Perfect Place – Part 4

Hey, Is anybody home?

Has anybody wasted tears on the loneliness

That everyone becomes…

            "Is Anybody Home", Our Lady Peace

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M I N S K    Republic of Belarus

The new patient was quiet. Dr. Volkonov said he was suffering from Post-Traumatic, but Sissi knew different. The man with the green eyes was just quiet. He was also sad. It wasn't like the patients with clinical depression who wandered around with their memories by their sides. Sissi knew better. He had lost something. Something very important, and it showed. He was empty.

She watched as he lay, curled in a fetal position on the floor of the stark white solitary confinement room. He had been allowed to walk around like many of the other patients until his violent outburst yesterday. No one knew what sparked it. Dr. Volkonov had been in session with him when he got up and breaking his long silence, grabbed the psychiatrist, shoving him up against the wall. Uri and Georgy rushed in and restrained him before any real harm could be done. Dr. Volkonov sedated him and he was placed in solitary.

Sissi felt something for this man. It wasn't quite pity or sympathy, but something in between. She had never experienced anything like what he must have gone through, but she felt connected to him in some way.

Mikhail, they called him, was mumbling. He did this often, not really speaking, just forming the words. Sissi leaned forward, trying to discern what he was saying. Something like 'go' and 'run', but she couldn't be sure. But it was in English. Sissi knew that much.

It wasn't unusual to have English-speaking patients. During the Cold War, when Belarus had been a part of the Soviet Union, the hospital had held many patients who spoke English. Many who said they were Americans. They thought they were spies, but it was just schizophrenia.

Sissi shifted her weight from one foot to another. She'd already taken too long. All she had to do was give Mikhail his meds and then she could go on her break. She wanted a break badly. She's been on duty for four hours without anything to eat or drink. She longed for a soda from the new vending machine in the employee lounge. Sighing, she stepped forward, hypodermic in hand.

She paused. As a child, she'd hated getting shots. Hell, they terrified her. She always hated giving them to her patients. She was a nurse, she was supposed to make people better, not hurt them. She took a breath and stood next to him.

She had the hypo poised, ready to prick when he grabbed her wrist in a tight grip. She gasped and dropped the needle.  His emerald eyes bored into her blue ones, transferring a multitude of thoughts and feelings. Eternity passed in a millisecond. She didn't know why she didn't reach for the panic button.

Finally, he spoke.

"Help me."

//end part four

A/N: Thanks to Karen on this one, who told me it was good just the way it was.