterday, how are you feeling today?"
I rubbed my head from the oncoming headache, feeling a slight twinge of pain each time I moved my arms. I looked at them to see a deep red seeping through, my mind spinning from the night before, my claws filed down again, much shorter than the last time.
I threw my head back into the pillow, tears surfacing. "It's never going to be over," I said. Dr. Sherman stood off to the side, her eyes low to the ground.
"Nobody said it was going to be easy," she said, walking towards me and sitting down on a chair. "I have to ask, what caused you to do it again?"
I thought back to last night, the dinner Jordan and I had, the conversations we shared, and how she told me she loved me. Maybe that's what caused me to do it. I was angry-no-sad, at myself because I couldn't reciprocate those feelings, even though I desperately wanted to. I wanted to love her-and I did, but not in the way she wanted me to.
I looked towards Dr. Sherman, sitting up in the bed. "Someone who I love, I genuinely love, confessed her feelings to me. But...I don't feel the same way." Guilt made its way into my body, and I wanted to cry again, but I held it back.
"Jordan, right? I believe she was the one who asked me if you could leave your hospital room. Of course I said yes, but now I'm regretting that decision," Dr. Sherman said.
My eyebrows creased and I clenched my fists. "Don't get me wrong, I had fun. I just wish she didn't tell me, maybe the pain would go away." I looked at my arms and turned them over, exposing the bandages. "I think I need new ones." I sighed and closed my eyes. "I guess last night means I'll be here even longer."
Sherman pondered the statement, choosing her words slowly and carefully. "It does mean we'll have to keep a closer observation of you. But no one expects to immediately get better after only being here for a few days."
"But I haven't been here for a few days! I've only been awake for a few days, I don't even know how long I've been in this hospital. I hate it!"
"Alex, I can't help you if you don't talk to me, you need to trust me."
"If you want my trust, then tell them I'm ok, tell them it's ok for me to leave!"
Dr. Sherman sighed and crossed her legs. "You know I can't do that."
"Then what's the point of you being here in the first place!" Dr. Sherman shifted in her seat and looked off to the side. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean it."
"I know you didn't mean it, you're just frustrated, which is good. We want you to feel other emotions than just hating yourself. Anger, sadness, all of them are perfectly valid to experience. But we also want you to feel happiness. We want you to experience it for as long as you can. But I can't help you if you're not willing to try.
"I'm not here to condemn what you did in the bathroom last night or a couple of weeks ago. I'm just here to make sure it doesn't happen again. Whether we put you on medication, or we figure this out without that is ultimately up to you. In your file it said you were on medication before, but it seems that didn't really solve your problems."
"I stopped taking them because they made me feel worse. I was tired 24/7 and I had no motivation to even get up in the morning. The latter was better than what those pills made me feel like," I said through a clenched jaw.
Dr. Sherman grabbed her clipboard, read it over, then placed it back down. "Ok, if you're really willing to solve this problem, we need to talk." I readied my mind for an onslaught of uncomfortable questions, ones that would reveal the true extent of how broken I was. Ones that would make any animal gag in response. But she eased my mind with a simple question. "What's your favorite season?"
"Uh...winter?"
She smiled. "Mine too. Ok." She looked into the air, like she was thinking of ther perfect question to ask. "Who's your best friend?"
"Jordan," I said without any thought. "Wait-Steven...no Jordan." I massaged my head and Dr. Sherman laughed.
"It's ok to have more than one best friend. I have multiple, I like to think of you as my one of my best friends, and Angeline at the front desk-" she leaned in to whisper. "Although she can be very dramatic sometimes, and never invite her to family gatherings, she has no filter."
I chucked at her openness, willing to oblige. "Jordan has a quick temper and is like a house of cards. Steven is much more laid back, but he's also really... physical? I think that's the right word. I'm not the most intimate animal."
"Ok, who's your favorite parent?"
"Are we allowed to have a favorite parent?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?"
I thought back to how Dad was changing into the animal I always wanted him to be and how Mom was in constant worry of me, always changing her personality to accommodate the animals around her. "It would have to be my dad."
Dr. Sherman seemed surprised. "Really? I thought he was the 'worst animal in existence'."
"He used to be, but he's changed a lot. Sometimes I find myself being with him more than anyone else. That's why I called him last night, I didn't know who else to talk to."
"Well that's good, we want you to be able to call someone. I'm glad you did. Although the way you cut yourself last night isnt life threatning, they could still get infected. You never have to be afraid to call the nurses in, or even me, I'm up all day and all night." She chuckled. "I never really leave the hospital."
"Really? Don't you have a family, a place to go home to?"
She looked around the room. "This hospital is my home, the kids I treat are my family. I don't expect you to understand."
But I did understand, I understood what she meant. I kinda thought about it in the way I liked Jordan. She was my family, she was my friend. I did love her, but I don't think I loved her the way she wanted me to love her.
That night when she told me, I didn't know what to say, but I knew I needed to say it back. Because in truth, I did love her. I loved her so much. But is it even possible to love someone and stay friends? Weren't you supposed to date them once you confessed your feelings? Did I even confess my feelings towards her? They weren't there to begin with.
"You look troubled," Dr. Sherman said. "Just say whatever it is."
I sighed and groaned. "I don't even know how to feel. Last night Jordan told me she loved me, but...I don't feel the same way. I said it back though because I didn't know what else to say, but I do love her. Just...not the way she wants me to."
"It's perfectly normal to not feel the same way. Love is a weird emotion, sometimes it is romantic, sexual, or purely platonic. Scientists are still trying to study just exactly what it is."
"I just feel so horrible, because I know she loves me...but I can't share those feelings. It just makes me feel guilty and I hate myself for it. Because what if I won't ever love anyone? What if this is just a way to show that I'll never like anybody?"
Dr. Sherman smiled. "That's for you to find out. Just because you don't love one animal a certain way, doesn't mean you wont like another one."
"But I do love Jordan! I just…"
"Alex, you aren't forced to like her the way she wishes you would. Eventually she'll understand."
"I just don't want her to feel sad...I know what she's been through."
Dr. Sherman sighed and crossed her arms. "She's the animal that found you in the bathroom, huh?"
"...yeah."
"Well I can tell you one thing, she has her own problems to deal with, they have nothing to do with you."
"But they do, she's the one who found me. God knows what she's going through, and I'm too scared to talk to her, to tell her how I feel. I just don't want to hurt her anymore than she already is."
Dr. Sherman rubbed her snout. "Then you should tell her how you feel, keeping it in won't make you feel any better."
I slumped into the bed, the scratchy sheets rubbing against my arms and causing pain. "Ugh! Can we remove these stupid things!? I'm tired of wearing them!" I tried to rip the bandages off, but my claws were too short, too dull. So I used my fangs instead, tearing away the bandages to reveal the scars underneath. Dr. Sherman did nothing to stop me as I stared at my arms and panted. I brushed my fingers across the two lines on each arm and the two horizontal lines. It looked like I was trying to count something using tally marks on my arms.
Dr. Sherman grabbed my left arm and pulled it up to look at the scars. "Well, they were healing. But that's ok, let's keep the bandages on them for now."
"I guess now you're going to file down my fangs right? I mean, I did just rip through the bandages with ease."
Dr. Sherman shook her head. "No, we're not going to file down your teeth, this isn't an asylum. And you need them to eat, so, you're stuck with them."
"I wished you would've said you were going to, maybe would feel better about being a wolf. At least with the filed claws and non-existent teeth, I could go around the world and not hurt anybody."
Dr. Sherman stood up. "Is that what this is all about? All because you're scared to be a wolf?"
"Partly," I said, my tone flat.
Dr. Sherman sighed and pointed at the scars on my arms. "Well, I'll get some nurses to re-bandage that. Once they heal, we can take them off. I need to go, I'll cya tomorrow."
"Why is it you always have to leave when we're finally getting somewhere?"
"Believe me, I wish I didn't have to. But I have other patients, other kids that need me. You just have to be patient, we'll get through this." I watched as her white lab coat faded out of view and I was left alone with my thoughts.
️ ️ ️
Dad got off work and came to visit me, we went to have dinner in the cafeteria of the hospital since I was tired of leaving. As much as I wanted to, I didn't trust myself to leave anymore, I was scared of what I would do if I came back and felt horrible. Would I try to cut myself again? That was the question I tried to avoid everyday.
"Everybody's staring at us," I whispered to Dad. He set down his fork and looked around, everyone looked away. "Nice one."
"I don't understand why they're more scared of me than you, I mean, you're this massive wolf. But every time we go somewhere, they just have to stare."
"They're staring cause it's weird for a deer and a wolf to have dinner together, especially since you're my dad," I said, prodding at my food, which looked more like vegetable mush.
"Hey dad?" I said.
"What's up?"
I shifted my eyes to the side. I felt weird asking him something so personal, but who else did I have? "How did you know you loved Mom?'
Dad raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Like how did you know she was the animal for you?"
He put down his fork and rubbed his chin. "Well, I met her when I was a senior in high school, she was a sophomore. We were friends, had a lot of things in common, and it just kinda went from there. I can't really describe it, why do you ask?"
I waved him off. "Never mind." It was stupid to ask, I didn't even consider his feelings towards it. It wasn't like he knew anything about the situation anyway.
"Come on Alex, just tell me."
"Well, last night Jordan told me she loved me, and I've just been really conflicted about it. I don't know if I love her...or if I don't."
"Like, love her as in, romantic feelings...or…?"
"No! Get your mind out of the gutter!" Dad rolled his eyes and I continued. "I mean, I like her as a friend, possibly love her, but those feelings aren't romantic. I don't like her like that. But I think she likes me like that, and I don't know what to do."
"Well you should probably tell her that you don't like her like that. It might internally destroy her, but she'll get over it."
"But that's the thing! I don't want to hurt her, I just want her to love somebody else...I'm not good enough."
"I'm confused, do you like her?"
"No, I don't."
"Then why are you worrying about it?"
"I...I don't know how to explain it. That's why I asked you."
"Well I can't really help you if you can't explain it. Sure, I sorta get where you're coming from. You like her as a friend, and you love her as a friend, total normal emotions. But you don't know if those feelings are romantic or not since she seems to like you romantically. Am I right?"
"Spot-on," I said with a sigh.
"Well you're not going to get anywhere if you don't tell her how you feel. Besides, you may find out you don't like girls at all, and guys are more your style." My ears flattened and Dad laughed. "There's nothing wrong with liking guys, doesn't matter to me."
Well, there is one.