It took a short ferry ride and two bus rides for me to get all the way up to Middleton, to the closest hospital from Annapolis Royal, the Soldiers Memorial Hospital.
The waiting room was fairly empty, but it still had this cold feeling around it, it wasn't a frightening feeling, it was just, empty. Although this lack of emotion wasn't such a bad thing, every other place I had been or person I had seen had seemed like it was wanted to hurt me. I was terrified of anything that could move. I had dark purple bruises all along my arms and stomach, he loved to fling me into things, then blame me for it breaking, and then hurt me some more. It was a never ending cycle. There would be hell to pay when I get back for leaving. I just hope today doesn't slip away; I need a chance to breath before I head back there
"Eleanor Nash?" I jumped at the sound of my name. I really had to stop doing that, it looked suspicious. I stood up and followed the owner of the voice, a short girl in her late twenties with dark purple scrubs on. She looked me over and smiled weakly at me and led me to a small room that was painted with fresh light yellow paint. I sat down on a small wooden chair in the far corner of the room.
"Just wait here, Dr. Pirelli will be with you shortly." Then she calmly walked out of the room and down the hall.
I didn't have a very long time to come up with a convincing lie because the wooden door opened silently, as the tall Caucasian doctor walked in the room only two minutes later.
"Eleanor Nash," he said as he pushed his horn rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, "you are here because you have a request for a prescription for a strong pain reliever. Is that correct?"
Cuts were one thing; they gave me that quick release I needed in time of emotional confusion and pain. Bruises, on the other hand, lasted for a long time and left my body sore and stiff.
"Yes this is correct." Please no more question sir, I really need to be going soon. And if I am to come back soon I won't only be needing pills.
"May I ask why? It's protocol, I can't just give you the drugs, you could be a drug seeking addict after all." He asked this as he looked me over for the first time since he entered the room. I decided on the smallest bruise on my wrist would be the best one to show him. His eyebrows rose at its very dark and uncared for state.
"It was a fishing boat accident." I quickly justified, "My boyfriend, he's a fisherman and I fell off his boat and got tangled in the net. I was unconscious for at least a few minutes after he rescued me from the water. We are pretty poor so I had to come alone because he had to work today…" I was rambling, and that was the probably the worst excuse I had ever come up with for any unexplained afflictions, but he seemed to fall for it.
"Fine, I am writing you a prescription for vicodin. Only one pill a day, until those bruises heal that is, then you are not to use them anymore. These pills can become quite addictive." He adjusted his glasses one more time and wrote out the prescription.
"Thank you." Really, you have no idea how you have helped me. And I am truly sorry about stealing all those prescription papers from you on my way out, but once these bruises heal there will be countless others that have taken their places.
The ride home seemed to take so much longer, not that I was complaining. Any diversion from the inevitable is welcome right now. Then again, the sooner I get home, the less severe the beating will be. For rest of the way home I watched the lights of passing cities pass by, and when I was on the ferry I was the ducks that bobbed in and out of the water in searching for food. It was so interesting that these very complex creatures could live such simple lives, no complications, no drama.
The lights were on inside the house and from the window on the side of the house I could see Jarrett inside sitting in his faded blue recliner, staring into the TV, drunk as ever. A small glint of metal in the corner of my eye distracted me from the sight before me for a second. As I turned around, I could see a small wrench laying by the tire of Jarrett's beloved beat up old pick-up. I went over and picked it up I figured it must have been from the new mechanic when he fixed up the truck. Well, a half an hour or so won't hurt too much more I guess.
"Hello?" I knocked on the closed white door. Through the small window on the door I could see a man with his back towards me working feverishly on something. He jumped at the sound of someone's voice.
"We're closed." He yelled through the glass and wood that separated us, and continued fiddling with a front end of a car. His voice sounded strangely familiar, but I couldn't place it with a face.
"No, it's just you left this wrench at my house." I shouted back.
"Oh. Come in then, there doors not locked. Perfect timing, I wa-" he stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up and we both saw each others' faces for the first time.
"Jay? Jay Hogart? What are you doing here?" I asked completely shocked. How could I run in with anyone from Toronto. It's over a thousand miles away! I guess this place wasn't far enough. Although, at the moment, having someone like Jay might be helpful to my current situation. No, what was I thinking, no one can know about this. I'd be dead by the next morning.
"Yea it's me, and it's really you. I heard of an "Ellie" in this town but I wasn't sure if it was you. As for what I'm doing here, Isn't it kind of obvious?" he gestured to the garage surrounding us.
"Yea, I know that. I meant why. Why did you come here?"
"Smallest, quietest place in all of Nova Scotia, or so I hear. I needed to get away, just like you I suppose."
"Yea, just like me," I stole a glance at my watch, eleven, crap I was so dead. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you."
"Yea." He looked at me in a weird way as I walk out of the garage and headed down the street to the house, as if he knew something. There was something else there as well, not pity, but general concern. Those emotions that were presented in his pure blue eyes that followed me all the way home.
I quietly made my way into the now pitch black house and began taking my coat off when the kitchen light suddenly flicked on. I jumped a mile high and nearly fell over as I spun around. There was Jarrett, standing stock still, smirking, his hand still on the light switch.
"Welcome home honey," he said sickly and his smirk immediately disappeared and his tone started burning with rage, "Where the hell have you been? I had to leave work early just to bring that guy up here to fix the truck. Do you know how much I'll be getting jacked in my pay for that? Well do you?" He was already by my side, and as soon as he finished that last sentence his knee was in my gut and I was in on the ground squirming as my stomach exploded in a deep, sharp, pain.
"Ple..a.se stop." I hoarsely whispered, then my eyes widened, and then began to water after his foot jabbed at the side of my body again and again.
"You want me stop do you!?" He yelled ,then he flipped over the wooden chair that was nearby, right over my body and walked away. "Fine, but only because I'm too tired for this right now."
It was at least fifteen minutes later until I was able to even move without gasping in pain. I took a few deep breaths then wriggled into a sitting position, eyes watering, and rummaged around in my coat pocket until I found it. The pills. I opened up the container and struggled to get one into my mouth. It had no immediate effect, but just the comfort of having them calmed me down. I used the wall to help me pull my battered and broken body up from the cold tiled floor, and then I trudged my way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. My whole body was in pain, and my soul was crying for someone to save me. But no matter how loud my soul would scream, I was left alone.
