Chapter 17 - wind

Amelia's POV:

I feel like laughing. Uncontrollable laughter. 

Scary laughter that threatens to turn heads when a room is silent. Blood curdling laughter, just to prove that i am not okay. I pause to think about what would happen if i did just begin to laugh in this way. What the staff would do, what the patients would think. 

I can't tell why i feel this laughter burning in my throat like a bad cough, stinging my eyes trying to keep it down. Maybe i am excited. Maybe i am relieved after seeing Zackary. Relieved at how well he looked, considering. But how could anyone ever look well after feeling what they felt when he did that. My god, even in my worst abuse i don't think i have ever left that much pain that i can only imagine he felt. And he was so alone. Alone because i missed the signs, i wasn't there for him like i promised. But he knew that i couldn't be the person he is to me, because he's what- more damaged that me? I feel that laughter again. 

Never did i believe i'd met someone who had more pain inside them than me. And i'm not even sure how that sounds, probably self-centred, because my suffering isn't above everyone else's and i know people have been through so much worse. But when you're in it, that type of abuse, you think the whole world is going to end every evening. You get so used to that being the normal, of having heart pains from every loud noise, flinching so hard you nearly wet yourself every time you hear a door slam, boots on the stairs. I have been in it for so long, it is hard to see suffering as anything else. 

I walk out of the hospital, the light so bright i blink a couple of times to recentre myself. The trees groan around me, swaying in the breeze. It's bleak out here. I silently hope that Zack isn't sat in his bed, staring out of the window looking at this, because that would be enough to tip anyone over the edge. Walking is hard because i can't feel my feet, but i make sure to stop as i go, the noise tricking me into thinking i can feel myself in my body again. I am fine. It was good to see Zack, and i am fine. 

I walk. The wind is cold against my face. Prinkily. Cold spreads throughout my body, chilling me to the bone. Leaving me in hives, rashes. There's that laughter again. My feet are underneath me, now presently feeling. My face is plastered into a small smile, as if someone is going to pass me and ask me if i am happy. I do not know what i would respond; i do not like to lie to people. I walk, faster. Until i am almost at a run. The wind is in my lungs, the taste in my mouth metallic, iron. I smile wider against the chill that runs through me. Almost running now, my arms are raised behind myself, my bag tucked under my shoulder, like when i was a child and used to hold up my school cardigan to get caught in the wind and use it as a sail. Sailing the open wind and hoping to fly away. I could really use to fly right now. My teeth begin to hurt, my cheeks itchy. I bring my hands down, touching my face. I am crying, my face feels sticky. I choose to interpret these tears as tears of relief to know that my sweet Zackary is okay, not anything else. 

The bus stop stands empty, i sit down on the bench inside the covered area. My hands shake slightly, red and cracked from the wind exposure. I know that i am okay. I know that my sweet Zackary is okay. i know that i am in love with him. I know that i want to be with him for the rest of my life. 

A bus pulls up and i slide my phone out of my bag and get on the bus. The driver looks at me, somewhat strangely. "You okay, love? You look a bit disheveled," he states this as though it is a fact that he is reciting. 

I want to laugh, scream. "Yes, i am splendid. I am in love with a man who slit his wrists and is in hospital. A man who loves me, a man who sits outside my shower to make sure i am okay. A man who changed me and comforted me and brought me a fucking pink plant to look at. I am more than okay." Obviously i did not say this. I only smiled and went to find my seat.