Sincerely, Red

Chapter Twenty Three

Then, a thought occurred to me. "Can we see Lucas when we get back?" I asked. "I haven't heard from him at all and it must be awful being cooped up in there. Have you had the chance to see him? Is he holding up okay?"

They both looked towards each other, before looking back down again. Their gaze seemed to drop anywhere but near me and I knew instantly that something had gone terribly wrong. It was their panicked yet worn out expressions that gave it away, causing a stifling amount of tension to build up in the room. In fact, every little action seemed to be magnified and every moment prolonged, like time itself was being stretched out even if Claire wasn't controlling it.

"What's going on?" I asked, for what must have been the hundredth time. "Why are you acting like that? What happened to Lucas?"

For once, the roles were reversed. This time, it was David who tried to avoid speaking whilst Claire stood to take the role on. She looked as if the life had left her body, though I knew that a lot of it had been present only moments ago. Perhaps it was the fact that she was having to, yet again, tell me about something she shouldn't have had to tell me about it. Maybe it was just because she'd been trying to act normal and it still hadn't gone her way.

"Lucas tried to commit suicide over the weekend," she informed me, in a tone that I assumed was usually only reserved for her clients and staff. "He tried to jump out of the window knowing that his carer - I can never remember that woman's name - was gone and that he was alone. I think he was hoping that he'd lose consciousness before she got back and it'd be too late."

I took a while to let it sink in.

And then I was bolting out of the room like the place was on fire.

I heard Claire and David shout after me and one of them, most likely David, fell over the shopping bags on the floor with a loud thud. Nurses and doctors alike looked up from their generic wooden desks and their clipboards, taking longer than necessary to understand what it was exactly that was happening. They too began to take part in the chase, like you do in a group because all logic goes out of the window and a common goal becomes the right one.

I saw flashes of white amidst the paintings on the wall as I ran. The corridors were thin and endless, with chairs attached to the walls and thick windows above them. At points, you could see the different wards because of the difference in appearance. Whereas the children's ward I had been in was slightly more cluttered, the rest of the hospital seemed to be awfully plain. In fact, the only sign of colour I saw was the red cases that enclosed the strawberry hand sanitizer I'd first smelt.

I thought this, as I ran straight back to the starting point, surprised to find everyone there. I suppose it was inevitable that they would catch me in the end. There was no way that I was actually going to get out of those double doors, partly because I didn't know which way I was going and more so because I was outnumbered. If I had had the slightest idea of what I was planning on doing exactly, maybe it would've ended better.

Eventually, I was taken back to my room by a slightly frustrated Claire and a worried looking David. They didn't say anything as we took note of the familiar setting, with Claire and David sitting on the twin chairs and me curling up into the duvet on the bed. As usual, the silence did little to mollify Claire's anger and I found that the moments were being prolonged again. It was that, I suppose, which caused the feeling of time passing slowly. It also forced me to attempt to control my breathing, because it sounded out of place and awkward in the otherwise heavy silence.

"I'm sorry," I said at last. When nobody replied, I felt the need to fill the air with words that should've been spoken a long time ago. "I really am," I whispered. "It isn't just this or just making stupid decisions and never listening to you. I'm sorry that you have to wake up with the world every day, knowing that you won't have the opportunity to do the things they do, because you'll be looking after me. I'm sorry that I dragged you into this mess and got you physically, as well as emotionally, hurt. I'm so, so sorry that I don't know what to do and I sound like... well, I don't know what I sound like, but I'm sorry. I never think and I'm an idiot and I don't know what's best for me, even if I think I do. I'm just... sorry."