Chapter one
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Adam walked into the kitchen, stretching his body. He had just woken up and he felt no emotion this morning. The curtains were drawn tight, allowing no light into the big apartment he had all to himself. He began to make coffee, his hair messy and unruly beneath a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. He certainly did not look his best for around 8:30am. Eyeliner was smudged, as he had fallen asleep after a concert last night. His career was still trying to take wings and fly, but he had no idea what he would do in the future.
Adam's electric blue eyes searched for a mug and as he spotted one, a knock came at the door. Adam rubbed his smudge-y eyes and scowled, not wanting to accept this visitor at this un-godly hour of the morning. He trudged to the door and looked through the peep hole. He expected a scantily dressed girl wanting a good time, but then he saw the suit, and he snapped his brain out of its trudge. It was a man in a pinstripe black and grey suit, which made Adam's tired eyes go crazy. He opened the door and gave his most menacing look.
"What the hell do you want?" He asked, looking down at the middle aged businesses man.
"Does an "Adam" live here?" He asked, trying to look inside, but Adam moved his body so that it was blocking most of the crack in the door.
"Why?" He asked, crossing his arms. He wanted no part of whatever this guy wanted from him. He knew it was probably just a sales person or a door to door spokesman, but something in Adam held that urge to slam the door in the guy's face back.
"Ah. I see. Adam, may I come in?" The man asked, giving a sly smile.
"Who the hell are you?" He asked, blocking the door even tighter.
"I am Dr. Charlie Portville and I am from the Chicago Mental Department." He said, taking a card out of his pocket. The man found it remarkable how well Christine had drawn this.. Man.
"Yeah. You're mental alright. What do you want?" Adam asked, getting highly annoyed with the uptight manner of the Dr.
"We have this patient. Her name is confidential until further notice. However, last week we went to check on her and we found her drawing the name "Adam" over and over again. We have checked with all the "Adam"'s in the state, and none claim to have a relationship with this young lady." The man said, clasping his hands over the handles of his briefcase.
"And you think it's me?" Adam asked, thinking this was some sort of prank.
"We have acceptable reasons to believe so. We would like for you to meet her. Will you consider helping us figure her and her condition out?" Dr. Portville asked.
"Why should I?" He said, thinking this was some sort of lure to kidnap him.
"Because this young lady tried to kill herself over crying over your picture two days ago." The doctor looked at Adam waiting for an answer. Adam reached up and smoothed his hair over in astonishment. The words hung like bricks over Adam's head, threatening to come crashing down lest he say a word. His mind struggled to make sense of the jumble that reached his brain a few seconds ago.
"She did what?" He asked, his hand grabbing the doorframe. Even though he had no idea who the young girl was, he didn't want to be the reason someone would take their life over.
"She tried to cut herself to death. We found a picture of you crumpled in her hand... And it appeared to be hand drawn." The doctor said, his eyes stone slabs. Adam rubbed his eyes again and took a deep breath.
"Why?" He asked, thinking that the doctor probably wanted to know the same thing.
"We don't know. That's why we needed to find you." He said, the solemnity of his words oozing depression from the girl.
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'I need to know why. I need to know why he isn't here, loving me.' Christine thought, struggling against the straight jacket she was forced into. Her room was plain white, and the only color came from the iron bar window on the far side of the room. Every time she had gone to sleep, Adam's image haunted her eyelids, his voice ringing throughout her head. She didn't want the sweet singing to stop, so she went quiet. She never spoke to anyone now, because she heard the sweet lulls of a voice, who belonged to a man who wasn't with her. It never was angry at her and it never physically hurt her. That she had done to herself. It broke her to pieces with the calling sometimes and she ached to see the man up close.
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"Alright. Let me shower and grab some coffee." He said, still stunned that someone would kill themselves over him.
"You wait in the lobby." He said, shutting the door. In a daze, Adam showered and got dressed thinking of how he could ever have done something to a girl to make her feel that bad about him. He was so trained on thinking of this that he forgot to get some coffee and he ended up just turning the machine off. Adam raced down the steps and found the Doctor again.
"Take a taxi with me to the ward." The doctor said, opening the lobby door.
"Okay..." Adam said quietly. He waited quietly beside the doctor thinking of anything he could to make an explanation why the girl did what she did.
"Don't fret about it, kid. The girl is sick." He said, pointing to his temples. Adam found this extremely rude and un- doctor like. He found the need to defend the girl.
"She has her reasons." He said, looking at the doctor beside him. He climbed into the taxi and his electric blue eyes turned slate grey in the pale sunlight. It was a cold morning, around 20* F and Adam rubbed his hands over his jeans, trying to warm them. The doctor was silent for the first half of the ride.
"She cries all the time now. She won't stop even if we give her relaxant." He said, looking over at Adam. Adam already felt bad about the girl, but this was too much. He didn't like seeing people in pain and that's exactly what the doctor was describing.
"May I know her name now?" He asked, looking out the window. He wanted to call the girl something other than "she" or "her".
"Her name is Christine." The doctor said gruffly, noticing the change in Adam.
'Christine. Her name is Christine.' Adam thought, repeating her name over and over. He thought it was a beautiful name, and it seemed to help ground him to the normal world.
"A few things about her. One: she's in hysterics. She can't function properly.. We don't know why. Two: she may cower away from you or she might even attack you. It depends. Three: you can't yell, cuss, make loud noises or sudden movements around her. She gets scared very easily and she may pass out if you do any of those things." The doctor explained as the taxi pulled up to a grey building.
"So basically be gentle around her?" Adam asked, knitting his eyebrows together.
"Yes. Act very gentle around her. But, if she does attack you, there will be guards to pull her off of you. She hasn't attacked anybody since last month though.." The doctor said, opening his door.
"She won't attack me." He said, feeling that the girl might just be comfortable around him.
"Well, you never know." The doctor said, walking at a brisk pace towards the doors. Adam followed him closely, still repeating her name.
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'Christine. Christine. Christine. Christine. Christine. Christine.' She heard, his voice clear and strong. It rang though her head, making her sob even more. For some reason, she felt she needed this man, this man called 'Adam'.
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"Oh, and whatever you do, don't /ever/ touch her." He said, typing in his code for the door. He led Adam into the ward. Adam had to go though security to make sure he didn't have any weapons. Adam kept silent as he was led down a long dreary hallway and to a small room at the end of the hall.
"You can go in when you want. I will be watching from the cameras." He said, slapping a bracelet on Adam with the purple words "visitor" on them. Adam didn't know why he was nervous about meeting the girl, but he knew this was a special moment for the both of them. He took a deep breath and signaled for the door to be opened. He stepped inside a perfectly white room and saw a figure huddled on the floor by the corner. The small fragile looking figure shook with sobs as he neared her. He got on his knees and knelt by the figure. He didn't want to scare her, so he just softly called her name.
"Christine." He softly breathed, about five feet from the girl. The girl flinched and sobbed even harder. She was also dressed in white, her hands plastered to her stomach in a straight jacket. He realized her face was bruised and cut. He decided to call her name again, this time even more sweeter.
"Christine." He called, shifting his weight to his arms as he sat down. The girl sobbed horrid, heart wrenching sobs that seemed to tear her apart with every breath.
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The calling was so loud and so sweet to Christine that she could feel it echo through her soul. Her notebook sat open on the table a above her and the light from the window shined on it.
"Christine." She heard again. She forced herself to look up, and before she could even wonder who it was, she knew it was him. It was Adam. She saw his boots and his jeans, but she forced herself to look at his chest, then, slowly, she forced herself to look at his face. Her eyes locked on Adam's grey/blue ones and she felt a shudder go through her body.
He had found her.
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