Page 98 of Deliverance

I try to swallow, but there is currently a boulder in my throat preventing me from doing so.

“Did you read your letter?” I manage to rasp.

Maggie’s brows furrow as she shakes her head.

“What letter?”

Guess not, then. My cowardice was hoping I wouldn’t have to explain myself. That I wouldn’t have to crack myself open, raw and vulnerable like that face to face with…anyone. Then again, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to face anyone ever again, period. I’m so pathetic, I can’t even die properly.

Leaning my head against the pillow, I space off, staring at the crisp white wall that has an ever so slight peel to the upper corner. Maggie lets me sit there in silence for so long, I forget that I even want silence, and I speak.

“Who found me?”

“Me,” she answers.

My eyes swing to hers, a million emotions flickering inside me.

She wets her lips like that will help her find the words she’s searching for before she lets out a bitter laugh and shakes her head.

“I thought you were…when I walked in there I…I had a feeling and-and if I didn’t have that feeling you would have been…and then I would have been…”

My heart aches at her words. Out of anyone, I wouldn’t have wanted her to find me like that. She’s more sensitive than she lets on, more caring. It obviously hurt her, which means I hurt her, again. All I fucking do is keep hurting her.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my lip wobbling as I speak. “I’m sorry you had to see me that way, Maggie. I…I’m sorry I didn’t do it right. I’m sorry you had t-to deal with that. I-I’m s-sorry,” I stutter as my chest begins to feel tight. I’m hyperventilating, I’m spiraling, and I don’t even know what way is up right now.

The monitors begin beeping like crazy and Maggie rushes beside me, rubbing my back in soothing circles as she shushes me.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay. Breathe. Breathe for me, B. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Doesn’t she get it? That’s the problem. That was going to be my escape, and now? I’m right back to where I was. Alone, isolated, and bleeding out on the inside.

Having Maggie’s arms wrapped around me, whispering all these assurances, does something to me. I crack. Sobs rip through me as I lean into her. All the pain and hurt inside me manifests itself in the form of violent cries, and Maggie holds me through it all.

The nurse rushes in, shouting something, and Maggie shouts back as she continues rubbing my back. I hear the nurse leave through my sobs when Maggie cups my face.

“Okay, baby B. I know this isn’t right or fair of me to ask, but I need you to stuff it down. I need you to take a breath because they are coming back in to sedate you and I can’t watch you lay here unconscious again, not knowing when you’ll wake up. Deep breaths, okay,” she says as she takes a deep breath.

My breathing is labored as I attempt to mimic her. It takes a few times before I can actually do so, and when I finally regulate my breathing, I feel like I can see for the first time. Maggie smiles, cupping my face gently as she nods.

“There’s my girl,” she whispers, almost to herself.

My stomach flips at her words, and all I want in the world is to burrow myself into her touch and never come up for air. I’ve never been so desperate for mere contact with another human in all my life.

A nurse and a doctor step inside, hands full of what I assume are sedatives when they pause, looking between Maggie and I curiously.

“Are you okay?” the doctor asks.

I turn to face her, forcing Maggie to drop her hold on me as I nod slowly. She stares at me for a moment before looking at the nurse and then back to me.

“Glad to hear it. Another doctor will be coming down to sit with you for a little bit, alright?”

I nod in response as both the nurse and doctor step out of the room. When I turn back to face Maggie, I see her watching me with so many complex emotions. Like they mirror the ones inside me. The problem is, I can’t figure out how to process any of them.

“I want to go home. When can I leave?” I ask.

Maggie frowns. “Not for seventy-two hours.”

I frown. That seems excessive for a drug overdose. Shouldn’t I…