Shades Of Purple

Chapter 8- Fractured

Elias stared blankly at the hospital wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs as if holding himself together. His knuckles were pale. His expression was empty.

Across the room, the doctor spoke in a calm, measured tone, explaining the procedure to Kim. She nodded as tears streamed down her face, barely processing the words. Tubes. Blood loss. Surgery. Monitoring. The terms felt distant and unreal.

Elias had taken too long in the restroom that night. At first, she laughed, teasing him about hiding from the noise. Then the minutes dragged on. Something in her chest tightened.

When she pushed the door open, she found him collapsed on the tiled floor. Blood stained the sink and spread across the white tiles.

The doctors believed the wound suggested self-infliction. The angle. The depth. The hesitation marks.

What if I never asked him to come out?

What if I followed him sooner?

The questions would not stop. Guilt pressed against her ribs. She had wanted him to clear his head. Instead, he lay in a hospital bed, fragile and distant.

She twisted her fingers together until her nails dug into her skin.

Who did this to him?

Elias had mentioned “they” when he spoke about the assault. But this felt different. Or was it connected?

She had asked for a private room. She had noticed the way his body tensed whenever someone moved—the trembling hands at subtle sounds like the flush of a toilet or the click of metal. How frantic he became when someone raised their voice slightly. He even had to change his attending nurses and doctors to females.

Kim knew her comfort and words were only partial ground for him. This heightened her guilt as she struggled for ways to help him get better.

When the doctors stepped out, the room fell silent.

Kim slowly crouched beside the bed and placed her hands over his feet. He did not react.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Tears fell freely now.

“I should never have asked you to go out. This is my fault.”

“It’s okay,” Elias murmured.

His eyes never left the wall. He stared at it as if it held something beautiful only he could see. A faint smile curved his lips.

The doctors had said it was a defense mechanism.

To Kim, it felt like he was slipping somewhere she could not reach.

Kelvin stood outside the door.

He had arrived earlier that morning. Two days ago, he had gone back to the bar because Elias still had him blocked and would not answer his calls. He used a new number. The bartender mentioned that someone had tried to kill himself in the restroom but had been discovered in time.

When Kelvin heard the name in the register, his heart nearly stopped.

Now he stood outside the room, watching Kim attend to him through the glass.

Elias’s face showed no emotion. That small, distant smile sat on his lips. Kelvin recognized it immediately. It was not peace. It was withdrawal.

This version of Elias looked worn down. Fragile. Like something that could dissolve if touched.

It could not be because of what happened in the bathroom, Kelvin told himself.

As Kim stepped out of the room, Kelvin moved back into the hallway, out of sight. He had not planned to listen, but her voice carried.

“Mum, I’m sorry. It was my fault. I forced him to go out. What if he doesn’t heal? The doctors said he needs surgery. That bastard assaulted him.”

Her voice shook. She struggled to breathe through the tears.

Kelvin felt something tighten in his chest. Not anger. Not irritation. Something unfamiliar.

A nurse approached Kim and spoke gently about the importance of the colostomy, about recovery and long-term care.

Kim broke down again.

Through the glass door, Elias remained in the same position, staring at the wall, smiling at nothing.

Kelvin waited until the hallway cleared. Then he stepped inside.

“Eli,” he called softly.

His steps were careful. He had only planned to look through the glass, but something pushed him forward. He needed to see him up close.

“Eli,” he whispered again.

Elias recognized the voice. Slowly, his eyes shifted from the wall and met Kelvin’s.

The monitors began to beep faster.

Elias’s body tensed. His breathing turned sharp and uneven. Suddenly, he erupted, shouting without words, his voice raw and broken.

Kelvin moved toward him, trying to hold him still as panic consumed him.

“Calm down,” he said, but the monitors grew louder the more he touched him.

“Code blue!” someone shouted from the hallway.

Within seconds, nurses rushed in.

“What did you do?” one of them yelled, pulling Kelvin back.

Elias thrashed, his heart rate spiking wildly on the screen.

“Get him out of here!”

Kim stood frozen outside the door, sobbing as they dragged Kelvin into the corridor.

“I’m sorry, Eli,” he muttered, his voice barely audible as they forced him away.

Once Elias was stabilized, Kelvin turned to leave, but Kim grabbed his wrist. Her eyes searched his, questions unspoken.

“It’s not what you think,” he said, panic rising.

“Was it you?” she asked, wiping tears.

Kelvin’s eyes flicked to the hallway. “I… I have to go.”

“Just tell me it wasn’t you,” she pleaded.

He tried to maintain composure, but the tension made him falter. “If it was me, do you think I’d be here?” he snapped, voice loud enough for others to hear. “What did you take me for?”

The guilt in his eyes betrayed him.

“Kelvin, you alright?” Dami’s voice called.

Kim stepped back. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” she said.

Kelvin exhaled, but his legs felt frozen.

“Hey man,” Dami said, pulling him back to reality. “It’s okay.”

The scene replayed in Kelvin’s mind. The panic, Elias’s face, the monitors.

Outside the hospital, Dami spoke first.

“Kelvin? How long have we been friends?”

His words surprised Kelvin.

“What’s wrong? Why ask that?”

Dami stared blankly. “I saw the guilt in your eyes outside that door. Did something happen between you two?”

Kelvin panicked, forcing a calm tone. “No. Nothing.”

“What about the incident at your house? Did he really force himself on you?”

Kelvin lowered his head. Dami understood.

“So you watched everything happen to him and said nothing?”

“You accused an innocent man of s****l assault,” Dami continued. “And then, at the bar, you belittled him and humiliated your girlfriend for defending him?”

The words cut through Kelvin, but he could not fully understand the pain he caused.

He turned to walk away, but Dami’s next words held him in place.

“I pray this wasn’t done by you. I understand being afraid of labels, but I hope you’re not the reason he needs a colostomy.”

“I’m not gay,” Kelvin muttered. “I’m not attracted to him. I like women.”

Dami nodded. “Whatever you say.”

Kelvin repeated to himself as he walked to his car, the unease in his chest refusing to fade.

The ride home was long and silent. He could not stop replaying Elias’s face in the hospital, the lost spark, the fragility.

How could a person lose that light in just three days?

He remembered the restroom incident. He had known there was a tear, but he had not expected it to be this severe.

Elias’s pleading words echoed in his mind: what if he had stopped when told him it hurt?

Kim sat alone in the waiting area, her hands pressed against her thighs. Her chest trembled; every sound made her jolt. She kept thinking about how it must have been for Elias.

She replayed the moment she found him in that restroom.

What if she had waited longer?

Would she have been too late to get to him?

She thought about the man she saw in his room. Who was he?

Why had Elias reacted so strongly to him?

The tension in his eyes, his clutched fists when she spoke to him—did it mean he knew who had done this?

A nurse approached, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Elias is stable now,” she said softly, wearing that professional smile. “Let’s try and keep him calm. The next twenty-four hours are crucial. We don’t want him overwhelmed.”

Kim nodded slowly, wishing she had an idea how to keep him calm.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her.