Like the first time I'd woken up in the hospital, we had to wait a while before I was allowed to leave. I spent over three days in the lifeless room, watching as the light turned to dark and the dark turned to light. Sometimes, the moonlight would enter the room in the evenings and paint the wall across from it in a much lighter shade, and I wondered if it could be as easy as that. Couldn't we, just for a moment, let everything rest and wait for the world to bring us that weightless feeling? Couldn't we just let something else take over? Couldn't we simply exist in a world that was living around us?
Whilst I was staying there, Claire negotiated with the hospital staff, desperately trying to get me home. It was strange, I thought, as she ran up a nervous frenzy amongst the workers. She was a different person from what I remembered. She wasn't deliberate in her actions or as closed up; it was natural and wonderful that she now had the opportunity to be carefree and reckless. Tim wasn't there to ruin it -whatever it was - anymore, even though I knew it was going to take ages for her to get over the whole ordeal. It was the fact that the possibility was there that mattered.
I thought this as she came in with David on Monday morning, both of them carrying a mass of shopping bags in their hands. It looked as though they were mostly clothes, but I saw a few food items in there as well, along with a couple of picture frames.
"Don't crane your neck, sweetheart," she instructed, gently. "You'll hurt yourself."
Putting the bags down, David scoffed. "You realise that she's not going to break, right? She's not fragile and all this caring stuff is creeping me out. Since when did you become nice?"
I noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt, a pair of faded scruffy jeans and paint splattered shoes. His normally floppy brown hair was shaved shorter at the sides, whilst being longer at the top. It made his face look thinner and his features more defined, though one of those features was completely new to me.
"Are you wearing contact lenses?" I asked sceptically. "I'm pretty sure your eyes were brown before and now they're... green. I can't be imagining that."
Claire face palmed. "He said he's going incognito. Apparently, this is going to make him untraceable, because David has convinced himself that he's part of a mafia throw down or something. Any time now, he's going to leap into action and defeat-"
"No need to be sarcastic," he muttered. "And I don't think I'm part of a mafia throw down. I've just taken the mature decision to not draw attention to myself. I mean, I know now I should've thought of the press taking pictures before, but that wasn't at the front of my mind at the time. I was hoping that we could all just settle down and start again, start anew."
Nobody said anything for a while, especially Claire who was busy fiddling with the watch dial on her wrist. She turned the clock handles backwards and forwards over and over again, eventually deciding to turn back the time to what seemed like five days ago. I suppose she liked that, being in control of something again. It was nice to know that you could grasp time in your hands and not let go, because it would only flee through your fingertips if you gave it the chance. By then, you would have lost the power over it completely.
"Do you know when I'm going home?" I questioned aloud. "I figured the food in the bags wasn't just for snacking in the hospital."
Claire looked up quickly. "Oh, yeah," she said. "It took us both ages, but we finally managed to convince them to let you go. I think we're safe to leave this afternoon."
I smiled. I was glad that I wouldn't have so much time on my own now, because that nearly always led to uncontrollable thinking. There were just too many thoughts to contain and not enough that were actually being contained. It wasn't something I liked to dwell on.
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."
David smiled softly, ruffled my hair and looked back down again. I don't know what it was exactly but something told me that he would always be on my side, whether I did right or wrong. I didn't doubt that he'd tell me to make the right decisions, but his support would never be threatened by anything. He was just David and he hadn't really changed that much. He was still a good person and that meant that he'd broken the world and beat it at its own game, because the world was always trying to break us.
Claire, on the other hand, looked like she was about to start crying. She had lost the sharp edge she'd always carried and I guess it was that which was letting her open up. Her personal barrier against everyone had left her feeling alone and isolated. After a while, I'm pretty sure she'd convinced herself that she really was those things. That had driven her to become an angry and cold person. I suppose feelings have a funny way of working and hers were no different.
"Don't apologise," she said, letting out a sob. "I should be the one apologising. I'm so sorry for not knowing what was going on. I had suspicions and I just... I just let them remain suspicions. I never actually went to look for answers and maybe we could've-"
"Claire," David said gently, touching her shoulder. "It's okay. We're not going to get anything out of self pity and blame. We're just going to drive ourselves to insanity and that's the last thing anybody needs."
She nodded and wiped her eyes, which were red from previous rounds of crying. "If other people can do this, so can I," she muttered. Then she corrected herself. "I meant us. We're going to do this together."
David's mouth twitched at the sides, as she let out a watery smile and interlocked her fingers with mine and then his. I liked how her hands were warm and that she wasn't talking about how she needed a manicure. I also liked how David's hand was bigger so her hand was lost in his, whilst the sunlight this time pierced the window and wrapped itself around us.
It was perfectly imperfect, if you could describe it like that at all.
We didn't go back home.
Instead, Claire booked two rooms in a hotel just ten minutes away from where Lucas lived. It wasn't an incredibly modern building but it wasn't really all that old either. The outside consisted entirely of red bricks and someone had cut out silver letters to form The Safe Haven, which was the name of the hotel.
It seemed oddly fitting, especially when I found that the inside reminded me of home. It wasn't home as in Claire's custom made kitchen and living room or even David's worn out sofa and picture frames. It was the fact that there was a blend of personalities, like I'd felt with both of my parents. Whereas some people were lively and animated, others were relaxed and more reserved. The entire first floor of the hotel was filled with these types of people, as they checked in and out and we waited in line. It reminded me of Claire's and David's differences and the way they made what I thought of as home.
When we eventually got to the front desk, a man handed Claire and then David an electronic key each. They were supposed to get us into our rooms, one of which I would be sharing with Claire. I found it odd that a small card gave us access to everything else. That was probably only because I'd never actually had a need to go to a hotel before and this was the first time I'd stepped into one.
"Is it okay?" Claire asked, as we boarded the lift. "I didn't want you to go straight back to the house after waking up. A change of setting was meant to be a good thing and David thought so too, but if you'd rather go somewhere else I can change the plans and-"
"It's okay," I answered, putting a stop to her rambling. "I like it and the fact that it's close to where Lucas is. Do you think we'll be able to see him today or is he in hospital?"
I fell into step beside her, taking longer strides to meet her pace. I knew David was lagging behind and trying to catch up, so I slowed down just a little bit. Whilst altering my pace, I waited for her answer and noticed the paintings hanging on the walls. There were images of angels, sunsets, swans on a beautiful lake and so much more. I didn't have time to look at all them as my feet followed the corridor round the corner and to our room, before coming to a standstill on the red diamond patterned carpet.
"Lucas actually asked to see you on Sunday," she said, pressing the card to a spot on the wall. "That's when he was allowed out of the hospital because they needed more space. I guess we could go and visit after lunch, but I'd have to check with that annoying woman first."
We waved to David who finally managed to get into his room, which was opposite us. Claire smiled like she knew he'd be the one to make a stupid mistake, and I took happiness in the fact that they were getting along. It made for a nice change and the peace didn't seem at all unnatural. It just was.
"We'll go and see Lucas," she repeated. "Don't worry about it."
Of course, I couldn't help but worry about it. I wasn't sure at all how to approach him, because something had to have happened in those few days for him to want to end his life. Something must have changed or another element of life had to have become too much. I just didn't understand how to talk to someone about their feelings, which I pretty much had no control over.
Still, we went in after lunch just like Claire had promised. The building was familiar and a little more pleasant than the hospital. It hadn't changed at all since the last time I'd visited, though I wondered if they'd moved the biscuits away from David's reach.
"I'm going to go and, um, look around for... stuff," he said, as though he was reading my mind. "I think the kitchen would be a good place to start."
He scuttled off not long after and Claire jogged after him, muttering something about babysitting. That left me to climb up the more than annoying stairs and knock quietly, but deliberately, on Lucas' door. The small action caused nervous anticipation in the pit of my stomach, and I clasped my hands together in my aim to do something, anything.
My attention was drawn away from this, however, when a tired looking Lucas opened the door. He didn't say anything but motioned for me to step inside the lightly ventilated room, which was littered with paper and shards of glass. He had obviously been breaking things in his aim to vent out anger, which I wasn't sure was an entirely negative thing. At least he was releasing some form of emotion.
"Where are David and Claire?" he asked, dodging some of the glass and taking a seat opposite me. "I thought they would've come up with you, with all of this going on. Haven't they been extra protective or anything?"
I didn't like the slightly accusing tone in his voice. "They've been fine actually," I informed him. "I heard you haven't been so good though."
He laughed lightly and so quietly that I almost didn't hear it. "No, I haven't been too good. I don't know if you're aware of this, but when you're cooped up in a room and told that a crazy killer is out to get you, you kind of freak out. Then, you get angry. Then, you try to end it all because life sucks and you're too much of a wimp and a drama queen to deal with it."
"Stop that," I muttered.
"Stop what?"
"Stop being so casual and sarcastic about it," I said. "You can't just keep pushing everything away and hoping that it'll magically disappear because you're ignoring it. It doesn't work that way and I don't want you to think like that. That's what led to you doing what you did in the first place."
He looked at me like I'd grown another head and then burst out laughing. "You sound like a shrink. Let it all out and feel the emotions being released from your body," he imitated. "That's ridiculous. I mean it's true, but the way you said was just really... ridiculous."
"Shut up," I said. "You're annoying."
"Don't steal my line." He laughed. "Everything seems ridiculous, like, he's actually gone. He'll be locked away and none of us, especially you, will have to deal with him again. It's just over and I don't know whether to be happy or cry because I don't know what to do now."
"What do you mean?" I asked. Then I added, "You can say Tim's name, you know. He's not going to jump out from behind your chair."
He glared at me. "I know that. I'm not an idiot and what I meant was that it's just taken up a lot of my life. You know that better than anyone. I don't know where I stand anymore. I mean, where do I live? What am I actually going to do with my life after my GCSE's? I just don't know what the future, for me, actually is."
"Isn't that the point?" I questioned. "We're not meant to know, but that doesn't mean we don't have some control over it. You can still try to get good results so you have the option to get into a good sixth form or college. It's just about keeping your choices option and then - when you've decided what you want to do, no matter how long that takes - you can do it."
"Yeah, okay," he muttered, clearly not believing in what I'd just said. "But what about the stuff we don't have control over? How are you meant to face something that doesn't even exist yet?"
"You don't," I said simply. "It's like what's happening right now. We didn't have control over that and no one expected it, but we still got through it. It's just a matter of figuring it all out as time goes on. I'm not sure about you, but I've noticed that life saves the best things till last. Of course, we're going to have a tonne of problems but that's normal. It's not extraordinary and, in the end, there has to be something that we've got to look forward to. It's just a waiting game but you can't let that ruin what you have now."
He stared at me and I stared back at him, as Claire and David walked into the room. There was a mutual understanding there and we both knew that what I'd just said applied to everyone. And because there was an everyone, we weren't alone and we'd get through all of it as one.
A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long. Everyone's just had some really intense mock exams and it's taken up a lot of time, but I'm happy because revising paid off and I got good results. Now I can spend some of my time here.
I wanted you to know that after this, there's one more chapter and then it's finished. Thank you for all of your wonderful support, and hopefully I'll be able to express my gratidude better in the final author's note later on.