The Reflection in the Window

It's a sight no one should have to see when a man like him has eyes that become lit with flames of vexation. I'd rather the fist to the face instead of that burning glare that feels as if he has x-ray vision that melts welts into your skin.

It sounds like a complete overreaction, you'd never understand until you witness it for yourself. You'd figure it out that it is not an overstatement. It's just a sad reality: people have those eyes that's worse than a hit to the cheek.

This was the first thing I saw when I woke up in the med center on a white hospital bed. Back in a hospital gown.

"You might as well stitch my name on this gown," I muttered, glancing down at the material, basically trying to avert from the conversation that was about to take place.

His stance was solid and tempestuous. I wanted to sink into the sheets and cease to exist.

"We both already know what I'm going to say so why even say it." He spoke in a deep quiet tone.

"Maybe I need to hear it," I wondered if I should have kept my mouth closed.

He wore a tight black shirt that showed his muscles contracting and relaxing. I could tell he was on the verge of screaming and I wish he would already. He had his black sweat pants on and his gray socks. Obviously it was late at night and he had raced down here for me.

He crossed his arms and looked down as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. He took in a long sigh and exhaled, lifting his eyes to the ceiling then back at me.

"Listen," His eyes went darker and his jaw clenched, "You did nothing wrong…you were set up."

I avoided his eye contact as my chest began to ache.

"Every man in this organization finds himself in these gowns, it's very common. That's how often people get injured. They get patched up and usually have no choice but to stay overnight. If they are lucky they even make it through the night. This is the reality of your life now. I'm just struggling to accept the reality that I could lose you."

I rested my head back on the pillow. I closed my eyes as the heart monitor began to beep faster.

He took a stride to the side of my bedside and reclined it. He pressed a cold damp cloth to my head that was close by.

"You still have to survive initiation so all I need from you is to be better than the men who already work for me because I can't lose you."

"You're supposed to hate me. So hate me."

He stared down at me and as usual he had the clenched jaw, hardened eyes and strong composure that never relaxed. He was still human with some emotion that still is able to live alongside the monster.

"I can't hate you," He said, breaking eye contact with me. He took a step and his back began to turn. I reached out and brushed the back of his hand with mine. He halted in his steps.

"Caring eats at you from the inside out." I pointed out. He peered over his shoulder fighting the urge to connect eyes with me.

"Chances are I'll lose you. I'm trying to avoid the pain."

"So you lock yourself up inside-"

"-you should invest in a lock yourself. Save yourself from grief."

He pulled his hand away and left the room. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I slipped the gown off my shoulders and studied my body in the reflection of the window.

My entire left side was wrapped up in gauze. Blood still had seeped through. The pain was lightening electricity shooting into every inch of my nerves. I bit the inside of my cheek and tasted metallic. My sternum was bruised purple and red.

I attempted to stand and sure enough I had the strength to walk up to the window. I could see the barren sod field. I could visualize our chase through the storm.

My heart monitor began to scream and blink red. My vision clouded over with black. Last thing I remember was the words...lock up.