Owned by his Guilt

The hospital never slept. Fluorescent lights buzzed over the head of Eleanor who walked down the corridor, her white coat swinging behind her as a silent statement of determination and a symbol of honor. Night shifts was calm as usual, no hissy fit flying past, no raised voices. Just the constant beeping of monitors and the slight murmuring of nurses talking to one another at nurses station. She liked nights. They were predictable. Controlled. Life, lately, was not. "Dr. Cargill," in a softly raised voice, as Eleanor passed. "Room twelve's pain has settled down. Vitals are stable.” "Good," said Eleanor automatically. "Keep him on observation for another hour." Her voice was steady. It always was. Years of training had taught her to be able to compartmentalize - that is, to hold other people's lives together even as her own felt thin and frayed. She was at the end of the corridor when her phone was shaken in her pocket. Once. She ignored it. Twice. Her steps slowed. Personal calls during rounds were usually nothing urgent. Her boyfriend complaining that she worked too much. Her sister asking her for money again. Her father reminding coldly that five years was a long time to stay away. A third time the cell phone vibrated. Something in her chest tightened up. Eleanor swiveled and entered the stair well the door closed behind her with a heavy thud that had echoed down the concrete shaft. It was cooler there, stagnant and very quiet. She answered. “Ellie,” her sister whispered. Adeline voice was wrong. Too soft. Too careful. Like she was afraid that the words would themselves might break something. She clamped down the grip of her phone. “What happened?” Silence stretched. Long enough for dread so to bloom And in that pause before she spoke again, she knew. It sounded as if she was speaking in a strange language when she stated "Mom is gone". That can't be, she thought. Mercy might not have been spared the words, but it was there; She felt something empty in her chest, as though something great had been stolen, and there was air and panic in its place. The stairwell tilted. Or maybe she did. Eleanor went blindly feeling for the railing of metal until her fingers took purchase. The cold burned her skin as if to remind her that she was standing. Still breathing. "Gone how?" she asked the question - it was absurd even as it passed her lips. Another pause. Adeline swallowed hard. Eleanor could hear it. “She collapsed," said her sister. “At home. They rushed her to a clinic, but . . . they tried, the doctors tried everything but she didn’t make it.” Some are saying it was poison, but Dad doesn't want to push that theory much." "You know how he is" One long shaky breath rattled the air out of Eleanor. "Po—poison!!! What are you even saying. How is that possible?" she said disoriented. "And what do you mean Dad don't want to push that theory. What's going on ?" "I do not know what to tell you, everything is so mixed up now." Her mother - strong - stubborn - always saying she was okay - gone. They went into her ears but didn't want to live in her head. Gone where? Gone how? Gone did not belong to her mother. Her mother was through enough already, fighting for her family anyway she knew how. Protection from her father if the rules seemed to be too much to bear and now she couldn't believe this was the end. "I was not there for her," Eleanor whispered. Five years away. Five years worth of postponed visits. Five years telling herself there would be more time. There was little to doubt the nature of tomorrow. “Ellie?” Adeline’s voice cracked. “Dad wants you home.” Her phone buzzed again before Eleanor could say anything in response. Call waiting. Her father. She hadn't spoken to him in over 5 years and with good reason, her breath held in such a way as tho she forgotten to exhale, a quiet warning she didn't want to even listen to. "I'll call you back," Eleanor said numbly, closing off the call with her sister and answering the next. “Come home,” her father said. No comfort. No grief in his tone. Just even to the point of severity, harsh, and unyielding. “We’ll talk when you arrive.” The line went dead. She always hated the feeling of being told what to do especially by him of all people but this time she didn't want to fight it. Eleanor stared at the phone long after the phone screen turned black. Her legs gave way, and she sank down on the concrete step, . . . Her chest hurt. Not sharply—dully. Like something heavy had fallen on it and would not budge. She didn't know how long she sat there before the stairwell door creaked and opened. “Eleanor?” She looked up. Dr. Kline stood there and there was an air of concern on his weary face. He'd been on nights nearly as long as she had. "Ohhh so this is where you have been hiding." "You disappeared mid-round," he said gently. “Is everything okay?” The question almost killed her. “No,” she said honestly. He got closer, said in a lower tone. “What happened?” “My mother died.” The words sounded unreal even now Dr. Kline's expression changed instantly, to a soft one. “I’m so sorry.” A nurse stood in the background with a sympathetic look on her face. “Oh, miss…” “I need to leave,” Eleanor said. “Now.” "Of course," he replied without hesitation. “I’ll cover your patients. Don't worry”. She gave a nod, thankful as well as empty. She walked back across the ward and the nurses she passed appeared to sense that something had changed. “Doctor?" one of them said in a low voice. “Are you alright? Eleanor forced a small nod. “I will be.” It was a lie that she had told herself her whole life. She dumped her clipboard, took off her coat and went out of the hospital doors to the cool air of night. The city continued to push around her - the cars, lights, the life of the city had no bearing on her loss. She got to her car, opened the door and sat in it for a moment with her hands on the steering wheel. Then the tears came. Silent.Uncontrollable. She wiped her face and started the engine pulling out onto the road. She was going home. And she herself did not know how much awaited her.Everything in her life was going to be different.