Chapter 18
The sink is yellow-- No, no-- not yellow, like it's supposed to be yellow-- but yellow like it's way past due for its centennial cleaning......
How in the hell did I get here?
I look down at the soaked hospital gown clinging to my body. My hair is hanging in dripping strands around my face and I watch a droplet of water cascade from the tip of one of the strands down to splash on the grimy tiled floor. A bolt of thunder cracks outside, and it comes to me like a flash of lightening--Running through the torrential downpour-- finding this little gas station and hiding my body behind the tall counter while I asked the less-than-observant clerk for the key to the bathroom.
Dark clouds..... The splash of raindrops in standing water-- the splash of my bare feet...... The flashes of color of people hiding behind their umbrellas....
That must be how I got here without anyone stopping me.... How I got out of the hospital-- I have no idea.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I still carry the feeling of standing on that ledge-- the freedom-- the fearful exhilaration. The fact I knew I was going to jump-- and being proud of it. Being proud of knowing what I was actually going to do for once. I was going to fly.
And I did. I just decided to do it with my feet on the ground.
I don't know why I decided not to take the quicker way down. It's a blur, but my mind refuses to let it go or bring it to the surface. I just know I was close. So close I stopped breathing or thinking or feeling. So close when I put my foot out, it didn't touch ground.
It's a total blank in my consciousness....
I wonder if this is how AJ felt when Carly drugged him.
Ugh. AJ.... Carly....... I just don't want to think about it. If I let my mind go there-- I'll lose it again.
After all, who needs a life if you can have someone else's?
Not that mine is so tempting anymore.....
I close my eyes a few seconds just to escape reality. I'm not used to it. I'm used to pretending to be living-- fake reality. That's what I had.
I guess this would be considered the rude awakening.
I force my eyes open and numbly reach for the plastic bag at my feet. My name is written neatly on the side just under the General Hospital emblem. I must have grabbed my personal effects bag on my way out.
So nice of the hospital to pack for me....
I pull the clothes out of the bag and freeze. I'd completely forgotten there was a beginning to all this. It just seemed like something that had always been-- you know, like the universe, or respiring beings, or Dick Clark.....
But seeing the pajamas clutched in my hand right now, I'm immediately assaulted with memories of that night-- and a sudden realization.
It's so funny how differently things look later--
I remember it now-- how oddly poetic it was-- how eerily calm. It was like every sadness I've mused on since had caught up to me, and wordlessly invaded me. I didn't know it was happening, I didn't feel anything. But I remember walking into my room like habit and stopping with my finger on the light switch. And for some reason, I decided to leave the lights off-- I don't know why.... I guess maybe I thought it was the romantic in me.... So I slipped into my warmest flannel pajamas and opened my window. The snow was just starting to fall, and the air was so still the flakes seemed to loft longer than usual. The world was that chilling color of blue that only happens every so often and it cast my room with it's somber brightness. That color of blue is mesmerizing.... and so exclusive..... I only have seen it one other time in my life--
Lucky's eyes.
I'm still holding the pajamas in my arms-- a fact that surprises me. And as I start to put them on, I realize I've lost all sensation in my body.
So much like that night-- I had numbly slipped in my bed and curled my body in a ball. I don't know how long I laid on my side staring out that window-- long enough that it would probably freak someone out-- god knows there's plenty of thoughts in my head that would freak anyone out. It didn't matter-- I had given up-- been defeated. I knew it was ridiculous to have my window open on a cold winter night-- but I didn't care. It felt like it was the first time in a long time I could actually breathe..... and I fell, hard-- with only the silent sounds of the winter dark to lull me to sleep.
I turn and look at myself in the cracked bathroom mirror. The green and white plaid pajamas hang off my frame. I've lost weight.
My hair is still wet and stringy, and I run my fingers haphazardly through the mess. I'm not used to my face without make-up, but I think I like it. I already feel more real.
I reach back in my bag and pull out my coat. Someone must have used it to cover me when they carried me from the house because I know I didn't go to bed with it on. I slip it on, and button it up. I still look I've just walked out the 7th ring of hell, but at least I resemble something a little more human. I put on the shoes also in my bag, and send a silent thank you to whoever the person was that decided it wasn't strange to wear flannel pants in public. I wad the plastic bag up into a little ball and shove it deep in the garbage can. Nothing like leaving a piece of evidence that says "Emily Quartermaine was here."...
I don't realize how stuffy and disgusting the bathroom truly was until I step outside. The rain is still coming down hard, and I follow the lead of the other patrons on the street and pull my coat up to cover my head. I don't think I do it to stay dry-- I'm already wet-- but I guess without realizing it, I've found a good way to blend in and disguise myself.
I run in and return the key-- my obedient conscience not allowing me the freedom to just leave. The man behind the counter still doesn't look up from his paper, and I leave with a slight sense of hope. Maybe no one will notice me. Maybe I've lost any presence I used to have....
I don't know where I'm going, so I just start walking-- further away from the hospital. When I get to a desolated area I let the coat fall from my head and I let myself bathe in the storm. As I walk farther, I notice my hands beginning to redden with the cold, and I slip them into my pockets.
And that's when I find my salvation.
I stop immediately and draw my wallet out. I can barely unsnap it with the frozen movements of my body. Andrew Jackson's solemn face greets me, and I match him back with an equally solemn expression. Twenty dollars will not be enough.... I don't know what for-- but I just know it's not enough. I struggle to pinch my fingers for a while, but eventually I manage to dislodge a red plastic card from one of the leather slots.
One of the joys of being a rich bitch-- credit cards.
When Lucky and I went on the run when we were younger--he was amazing. He taught me "the rules" to running-- how not to be caught-- how to survive-- how to struggle through anything...... I wonder if he knew I still remember everything. I can almost hear his voice in my head-- "Don't use credit cards-- they're traceable."
Maybe it is his voice-- Maybe it's him helping me run again.
I look heavenward and ask my silent question-- Then I wait for my response.
Then I start running.
The sink is yellow-- No, no-- not yellow, like it's supposed to be yellow-- but yellow like it's way past due for its centennial cleaning......
How in the hell did I get here?
I look down at the soaked hospital gown clinging to my body. My hair is hanging in dripping strands around my face and I watch a droplet of water cascade from the tip of one of the strands down to splash on the grimy tiled floor. A bolt of thunder cracks outside, and it comes to me like a flash of lightening--Running through the torrential downpour-- finding this little gas station and hiding my body behind the tall counter while I asked the less-than-observant clerk for the key to the bathroom.
Dark clouds..... The splash of raindrops in standing water-- the splash of my bare feet...... The flashes of color of people hiding behind their umbrellas....
That must be how I got here without anyone stopping me.... How I got out of the hospital-- I have no idea.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I still carry the feeling of standing on that ledge-- the freedom-- the fearful exhilaration. The fact I knew I was going to jump-- and being proud of it. Being proud of knowing what I was actually going to do for once. I was going to fly.
And I did. I just decided to do it with my feet on the ground.
I don't know why I decided not to take the quicker way down. It's a blur, but my mind refuses to let it go or bring it to the surface. I just know I was close. So close I stopped breathing or thinking or feeling. So close when I put my foot out, it didn't touch ground.
It's a total blank in my consciousness....
I wonder if this is how AJ felt when Carly drugged him.
Ugh. AJ.... Carly....... I just don't want to think about it. If I let my mind go there-- I'll lose it again.
After all, who needs a life if you can have someone else's?
Not that mine is so tempting anymore.....
I close my eyes a few seconds just to escape reality. I'm not used to it. I'm used to pretending to be living-- fake reality. That's what I had.
I guess this would be considered the rude awakening.
I force my eyes open and numbly reach for the plastic bag at my feet. My name is written neatly on the side just under the General Hospital emblem. I must have grabbed my personal effects bag on my way out.
So nice of the hospital to pack for me....
I pull the clothes out of the bag and freeze. I'd completely forgotten there was a beginning to all this. It just seemed like something that had always been-- you know, like the universe, or respiring beings, or Dick Clark.....
But seeing the pajamas clutched in my hand right now, I'm immediately assaulted with memories of that night-- and a sudden realization.
It's so funny how differently things look later--
I remember it now-- how oddly poetic it was-- how eerily calm. It was like every sadness I've mused on since had caught up to me, and wordlessly invaded me. I didn't know it was happening, I didn't feel anything. But I remember walking into my room like habit and stopping with my finger on the light switch. And for some reason, I decided to leave the lights off-- I don't know why.... I guess maybe I thought it was the romantic in me.... So I slipped into my warmest flannel pajamas and opened my window. The snow was just starting to fall, and the air was so still the flakes seemed to loft longer than usual. The world was that chilling color of blue that only happens every so often and it cast my room with it's somber brightness. That color of blue is mesmerizing.... and so exclusive..... I only have seen it one other time in my life--
Lucky's eyes.
I'm still holding the pajamas in my arms-- a fact that surprises me. And as I start to put them on, I realize I've lost all sensation in my body.
So much like that night-- I had numbly slipped in my bed and curled my body in a ball. I don't know how long I laid on my side staring out that window-- long enough that it would probably freak someone out-- god knows there's plenty of thoughts in my head that would freak anyone out. It didn't matter-- I had given up-- been defeated. I knew it was ridiculous to have my window open on a cold winter night-- but I didn't care. It felt like it was the first time in a long time I could actually breathe..... and I fell, hard-- with only the silent sounds of the winter dark to lull me to sleep.
I turn and look at myself in the cracked bathroom mirror. The green and white plaid pajamas hang off my frame. I've lost weight.
My hair is still wet and stringy, and I run my fingers haphazardly through the mess. I'm not used to my face without make-up, but I think I like it. I already feel more real.
I reach back in my bag and pull out my coat. Someone must have used it to cover me when they carried me from the house because I know I didn't go to bed with it on. I slip it on, and button it up. I still look I've just walked out the 7th ring of hell, but at least I resemble something a little more human. I put on the shoes also in my bag, and send a silent thank you to whoever the person was that decided it wasn't strange to wear flannel pants in public. I wad the plastic bag up into a little ball and shove it deep in the garbage can. Nothing like leaving a piece of evidence that says "Emily Quartermaine was here."...
I don't realize how stuffy and disgusting the bathroom truly was until I step outside. The rain is still coming down hard, and I follow the lead of the other patrons on the street and pull my coat up to cover my head. I don't think I do it to stay dry-- I'm already wet-- but I guess without realizing it, I've found a good way to blend in and disguise myself.
I run in and return the key-- my obedient conscience not allowing me the freedom to just leave. The man behind the counter still doesn't look up from his paper, and I leave with a slight sense of hope. Maybe no one will notice me. Maybe I've lost any presence I used to have....
I don't know where I'm going, so I just start walking-- further away from the hospital. When I get to a desolated area I let the coat fall from my head and I let myself bathe in the storm. As I walk farther, I notice my hands beginning to redden with the cold, and I slip them into my pockets.
And that's when I find my salvation.
I stop immediately and draw my wallet out. I can barely unsnap it with the frozen movements of my body. Andrew Jackson's solemn face greets me, and I match him back with an equally solemn expression. Twenty dollars will not be enough.... I don't know what for-- but I just know it's not enough. I struggle to pinch my fingers for a while, but eventually I manage to dislodge a red plastic card from one of the leather slots.
One of the joys of being a rich bitch-- credit cards.
When Lucky and I went on the run when we were younger--he was amazing. He taught me "the rules" to running-- how not to be caught-- how to survive-- how to struggle through anything...... I wonder if he knew I still remember everything. I can almost hear his voice in my head-- "Don't use credit cards-- they're traceable."
Maybe it is his voice-- Maybe it's him helping me run again.
I look heavenward and ask my silent question-- Then I wait for my response.
Then I start running.