Never Alone

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Her name was Shima Akita. I'd been told to wait outside her hospital room door while Dr. Crimm spoke with her family. I couldn't hear anything, but it took less than five minutes for a man to emerge, his eyes red and his body reeking of alcohol. He never looked up, only shuffled past me and down the long hallway. I watched him go, wondering what the girl inside the room must be like if he was her father. I found out soon enough when Dr. Crimm emerged with a petite Asian girl, about 5'4" to my 5'8". Her hair was a rich black and her complexion was smooth and almost doll-like. I remember immediately thinking how beautiful she was and how so many of my friends would kill for her skin.

I stood up from where I had been sitting against the wall. She folded her arms nervously across her chest and it was then that I saw the thick, angry, red lines across each wrist that had been freshly stitched together. "Koralee, this is Shima. Shima, this is Koralee." Dr. Crimm motioned between the two of us expectantly as if she had just pronounced us friends for life. I gave my best smile, but it was met with a tight nod and evasive eyes as she tucked her chin down and averted her gaze. I got it. She didn't want to be friends, which was fine with me because I didn't really think I'd be sticking around long enough to need one anyhow. A lot of good my old ones had done me.

With another quick shake of her wrist, Dr. Crimm positioned her wristband and checked the time. "We need to get going. The car is waiting outside." She turned and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction Shima's father had gone. We followed obediently.

The ride was quiet again as we drove out of town and toward the airport. I tried not to watch as large tears rolled down Shima's cheeks. I was curious as to whether she was sad to be leaving or if those were tears of happiness because she was getting away. I wanted to know her story, but I didn't want to give up any of mine. Instead I sat there, watching the lights flick on in the businesses and the cars zooming in and out of parking lots, filled with people wanting to get home from their long days at work.

The doctor gave Shima a small pill to take as we turned onto the freeway. By the time we got to the airplane she could barely keep her eyes open. The flight attendant appeared and helped Dr. Crimm carry her from the car to the plane. I stayed in my seat, watching as her limp body was being carried up the steps. Had I ever seen anyone more vulnerable?

"Koralee," Dr. Crimm said in a sharp voice, but it was too late. My thoughts had already lead me into that dark space where everything started to swirl together in a whirlpool of negativity. Sometimes I could tread water for hours around the edge slowly, convincing myself if I just tried a little harder I could pull it together—I could get back out where the water was calm and my own thoughts weren't trying to drown me. But other times the churning current was too much and I couldn't stop myself from following the thoughts and fears around and around, faster and faster until I found myself at the bottom, beneath the weight of an entire ocean.

She reached for my hand but I swatted it away. I felt the cool night air on my face as I threw myself across the back seat toward the other door. I had to get out. I had to get away and get the weight off my chest. It was too much. "Koralee!" she shouted, and I clawed at the handle until it sprang open and I practically fell from the sedan. I scrambled, trying to get my feet to find stability when my knees were weak. The world was closing in around me, my breath was being locked in my chest and I couldn't get enough of it to fill my lungs.

"You're fine. Koralee, listen to my words. You're fine," Dr. Crimm instructed. "You're having a panic attack. You need to breathe."

I sucked in one breath, then another. "I'm sorry," I huffed as my lungs finally expanded to their capacity. I turned my face just in time to throw up onto the pavement beside me. There was nothing but bile in my stomach, but my body heaved and retched anyway until every last bit was expelled.

"I know." She didn't try to touch me again. She just nodded her head in the direction of the plane and waited patiently as I slowly straightened up and boarded. Shima was asleep inside, tucked safely beneath a blanket. I sat next to her. And even though the roar of the engines made my eyes feel heavy and I wanted so badly to give in to sleep, I kept my eyes open for the both of us.

***

Shima yawned from her spot across from me in the small family waiting area at the next hospital. Overhead an old game show was playing on the screen above a row of chairs. The room was empty so we'd both curled up in the uncomfortable seats while we waited. We were picking up a boy this time. I'd heard Dr. Crimm mention his name on the plane and that his parents were probably going to be a little more difficult to convince. I was beginning to wonder who she was talking to on that phone and also why they would be interested in a group of misfit, troubled teens. I also didn't miss the way she'd once again mentioned the Ertz boy, her tone growing harsher with each conversation.

"What do you think she would do if we left?" Shima asked. It was the first thing she'd said to me.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Where would we go? It's the middle of the night in a city we aren't familiar with. It's either stay with her or be out on the streets. We don't even have our phones." I was talking quietly in case anyone was listening, but there really wasn't anyone around to hear us, even if we were to be loud. She adjusted her head to get more comfortable.

"Did your parents get to read all the information?" I could hear sadness in her voice. In the state her dad had been in when I'd seen him, he might not have been able to.

"No. There wasn't enough time."

"Mine either. Well, my dad at least." She sighed and turned onto her back, looking up at the old tiles on the ceiling.

At the bottom of the screen the news ticker repeated the earlier information about Ertz, but this time it mentioned that the Judge had stayed his request in order to review his case.

I slipped down in my chair so I could look up at the ceiling tiles too. I couldn't help but think about Braden Ertz in his cell on Death Row. It seemed silly and trivial to me that adults fought so hard for certain rights and privileges, but then insisted on protecting adolescents from them. If Dr. Crimm wanted to end her life, she could. I wanted to end mine and that got me hospitalized and put under surveillance. A jury of twelve people convicted Braden of murder knowing it carried the possibility of the death penalty, but when he asked to die sooner a judge had to grant him permission. It didn't make any sense.

It was quiet again until the door swung open and Dr. Crimm peeked in.

"Let's go." She let the door shut before the two of us got to our feet. It hadn't even been thirty minutes. If this boy's parents were difficult to convince, then Dr. Crimm must've been very good at what she did.

I followed Shima out of the room and we found a tall, skinny African-American boy leaned up against the wall behind Dr. Crimm. He didn't look happy to be there and I couldn't blame him. I looked at his wrists out of curiosity, but they weren't scarred. Maybe his method left more marks on the inside than on the outside, like mine.

"Damien Winter, this is Shima and Koralee. You guys can get to know each other later—we're in a bit of a hurry." Just like that she was off again, striding down the hallway and toward some back exit as if she'd been given the plans to each of these hospitals before we even arrived. It would take me until the sixth one to know without a doubt that she had. We were in the car in no time and at the hangar even quicker. It helped to be driving in the middle of the night. I saw from all the signs that we were in Colorado, but from my estimation we were only physically in that state for under an hour. Then we were off to get Ken Able in Texas, a boy who would be bringing a wheelchair if I overheard the phone call correctly.

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