I Was Never Loved

I Was Never Loved- chp 11

Chapter 11

The prevailing darkness that seemed to last longer than time itself was coming to an end. There was a light at the end of this dark hall that caused the shadows to flee. My company, my solace, they flashed by me in an effort to escape the light. The dark that numbed me was now leaving me to my demons. This was it; the big step. All those years of watching the TV and hearing people say 'don't go towards the light' had taught me that this was the next step. There would be no coming back from this and this didn't bother me as much as it might anyone else. Did I really want to go through the bright door? I stopped. The light was in reach but I had some doubt. How would Jayden feel? Who would mom take out her frustration on? Those thoughts were quickly pushed aside when I thought of total bliss. Happiness for the rest of my life and—and perfect peace. I wanted it . . .I wanted it so bad. I would have gone as far as to say I deserved it after everything I'd gone through.

Sucking in a deep breath I lunged through the door at the end of the dark hall, bracing myself for whatever awaited me on the other side. No matter what greeted me, it couldn't have been worse than the hell I'd already gone through. Slowly everything got brighter. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust but I was already disappointed.

"Hey what happened to the smile that was on your face just now?"

My eyes slowly searched the room in an attempt to catch my bearings. I was in the hospital. Again. There were a lot of wires that all ended up in me one way or another and a machine that monitored my heart rate. Jayden was sitting in the corner, looking far more relieved than he should have considering the circumstances that found me on this side of consciousness.

I sighed shutting my eyes again. "I only smiled because I thought I was dead." My voice was weak, devoid of any emotion save perhaps disappointment. They opened in time to see him frown as he made his way over to me. Placing his hand on my forehead gently, he looked at me, his eyes searching for a deeper truth than the one I'd confessed.

"What?"

"I said I was smiling because I thought I was dead." I repeated. My voice didn't get any stronger but the conviction was unmistakable. I'd have been happier dead than strung up to machines and bags of fluids. I didn't want to be here. It was always the same old same old. A Doctor would come in soon, tell me I got here just in time, express the danger I was in, console my 'grieving' mother then discharge me back into her care with a warning to be more careful next time depending on the story she concocted.

"Kai, why would you say that? If you died, there are people who would be hurt. I'd be hurt."

"No you wouldn't." I mumbled.

"That's not funny." His frown deepened.

"You seem fine now, are you alright?" I had to change the subject. This didn't need to be about me. I shouldn't still exist. "I guess the poison from last night wore off."

"Um, Kai..." The hand on my head move to gently stroke my hair, the concern in his voice was all but tangible. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah . . ." I said cautiously. I was disappointed not delusional. "It's Wednesday. Jonie and I had P.E yesterday—she didn't do her laps again."

"No . . ." Jayden's brows crinkled. "It's Saturday."

Was he serious?! That was the longest I had ever been out in memory but it felt like nothing at all. I didn't bother wondering where Mother was. Ever since I started coming here I learned that she waited down in the lounge or in the cafeteria with Matt then she would come get me when I was discharged. My neighbor once told me it was because she couldn't stand to see her own handiwork but I didn't think that was it. She'd never had a problem towering over me while I writhed and squirmed in pain. On the contrary, the look in her eyes told me she lived for it. It was thrilling for her; never did she look more alive than when I was hurting. Still, my neighbor tended to be right about most things so we agreed to disagree. She was the reason I had some level of confidence. When I was little she used to tell Mother that she needed me to come help her clean. Happy to get rid of me, Mom would allow it and the only thing I would clean was ice cream out of a large bowl or cake from a few saucers. She even had a chest of toys that she said belonged to me as long I didn't tell my mom—as if I ever would. She was my encouragement when I wanted so badly to give up; in ever true sense she was my mother. I told her everything.