Talk To Me

Click, click, click. Says the fluorescent light swaying precariously above me. I tear my eyes away from it, scanning the room, the afterimage still blurring my vision. The room is long and narrow. I wonder what stories the saddened walls with peeling gray paint and cracks running along them have to tell. I can’t imagine they’d be happy ones. 

Ssss, ssss, ssss. Says the cracked white radiator jolting slightly, filling the room with air so humid it feels as if it’s pressing against my skin, trying desperately to get in. I force myself to breathe in the thick air, exhaling a shaky breath, as my mind tries to focus on something else. 

Beep, beep, beep. Says the EKG machine next to me, one of the only things in the room that doesn’t look bleak from years of grim and neglect. Rhythmic lines, lit in neon colors, run across the screen. Seeing my heartbeat, displayed for the world to see, makes me feel naked. I tense up, sucking in short clips of air, choking as I watch the numbers scramble up, trying to reach a height that would mean my perish. I close my eyes, struggling to calm myself.

Eek, eek, eek. Says the mint green swivel chair, a sigh of relief as the pressure of the weight perched on top of it releases. A reassuring hand touches my shoulder, and I force myself to open my eyes. For a fleeting second, I think I see the two big chestnut eyes I’ve spent hours gazing into, wanting to dive into them. Live in them. But all I see are two icy blue eyes dripped in sympathy, looking down at me. 

Tap, tap, tap. Says my finger as I try to listen to the buzz coming out of the doctor's mouth. My brain is working overtime to jumble his words. As though if I can’t understand what he’s saying then the memory won’t latch. This can all be forgotten. A far away pain that my body can’t feel. A pain my brain won’t remember. 

Tap, tap --- Tap, I tell my finger, but it doesn’t respond. It sits there, limp and defiant. I try to move my wrist, but it’s just as uncooperative as my finger. What’s happening? Panic sets in as I will my body to move. My brain says thrash. My body says nothing. My brain says get up and run. My body says nothing. I realize that the room is quieter. I lift my eyes to the light above, willing it to say something but it just sways, waving goodbye. I peel my eyes away, finding the radiator. Old friend, won’t you talk to me? It stares at me silently. My eyelids feel heavy. Am I still alive? My defeated eyes close. 

“Wake up beautiful” a voice calls to me, gently pulling me out of my dreams. I open my eyes to see two pools of chestnut staring at me. His lips touch mine, lingering for a moment, then pulling back. “Food will be ready in 10” he yells as he disappears into the hallway. 

I lay back down, my body buzzing with the vibration his kiss sent through me. I want to savor it. Bottle it up, keep this feeling safe. My stomach rumbles as the sweet smell of pancakes pulls me out of bed. I grab his t-shirt, the ivory musk comforting me, as I pull it over my head. I catch a glimpse of myself in the skinny floor mirror, decorated with fake spiders and cobwebs. I touch the nasty purple hickey sticking out against my tawny skin. The curls atop my head, trying to escape the hastily put together bun. This isn’t what I expected. Was I a woman now? 

Pattie always said, that once it happens, you’ll feel like a woman. But what did being a woman feel like? I felt sore, my legs shaking slightly like I needed to figure out how to use them again. Is this what being a woman felt like?

"Food's ready!" His voice yanks me out of my thoughts, drawing me towards him.

CRASH! Frozen in the bathroom doorway, holding a little white stick, I watch as the mirror, along with the Christmas lights, comes tumbling down. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he says, rushing toward me, eyes wild. “You dumb bitch, why did you wait so long to tell me? The anger in his voice slaps me awake. 

“I - I didn’t know, I just thought I was eating too much until I looked up the symptoms” I say, eyes on the floor, still clutching that stupid white stick. Silence.

I look up and see those beautiful chestnut eyes that I love so much staring at me, dark and hardened now. The tears come then, and I double over, holding myself. “ I’m sorry, just tell me what to do” I wail, wiping my nose on the hem of the t-shirt I’m wearing. 

Click click, click. Says the fluorescent light, swaying, waving hello. 

“Miss Thomas, you’re awake, good. The procedure went perfectly, now you’ll likely experience bleeding and should refrain from any…” I force my brain to quiet his words. I don't want this memory either. He’s handsome without the face mask on, but as he stands to leave, his eyes hold the same sympathy they did earlier. 

SLAM. Says the door as he leaves. I look at my hand, begging it not to move. It doesn’t listen. Defiantly, it lifts my gown and I stare at my stomach. It's flat now, the fullness that was there earlier is gone. I feel empty. My hand, as if to prove a point, rubs my belly. The motion makes me sick. Is this what it feels like to be a woman?

Squeak, squeak, squeak. Says the wheelchair as I’m pushed into the lobby. 

“Okay hun, now you’re sure someone is coming to pick you up?” The nurse says, looking down at me. I see sadness in her honey brown eyes. 

“Yes, I'm sure” I mumble. 

“Okay, just let me know when they’re here and I’ll take you outside” She pats my back and heads for her desk. 

I swipe open my phone, my fingers hover hesitantly over the keyboard. I’m scared, what should I say? 

I’m done, can you come get me now? 

How far away are you? 

Chris, answer me, please! 

This isn’t funny, I just want to lay down, are you on your way? 

Do you need the address again? 

Answer the phone!

PICK UP!!

Chris, please, answer me. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

Please. 

I love you. 

Message Not Delivered. 

Message Not Delivered.

Message Not Delivered.