As soon as I felt like I had transcended to a happy place, free of worries, and feeling like all my hurt was being replaced by a foreign feeling of serenity, I was interrupted by a strange sensation.
A faint tune of beeping, somewhere in the far distance, the light treading of footsteps and unintelligible chattering, somehow had triggered my consciousness.
I mutely grumbled, shifting a bit from my stiff position, the feeling of softness beneath my body enveloping me. Slowly moving my head, I tried to open my eyes but the sharp white rays of light pierced my vision and I closed them again. I brought my weak hand very slowly towards my eye, huffing and whimpering to myself. Curling my frail fingers into a fist, I rubbed them to regain sight, while tilting my head again a little. The intensified pain that I felt in my stomach, caused me to wince whilst I struggled to move. All my senses became alerted as my ears picked and tuned in the sound of rushed footsteps, from all the light noise elsewhere.
I heard a strained voice, almost crying out. "Michelle!"
My eyes which were open into slits instantly shot wide open, and I gaped at my surroundings, trying to take in everything. Bright white office lights illuminated the area, and everything around me was nothing but a splash of white. White linen curtains, white bedding that I was laid on, white painted walls and people dressed in bleak white clothing. The whiteness around was enough to drive someone insane.
"Michelle..." The voice drove my attention again. I slowly turned my head towards the source of it, absorbing every single detail.
Pale golden hair, lightly tanned skin and bright blue eyes gleamed at me, a sharp contrast to the otherwise mundane room. I almost didn't recognise the person, that sat next to me.
Before reality struck me.
I was alive.
But not in the place where I wanted to be.
I instantly jerked up from the bed in fear in sudden realisation, causing the draped white sheets over me, to fall from my torso. I gulped lightly, touching my arms with my shaky frail hands, and glanced everywhere again to ensure everything was real and not imaginary. I scanned the whitewashed compartment with wide eyes before slowly turning towards the boy I barely knew anymore.
His appearance was severely out of place and dishevelled -- something I'd never seen him like before. It would've teared me up to see him in that state if it wasn't for my own messed up situation. His hair was very messy, his face unshaven which showed a light brown shadow of hair across his jaw. His eyes seemed lifeless, but a flicker of hope still glimmered in them as they stared back at me, and right through me. My breath hitched in my throat just as his strong arms pulled my body into his. The heaving of his paced breathing, the slight tinge of nicotine in his breath, and the racing heartbeat synchronisingly rhyming against my thumping one in my chest, all replaced my jittery nerves. I didn't -- or couldn't -- reciprocate the warming gesture for some reason though, but I didn't resist either, melting into him. It didn't stop him from pecking and placing kisses in my hair during the hug.
The doctor came in just after, pulling us apart and checking over me, not before asking the guy beside me to escort me out. He resisted for a moment but had no choice but to leave.
The nurse entered next, wearing all white as well, and smelling of medicine and chemicals. She checked the monitor beside me and then, ensured all of my limbs, my breathing, my temperature, and vitals to see if I was fine. The check-up lasted several minutes, followed up by multiple questions about my well-being. I was then given some food that looked like some vegetable salad in white plastic packaging and some kind of weird pill after that. I didn't resist, doing whatever the nurse told me to.
And that was when the anxiety kicked inside me again, which followed the sudden realisation. The fact that I had to face so many people knowing about this incident, was equally unsettling than being alive. I knew everyone was going to hate me even more now. And they would finally think I was crazy. It scared me to death thinking how I was going to deal with them. And more specifically, how Mum was going to react to this.
I mentally prepared myself for what was to come through them, most probably something along the lines of, how could I be so selfish for trying to unalive myself.
I felt upset. Entirely, to the core, upset. Hayden, who I thought was my only saving Grace, had promised me he would help me, and this is what happened instead. He made everything worse than it already was. I didn't even want to trust him anymore now, that if he came back again. I didn't want to talk to anyone at this point, let alone trust, and instead, I just wanted to run away to an isolated place and away from any human populace.
Hours went by with the doctors and nurses checking up on me, and finally, he was allowed in again, looking like a sharp contrast to the white-clothed doctors, followed by no sign or indication of Mum. The devastation in his aura was slightly overcome by seeing me again. He lightly stumbled towards my stretcher, a half-burnt cigarette in his left hand. He collapsed on the stool again beside me, remaining silent for what felt like ages, quietly contemplating something while staring at a corner in the wall.
It seemed a long time had passed before his hoarse voice cut in. "Why Michelle... Why?" He asked lowly, his voice reeking of pain.
Because I didn't feel safe anymore.
Because no one seemed to believe me about whatever had happened.
Because everyone thought I was crazy.
Because there were people out there who wanted to kill me.
Because that was the only way out that I knew of.
Because that was the only way I could live again.
But all these answers were as futile of attempts to convince him as they were before, so I didn't bother to answer. I nervously wrung my fingers together, looking down intently at the sheets covering me. "I don't know..." I replied with an equally hurting tone, my voice sounding raspy from not speaking. He gave me a look, trying to analyse or interpret something out of me.
"Where's mum?" I meekly asked again, when I realised Edward wasn't going to let me off the hook so easily about it, considering his expectant expression.
The reaction from him instead was that of hurt and a transparent grimace, followed by an exaggerated sigh. "Let's not talk about that."
"What..." I blurted, my voice getting caught up with the hurtfulness. "Tell me, where is mum?" I formulated more assertively.
"Michelle-"
"Edward, should I ask the doctors? Or wait, I should call her,"
"Overdose on some pills," He answered grimly. "That's what happened,"
"What?" I blinked, unable to believe or comprehend any of what he was saying. The realisation struck me that it could have to do with something related to her... Not being here anymore. "How is that possible?" I whispered more to myself, staring at him wide-eyed.
That was the point my numbing feeling was replaced by an ache in my chest, with my mind unable to register the information.
"She couldn't handle the news of you trying to... You know, hurt yourself... So she just did it as well. You were the last of her family..." He exhaled breathlessly. "I wish I could stop her, but I didn't know about it until it was too late,"
A small tear crept into my eye, sliding against my heated skin, and I looked away.
"But hey... I'm here for you okay?" He whispered in reassurance, clutching my soulless hand in his. An instantaneous flash of a painful reminder projected in his eyes before he tried to compose himself to continue. "I know how it feels like,"
That made me meet his penetrating gaze again, which seemed full of despair. I remained silent, as a cue for him to continue and he started. "My mum... She took her life too because she was schizophrenic,"
"Schizophrenic?"
"Yeah." He gulped, trying to compose himself, while clutching my hand in his. "I mean she was diagnosed with it. It was a delusional disorder, and she experienced auditory hallucinations,"
I seemingly flinched at the mere thought of him still purposefully trying to insinuate the resemblance between me and my so-called schizophrenia label that he had put on me. But I pushed that thought aside, for now, not wanting to act all self-centred.
"How did it happen?"
"I still don't know the cause of this, but I can tell it's not something normal. It's just probably severe long-term trauma, or maybe just genetics, I don't know." He shrugged, mimicking my wide-eyed gaze. "But... But when she did find out that she was suffering from the disorder, she didn't handle it very well. I remember her... She ran to a mental asylum, right before she took her life there. I was only thirteen at the time..." He inhaled a sharp breath, trying to regain his breaking state. "And now, when you did that, I just felt like it was all repeating. Until I finally saw you alive. And I, for the first time felt like I could help someone."
I silently listened to him, unsure of how to respond to all of the information he was sharing. The overwhelming amount of hurt begun to feel like my heart would give out at any moment. "Edward... I'm so sorry to hear that... I don't know what to say... I-I hope she's in a better place now." I gasped between my trembling breathing. "I'm so sorry for whatever I did, I never meant to do it..."
And for the first time, I felt scared. Scared of letting go of life.
"Michelle, I'm trying to help you. We can fix everything again together, if you only trust me," He turned towards me, hopefulness and optimism brimming in his subtle gaze. "And I know I've done things, I'm not the most proud of, but I had no choice Michelle. But I want you to know it because I don't want to hide anything from you," He spoke more to himself rather than to me. His words led me to more suspicions and doubts, but he intervened between my incoming suppositions. "And I'm so, so glad you're back." He breathed, his voice laced with so much pain, as he finally threw the small stub of the finished cigarette.
"Edward..." I whispered, wanting to voice out the voices in my head. "What is it?" I had started to feel a little worked up at his constant hints.
"Do you still promise not to leave me again?" He asked again, and I slowly nodded, a little confused. "Promise me,"
I hesitated before quickly answering. "Edward, you can trust me. I promise I won't,"
"I just did it because I didn't want to lose you... Because you were feeling so paranoid and anxious without me, and I couldn't just let you self-medicate with anxiety pills, I had to do this just because you weren't ready for therapy at that time and I understand but-" He begun randomly ranting, and I couldn't quite tell where he was going with this.
"Edward tell me already," My hoarse voice came out, desperate.
"I'm just trying to help you, that's all. I think I mixed some wrong medicine in your drink that I once took you out for with me. It was prescribed to Mum, but I didn't know it could've worsened your state and..." He clutched his hair in his hand, trying to console himself more than me. "I didn't mean to hurt you okay? I think you got more anxious after that drink and you must've decided to end your life because of that... Because of me and I know it's my fault, so please give me a chance to fix this," He resumed his crossword of my assumptions.
"I only did it just so you would stop suspecting me of having wrong intentions for you... All I have for you is love. Just please don't ever think otherwise," He finally concluded and I looked at him in utter surprise and shock, my mind going crazy with all the information.
With an encouraging smile, he continued. "But I'm so glad you're back," he exhaled, pulling me into him again.
I was finally able to put the pieces together but I couldn't believe he was still on the same venture to prove some sort of point to me on how I was not sane enough to handle myself.
I didn't reply to him though, feeling lost in my own sea of numbness and blank emotions. He finally embraced me into a fulfilling hug, whispering to me, "Just don't do that again,"
The truth was, as long as Edward was with me was when I felt the most sane. It was as far away as I walked away from him, the further I felt from myself. I'd feel unnecessary thoughts and think of unspecified emotions, whenever he wasn't around and I was very codependent on him. Right now the numbness from the reconciliation, I endured was soothing on its own accord, and I didn't want to let that go.
No matter what mistakes he made and all the bad things that happened between us, they felt very bland and driven by someone else, most probably Hannah. I could only blame him so much for her doings.
"Okay... It's okay." I nodded back, not wanting to meet his grief-stricken gaze. "I still love you Edward," I spoke after some time and I felt his body still for a moment, his grip tightening on me again.
He pulled away from me a little to look at me with a gleaming smile, that melted my insides. "Thank you... Thank you for believing me. I love you more." He brought his lips near mine, pecking them slightly. "We could finally marry now." He let out a sigh of relief, a smile marring his now hopeful face. I smiled back a little, automatically giving in to his affectionate gestures, and nodded in return.
I was ready to start my new life with him.
Perhaps we were all a little crazy on different spectrums. We just needed to choose which kind were we really willing to put up with.
And perhaps every lover was delusional, unless reality sets in, that was, the end.