Broken Screams ND

You turned 18 on August 25th, two months after me. We’d been planning for months to escape the town that trapped us. I waited outside your house, but all the windows were dark.  You’d promised you would be outside, and I started panicking. I asked a neighbor where you’d gone, and, surprisingly, she knew. She told me your father had sent you to your aunt in Utah. I even got the address.

It took me a day to drive there. I didn’t sleep at all. You were on the porch when I got there, staring blankly at the sky.  “Mex.” You turned at my voice and grinned like I was a hero. “Dev! You came for me. I swept you up in a kiss and carried you dramatically back to the car. We never saw your family again.Mexine visited every day, leaving me sobbing alone. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I started to wonder-Is it possible to be abused by a memory?

Week three was when they made me start taking pills. They didn’t help. I still saw Mexine every day. Dr. Fersinoto constantly checked on me, looking at my skin, taking X-Rays. She couldn’t understand why I wasn’t healing. She didn’t understand how much I just wanted to fade away.

Even with the pills the memories came to me.

The day we moved into our apartment it poured. Your hair was plastered to your head, but you were laughing as you set the last box down. “Done!” I kissed you lightly and turned to unpack. “Which box do you want to tackle first?” “The bed.”

When it was all set up you collapsed on the sheets. “Come here.” I curled you into my body and kissed your head. “Finally got our own place, Mex.” You smiled. “Love you.” “Love you too.”It took Dr. Fersinto a long time to figure out I wanted to die. I knew she had when I was put on IV for sustenance. “Please, Devin, just live.” They doctors eyes were sad. I’d over heard the nurses say she’d lost a patient, a little girl, just that morning. “Sure.” I ignored her and fell asleep again.

The last memory that came to me was the hardest.I’d planned a long time how to ask you to marry me. I bought a ring and waited at your work. Everyone was in on it-you had no idea. I fiddled with every screen in the place until they all read, ‘Will you marry me, Mex?’ with a picture of us. You actually burst into tears when I slipped the ring over your finger.

Dr. Fersinoto walked in hours later. “You’re coming with me.” She wheeled me to a dim room. “What?”  Her back was turned. “Enough.” “Huh?” She spun, shouting, “Enough!” “Wha-” “I have had enough! For months I have worked, prayed, cried over my patients. And they still die! I lost a little girl today, you know.” “Uh, yeah.” I was confused and a little scared. “She died on my table. She was seven, and I couldn’t do anything. I had to tell her parents that their child had just died. Do you know how that feels?” I shook my head.

“And here you are, on the edge of death, and I can do nothing. I’ve lost so many lives no matter how hard I work. And it hurts every single tome. I hate you sometimes Devin. I honestly do.” “Why?”

“Because you gave up. I slave over you and you hate me, you refuse to heal,  every time I walk in I dread seeing you face. Mexine is dead, Devin. I couldn’t do anything for her, alright? So why do you still hate me? “I,I,”  “I am done here, because you have no excuses.” She left.You come in after that. I can’t help noticing that you’re very faded. “Are you going to forget me, Devi?” Your voice is kind this time. I kiss your cheek. “Never.” With a sob, you disappear. But I can see you smiling by the end.

I was released a month after Mex stopped torturing me. My back was healed, my mind mostly so.  Dr. Fersinoto personally came to say goodbye to me, and I thanked her for her help. Then I left.

It was very strange to be back in the real world. It was almost like everyone had alien faces. I wandered around, thinking idly that I had to go back to my apartment. Instead I ended up at a small café I’d gone to often with Mex. There were only a few people there, drinking coffee and talking. I ordered a drink and sat outside, letting the sun warm my face.

Someone sat across from me and pressed a paper into my hands. I opened my eyes to see a scrap of newspaper. Mex’s face was on it.Mexine ‘Mex’ Durham was 23 years old when she died in the tragic train accident of last Thursday. She had worked at Strom Companies as a secretary for four years. Mexine was engaged to Devine Thoms, who survived the accident with injuries. She was well known as a talented cellist who often played for the Amhurst Senior Home. Mexine’s funeral will be on Sunday, June 19th. Please bring flowers and condolences. She will be missed.

I was frozen for a few seconds before I looked up. A woman sat across from me, green eyes happy. She’d filled out and her skin was glowing. “Alice.” I breathed. She smiled. “Hi Devin. I found Mexine’s obituary.” We looked at each other for a second before she took my hand.

“I left my dad. State says I don’t have to see him again.” “Good.” Alice looked down and blurted, “Look, Devin, if you need someone to help you, I’ll be there.” I looked at her serious eyes and smiled. “As I’m there for you.” “Friends then?” “For now. Maybe more.”

END