I guess you're the only one
that nobody changes
guess you're the only one
left standing when everything else goes down
you're still the only one
who will never change faces
I guess you're the only one
left standing when everything else goes down
When his room door was opened a second time it took Jack all of his will power to stay seated and not run to it in a mad dash. He knew it was Jane, she would tap the door twice before she entered, it was her trademark. Finally, she was here. He was tired, it was getting late and his body still wasn't used to going through a whole day without something to help; making him sleepy after a while.
Still, he sat upright and quickly rubbed his eyes. He tried to tell himself he didn't care if she had the damn letters or not, but he did. He'd spent the whole afternoon analyzing what it would mean if Kim had written him, and what it would mean if she hadn't. He was still fighting the urge to get his hopes up, he was overly cautious of having them slammed back down again.
Jane pulled the chair out from his desk and sat on it backwards so she was facing him. She looked exhausted, he thought, feeling guilty for being so angry that she was late.
"I am so sorry Jack," she said sounding exasperated, "I had a major problem with a patient."
He gave her a quizzical look curious but not as interested as he was with the opened envelope in her hand.
"Mr. Beasley flipped out, it took us an hour to get him under control, another to fix the damage he'd done to himself. Then we had to submit a report immediately. I really am sorry it just got out of control."
"Its okay," he said softly, all his anger had gone. She did have more important things to do than help him, he thought, and he really was okay. Or at least he would be, once he found out what was in the damn letter.
"Well its no excuse I shouldn't have forgotten about you." She spoke sincerely, although he was trying to downplay the wait she could see the anticipation he was trying to hide. He hadn't realised he was sweating heavily and breathing loudly; he couldn't wait any longer, she knew.
She handed the brown package to him and tapped him gently on the knee, "you want me to stay with you while you read?"
He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head, telling her he would be fine. He was silently glad she hadn't given anything away about its contents. She nodded before telling him where he could find her if he wanted to talk afterwards, so thoughtful, he thought as she left.
He followed her to the door and yawned as he turned the poor excuse of a lock. For a second he wondered if he should wait until morning when he would be more alert to read. He laughed to himself as the thought occurred, he knew it was an empty threat, he had no intentions of leaving the mail undisturbed even longer than he already had.
He sat propped up against the headboard with the three white fluffy pillows as he ran his fingers along the edge of the crisp paper. He was savouring the moment but he felt a pang of fear when he linked his waiting now to how he used to wait with the needle, just a second or two before pure bliss… He shook his head and wiled the thoughts away, surely he should stop making the connections with his heroin use as his desire for it ebbed away?
He was confused and knew he needed to talk to a doctor or Jane, but not right now, he thought, there were more pressing matters needing his attention. As he lifted the envelope us and tipped it upside down as to empty its contents, he couldn't help but feel as though he was holding his life in his hands; or at least the chance of him ever having one again.
Where you all gone? Anyone reading this here!
I'm not very confident about this so please give me your thoughts!