4 Better Off Dead

Julia

2010

I open my eyes to find I'm in a cold, sterile hospital room. Fear courses through every cell in my body. A thousand thoughts race through my mind. Who brought me here and why? I try to recall what lead to my visit but draw a blank. Why can't I remember, oh why? I sob more frightened than before.

I hear heavy footsteps coming towards me. I glance over to find a tall rounded woman by my bed. She's wearing slate-blue scrubs. Her long caramel hair is pulled into a bun at the top of her head. A thin layer of bangs covers her forehead like a sheer drape. Her makeup is minimal, consisting of a bit of base, blush, and mascara. Her only jewelry is the gold studs in her ears. She gazes down at me with her large puppy-dog eyes, smiles, and says, "My name is Mary. I'm going to be your nurse today.

"I try to reply, but the tube in my mouth makes it an impossible task. Frustrated, I slam my foot on the bed. I have so many questions, but how can I ask them if I can't make a sound.

"Don't try to talk, honey. Just lay there and rest, and I'll see if I can answer some of the questions you might have, alright?"

I nod.

"You're at Bay Health in Delaware. You’ve been here for the past three weeks after nearly dying in a house fire. You have second-degree burns over fifty percent of your body, so the doctors decided to keep you in a medically induced coma until you’ve had a chance to heal. Your physician believes you will make a full recovery. With the advanced treatments we've used, there should be minimal scarring. Is there anything else?"

I look towards the intimidating machines a few feet from my head. The noisy device whooshes as the centerpiece move up and down. I follow its plastic hose with my eyes to find that it's connected to a device dangling from my mouth.

That's a ventilator to help you breathe. The doctor would like for us to wean you off it today. She points to a bag of fluids hanging from a pole a few feet from the bed. The IV is pumping fluids into your body to keep you hydrated. It’s also how we give you the antibiotics that you need.

I follow the plastic tubing to find it’s connected to a device dangling from my arm.

You have a catheter, so you won't need to get up to use the restroom. That'll probably come out once you're strong enough to move on your own. We've been giving you nutrition through this."

I see she's holding a small plastic tube attached to my stomach. "Once the ventilator comes off, this will be removed too.”

Hearing footsteps, I look towards the door to find a security guard standing outside.

"The officer wants to ask you a few questions. I told him I'd call when you're able to talk, but he insists on standing out in the hall."

I look over to find the officer racing into the room.

"Why didn't you tell me she's awake?"

With a stern look on her face, Mary turns to face him. "She still can’t talk.”

"She can nod, can't she?"

"I suppose so, but..."

"Guess that’ll have to do." Pushing the nurse out of the way, he steps up to the bed.

Mary darts around him. Squeezing in between us, she states, “You don't have to answer any of his questions. “You have the right to ask for a lawyer too.”

The officer shoves her aside. “Get in my way again, and I’ll arrest you for hindering prosecution.” Turning towards the patient, he continues. "Julia Moffitt, you're under arrest for the murder of Andy Moffitt."

Picking up my left arm, he handcuffs me to the bed. A thousand thoughts race through my mind as his last words replay in my mind. I'm under arrest for killing my husband? How can that be? How can any of this possibly be? How did I almost die in a fire?”

A vague memory suddenly comes to mind. I first recall the argument Andy and I had. I then remember waking up to find the house engulfed in flames how I made my way to the porch only to find Andy had locked it from the outside. “I was the one that was beaten and left to die,” I cry. All that comes out are a few squeaks. Frustrated, I smack my leg against the bed again.

I then recall the bomb I placed in his truck. They know it was me. I look up at the officer, tears streaming down my cheeks. Events from my past come to mind. I was shuffled from one foster home to another as far back as I can remember. I then recall how each seemed to be worse than the last. I ran away from that situation to one that was just as bad. Andy had me believing he was my night and shining armor my dream come true. Boy, was I wrong. “Why can’t I get a break? Why?” I sob.

"I heard we have a problem here." Looking over, I see an older, graying gentleman step into the room. Sniffling, I dry my face.

"No problem here, Doctor. Just placing the suspect under arrest."

"She's a victim, not a criminal."

He chuckles. "She has you snowed."

The doctor glances at me again. He turns toward the officer and asks, "What are the charges?"

"Murder in the first degree.

“Murder?”

"That’s right. She'll be transferred to jail when she's able to travel. In the meantime, there will be a guard posted at her door.

Turning on his heels, he steps outside. The doctor follows behind him.

The nurse turns towards me. "There, there, honey, it'll be alright." Seeing that I'm trying to tell her something, she hands me a pen and paper. “Try using this, she instructs.”

I scribble a message and then hand it back.

"They think you planted the explosives in your husband’s truck?"

Nodding, I scribble. Andy was abusive, and it was the only I could escape.

“Did he start the fire?”

I nod again.

"I'll call my lawyer friend, see what he can do."

I write to thank you on the paper.

"You're very welcome, sweetie. You should try and get some rest, alright?" Straightening my linen, she continues. "I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you." She starts to leave when another thought comes to mind. She grabs the notebook from my hand and then explains. "He doesn't need to see this." She glances towards the door.

I nod.

I wake up to find myself rolling down a long bright hallway. Frightened, I glance up to see an orderly dressed in Navy blue scrubs glaring down at me. His eyes seem familiar, but I couldn't be too sure with the surgical mask covering his face. I then realize that I'm not on the ventilator. I gasp for air then discover I’m breathing fine on my own. I then recall the nurse weaning me off of it the past few days.

A cold wind whips across my cheeks when he pulls me through the door. Glancing around, I see that we're going outside. "W... Where are you taking me?"

"We're going on a little road trip."

"No!" I yell, trying to sit up. The restraints pull me back down.

"You're not going anywhere." He laughs, pushing the gurney out on the sidewalk.

"Please, someone help me," I scream.

"Yell all you want, but there's no one around to help you.”

I glance around to find the cold, dark parking lot empty. I then see an ambulance pulling up to the back door. Maybe he’ll save me.

Jumping out, the man runs to my side. Like my abductor, he’s wearing scrubs and a mask.

“Please help me. He's taken me against my will,” I cry.

His eyes twinkle when he says, “I know. Grabbing the end of the stretcher, the two load me in the back of the bus. My kidnapper leans over and says, "I'm going to get rid of you once and for all."