Chapter 5
Sitting on the couch at my apartment, I recap and gather my thoughts. It was a horrible day at the hospital. Too many people died today. As much as we all tried to help, they still lost their lives. Even though I know it's not my fault, I can't help but feel guilty about losing patients. This day has been so long and so painful.
I light up a cigarette and puff, soon blowing the smoke out afterwards. A nice hot bath would certainly help me cope with everything, so I get up from the couch and shuffle off to the bathroom. My hands reach for the faucet and I turn the knob to hot and let the water run. After a few minutes of watching the water fill the tub, my clothes are thrown to the floor and I enter the warm bath.
I sit in the warmth just thinking, about everything and anything. My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the phone in the next room. I decide I am too comfortable to pick it up so I let the answering machine get it.
"Hey, I'm not here right now so leave a message."
"Hi, Susan, it's Carter. Just wanted to say 'Hey' and see how you're doing, but I guess you're not home. Well, talk to you soon. Bye." He sounded a bit disappointed that I wasn't there to talk to him. He is being so sweet to me; I think he's the only one who knows exactly what I'm going through right now.
I lost Susie, my niece, who was just like my own. He lost his brother when he was young. It's not the same, but when comparing losing two loved ones, it is. John needed to be strong for his mother, and I need to be strong for everybody else. But eventually he lost his strength, and so am I.
I notice the glistening of the razor sitting on the bathtub ledge. One swipe and it would all be over. No more worrying. No more stress. No more tears. No more pain. It is sitting there waiting for me to pick it up, almost screaming at me, and that's exactly what I did.
The grooves of the razor fit so perfectly in my hand, as if it were made for me. Thoughts of Susie, Chloe, and John, entered my mind. What would they think of me if I performed this deadly act? Susie would never get to know her aunt. Chloe, what would she do? If she knew her accomplished sister did this, what would she become? Would Carter think it was his fault I did it? John....I can't leave him, not now.
The razor splashes into the water from the force of my throw. I quickly dry myself off and unplug the stopper. What was I thinking? Why was I thinking like this? God, I need an answer.
Still wrapped in my towel, I walk over to the answering machine and press the button to retrieve the messages. I hear John's voice and I feel calm, for the first time since breakfast. He is what I need. I promised myself that he was going to be the one to help me through this, but I have seemed to forget about that. With the tears steadily flowing down my cheeks, I pick up the phone and dial John's number.
"Hello?"
"Carter, can you come over? I really need someone to talk to, to just be here with me." It was too difficult trying to hold back the sobs.
"Yeah, sure, Susan. I'll be right over."
"Thank you, John."
"Yeah, stay right there. I'll be there in a few minutes."
I was relieved to find that he would be coming over, at least I would soon have his shoulder to cry on. But can I tell him what I had just tried to do? Will I be able to tell him that he needs to be my strength?
Searching through my drawers I find an old pair of sweats and quickly put them on. After pacing for a few minutes I hear a knock at the door. I run towards the sound and turn the knob to find a concerned John Carter standing before me.
Sitting on the couch at my apartment, I recap and gather my thoughts. It was a horrible day at the hospital. Too many people died today. As much as we all tried to help, they still lost their lives. Even though I know it's not my fault, I can't help but feel guilty about losing patients. This day has been so long and so painful.
I light up a cigarette and puff, soon blowing the smoke out afterwards. A nice hot bath would certainly help me cope with everything, so I get up from the couch and shuffle off to the bathroom. My hands reach for the faucet and I turn the knob to hot and let the water run. After a few minutes of watching the water fill the tub, my clothes are thrown to the floor and I enter the warm bath.
I sit in the warmth just thinking, about everything and anything. My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the phone in the next room. I decide I am too comfortable to pick it up so I let the answering machine get it.
"Hey, I'm not here right now so leave a message."
"Hi, Susan, it's Carter. Just wanted to say 'Hey' and see how you're doing, but I guess you're not home. Well, talk to you soon. Bye." He sounded a bit disappointed that I wasn't there to talk to him. He is being so sweet to me; I think he's the only one who knows exactly what I'm going through right now.
I lost Susie, my niece, who was just like my own. He lost his brother when he was young. It's not the same, but when comparing losing two loved ones, it is. John needed to be strong for his mother, and I need to be strong for everybody else. But eventually he lost his strength, and so am I.
I notice the glistening of the razor sitting on the bathtub ledge. One swipe and it would all be over. No more worrying. No more stress. No more tears. No more pain. It is sitting there waiting for me to pick it up, almost screaming at me, and that's exactly what I did.
The grooves of the razor fit so perfectly in my hand, as if it were made for me. Thoughts of Susie, Chloe, and John, entered my mind. What would they think of me if I performed this deadly act? Susie would never get to know her aunt. Chloe, what would she do? If she knew her accomplished sister did this, what would she become? Would Carter think it was his fault I did it? John....I can't leave him, not now.
The razor splashes into the water from the force of my throw. I quickly dry myself off and unplug the stopper. What was I thinking? Why was I thinking like this? God, I need an answer.
Still wrapped in my towel, I walk over to the answering machine and press the button to retrieve the messages. I hear John's voice and I feel calm, for the first time since breakfast. He is what I need. I promised myself that he was going to be the one to help me through this, but I have seemed to forget about that. With the tears steadily flowing down my cheeks, I pick up the phone and dial John's number.
"Hello?"
"Carter, can you come over? I really need someone to talk to, to just be here with me." It was too difficult trying to hold back the sobs.
"Yeah, sure, Susan. I'll be right over."
"Thank you, John."
"Yeah, stay right there. I'll be there in a few minutes."
I was relieved to find that he would be coming over, at least I would soon have his shoulder to cry on. But can I tell him what I had just tried to do? Will I be able to tell him that he needs to be my strength?
Searching through my drawers I find an old pair of sweats and quickly put them on. After pacing for a few minutes I hear a knock at the door. I run towards the sound and turn the knob to find a concerned John Carter standing before me.