|Four| I’m jaded…I hate it…

“Please. No.” Emma pleaded, cowering behind the couch. She risked a glance up, but there was no change: her mother was sprawled on the floor, her legs in weird directions; a small pool of blood was congealing under her bruised body. Yet, the man above her still continued on his quest: to make sure that there was no more blood left in that body.

Emma‘s heart beat faster than she’d ever felt it beat, she raised herself in bed and looked around the moonlit room. Her shades weren’t drawn, and she had a clear view of the moon in all its gray glory. It shimmered amongst the sparkling stars. The midnight blue sky was inky with black and thick with a fog that was looming over. Emma brought the covers up to her chin: she was shivering even though it couldn’t be less than 50 degrees outside.

Her teeth were chattering so hard and her hands shaking so violently that she wondered if she should call for a doctor. Emma slowly set her feet on the ground and screeched aloud as the coldness hit her feet like sharp icicles plunging into her skin.

A nurse was in the room almost instantly taking her temperature, blood pressure and pulse.

Emma lay in bed, watching the ceiling. “It happened again,” she muttered.

Eunice looked up at Emma, her brow was wrinkled in worry. “What did?”

“I relived it.”

The following morning was bright and cheery outside -- but less than that inside. The hospital was always a little dreary but today it seemed more so. Emma sat quietly in Dr. Johansen’s office, watching the tree outside sway slightly in the breeze that floated up from the water.

“Emma, you need to tell me about this reoccurring nightmare. Now.” Dr. Johansen’s voice was firm and direct. Emma couldn’t look at her.

To the tree, Emma replied, “I really don’t want to.”

“Emma,” she pushed. “You NEED to.”

Tears glistened in Emma’s large eyes and Dr. Johansen’s heart wrenched when she noticed. “You know what happened that night. I don’t need to tell you.”

“I do know,” agreed the doctor. “But you do need to tell me.”

Sighing, Emma changed positions in the chair. Her legs were beneath her and her eyes were on her legs. If she had to tell the story…she certainly wasn’t going to watch anyone’s reaction when she did. “It was three months ago…around midnight. I had been out with friends…at a party…”

An irritating knock sounded at the door. Emma’s head snapped towards it and before she knew what she was doing, she’d said: “Come in.” Something was wrong. She could feel it in every fiber of her body.

Carla, a morning nurse, entered the office timidly. She was wringing her hands looking like a child who had finger painted on the wall and was about to be spanked. “Dr. Johansen. I am so sorry to interrupt. But…Miss Burns’s presence…it’s requested.”

Carla nodded to Emma and ducked out of the room. Before Dr. Johansen had a chance to react, Emma had sprung to her feet and was running towards room 220.

Elijah was leaning against the wall beside the door. He looked amazingly pleased to see her. He steered her away from the watching eyes of the nearby nurses and leaned towards her, whispering.

“Lil is freaking out, Emma. My mom is in there trying to calm her down. Mom wants to take her home...so she can, you know…She says she’s going to jump out the window unless she can see you.”

Emma’s eyes widened in horror. “What?” She didn’t give Elijah time to respond. Instead, she spun around and pushed inside the room. Lily and Elijah’s mother looked up, tears in her eyes. Lily was hooked up to more machines than Emma could count.

“Lily. What’s going on?” Emma stepped towards the bed, on the opposite side from Debra Wood.

Lily was trying desperately not to cry. She was picking at one of the IV’s looking like a little child about to enter her first day of kindergarten. “She wants to take me home, Emma. She wants to get a nurse and bring all of this crap home. She wants me to die at home! But I promised you…I promised you Emma that I’d give YOU my last request.”

Tears spilled from her eyes and Emma looked stricken. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to react. All she knew was that her shirt front was becoming soaked as her own tears fell down as well.

Elijah put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed tightly. She looked up at him through her tears and managed a smile which he returned in abundance. Emma wanted so very much to bury her face in his chest and just cry. But she couldn’t. She had to stay strong for her friend.

Emma reached out and took Lily’s hand in her own. It was freezing. “Lily. You need to do what you WANT to do. I want you to…just don’t…promises. You know. They’re…” Emma shrugged. “I don’t know what to say, to tell you the truth. But it’s probably best if you DO go home, Lil.”

Mrs. Wood dabbed at her eyes with a tissue which Elijah had supplied. He now had one hand on her shoulder as well.

“I don’t want to go home,” retorted Lily angrily. “Why should I? I’ve lived here for the past four months of my life…” She reiterated, “I don’t want to go home, Emma.”

Emma swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. When she spoke her voice was soft, “Lily.”

“I’ll never see you again if I do.”

Emma stopped crying abruptly. Lily was right. Emma hadn’t even thought of that. If Lily went home she’d never see her again…or Elijah for that matter. But why the hell did she care if she never saw Elijah again? Her heart was beating against her t-shirt, she could see it. She didn’t know where else to look. Emma was embarrassed and worried.

Elijah’s voice broke their conversation. “Mom, I think Lil should stay here.”

Debra Wood gasped, nearly choking on all her tears. “Elijah! I---”

“Mom,” stated Lily evenly, her tears gone. “I want to stay here. I’m comfortable here. I don’t want to be home. Not now. I don’t think I have enough strength to even make it there.”

Emma knew this was a lie. Lily, despite the cancer, was the strongest person she’d ever known. She doubted there had been a time that Lily had EVER been weak. She envied that. And respected it.

Emma watched, with blurred vision, the scene in front of her. Debra Wood was embracing Lily like her life depended on it (which it probably did at the time) and Elijah was watching them with watery eyes. She reached up and put a hand on top of his hand. Elijah looked down at her and smiled. Then he mouthed, ‘thank you’ before turning back to his sister and mother. She squeezed his hand slightly in response.

“Has Lily always been this headstrong?” Emma asked Elijah, watching as he kicked at some grass with the tip of his sneaker.

Elijah laughed, “Yes. Always. She’s been pushing me around since she was an infant.”

“She said she doesn’t see you much…”

“She doesn’t,” he replied quickly. “I’m always busy…always working.” He sighed heavily, looking out across the choppy ocean water. It was just a little windy, but the water still held huge waves. “Sometimes I regret that. I haven’t had much chance to really get to know her.” He sighed again, Emma could tell he was hurting.

Emma reached out and lay a comforting hand on his arm; he looked at her quickly and then smiled. She was surprised at herself…for more than one reason.

“I miss her,” he confided seriously. “I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like without her.”

“I know,” agreed Emma. “I wondered that myself.”

“You’ve gotten really close since you’ve gotten here,” he remarked.

“Yeah. She’s like a sister to me. I’m an only child, so----” Her voice dropped off. She didn’t want to say anymore about her life.

“What?” Elijah asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

Emma shook her head vigorously. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Elijah eyed her curiously. “Do you need to talk? I mean, I’m a great listener. If you feel the need.”

“Thanks,” she replied hastily. “But I’m fine. I do enough talking about myself already.”

Elijah nodded like he understood. Which, really, he probably did having done so many interviews over the span of his career. After a moment of silent contemplation, Elijah turned towards her, “How long is treatment?”

“I have another three months as long as I actually confide.” Emma rolled her eyes but she wasn’t looking at him.

Elijah was regarding her with great interest, “I meant Lily’s. Today.”

“OH!” She felt like an idiot. “Sorry. About another twenty minutes, I think.”

Elijah nodded. “Does this feel like jail to you?”

“No,” she shuddered. “I’ve seen jail…this is about three, four steps above that. At good times.”

Elijah chuckled appreciatively even though he didn’t understand the full meaning behind her statement. She was glad he hadn’t caught on to her cynical tone. “Jail sentence though.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Definitely. A five month mental sentence.” Emma sighed. “I’m not insane, you know. Just…just messed up.”

Elijah would have laughed at the irony if she hadn’t sounded so dead serious. “I am insane. I see nothing wrong with it, to tell you the truth. I pretend for a living. I mean, come on…really.”

A laugh escaped her lips, “Yeah I suppose.” She paused and her voice became serious, “I don’t like being abnormal.”

Elijah looked at her sharply, his features soft. “I like that you are.” There was so much honesty coming out of his voice that she finally looked at him, really LOOKED at him. He grinned slightly, “I mean…who wants to be friends with someone who has 2.5 kids, a white picket fence and a perfect life? What do you complain about to them that they can actually sympathize about?”

Shrugging, Emma hooked her fingers on the belt loops of her jeans. “How right you are, Elijah.” She smiled at him. “I witnessed a murder,” she blurt out. “I’m not clinically insane just yet…just…not myself anymore.”

Elijah was staring at her, hard, his blue eyes boring into hers. Her eye contact wavered, but he reached out and put a hand on her arm. She stared back at him apprehensively. She figured this was it, he was going to run from her just like everyone else. But, surprisingly, he stayed put. “How can you go through hell and still come out the same? Unharmed, unscarred. Normal.”

Emma shrugged and let out a little sigh of relief. “No one else shares that view.”

“Well, then they’re blind. Because I’ve been through some crap in my life…not murder…but you know…stuff. I have the utmost respect for you. You’ve lived through whatever it is and you still manage to be sweet and caring. You must be an amazing person.”

“I suppose I once was,” she admitted reluctantly.

“No,” he replied sternly. “You still are.”