Who You Are

three | middle of starting over

It's a Wednesday, the day before I'm to be released from this hospital. One day to figure out a plan, to figure out where I go from here. Mrs. Baker, my case worker, has been working tirelessly to find me a foster home that "wont be as awful as the last one". Little does she know, that all the houses have their secrets and their dark corners. I've been through enough to know. We got away with a written statement instead of a meet and greet with the detectives. Saying the words out loud in front of all those people is so much harder than writing it down on paper.

I've also gotten to the point where I'm no longer hooked to an IV drip and checked forty eight times in a day if my blood pressure is stable. The nurses come and go and all I do is watch television, eat the hospital food, and stare out the window. I have no desire to pursue anything else. It's even a feat to get myself up to go to the restroom.

I'm standing at the window, arms wrapped around each other, shoulder laying against the pane and my eyes trained to the people below in the courtyard. I'm lost inside my head. Reliving painful memories, as well as the good.

I'm brought from my head as a knock sounds on the door, they wait for me to mumble a come in before they do. Several people walk into the room, all in single file until the last one enters. Dr. Rhodes smiles at me encouragingly and Mrs. Baker has a giant smile on her face. But it's the older lady that grabs my attention. She's crying. Tears are falling freely down her face as she steps closer to me, and out of habit, I step back.

"I finally found you," she says, reaching a hand to cup my cheek. Though I flinch from her touch, I look into her eyes. She's exhausted, and devastated, but she's happy. Her eyes ignite with a warmth, and she takes in me as well. We each take a moment to stare, and I'm hit with the sudden realization that she looks so familiar. Like I've seen her before somewhere.

"Willow, dear. This is Greta Pierce, your grandmother. She's going to be taking you home with her," interrupts Mrs. Baker. I look at her suddenly, surprised at what she says. I was told that all of my family were dead.

"Grandmother?" I whisper softly. "I didn't know I-I-I had one."

Greta whimpers, dabbing at her cheeks to wash away the tears that are slowly leaking. "You have a father who was just as surprised to learn about you. We've been searching for you for years."

My heart patters with a mixture of hurt, and happiness. I'm scared, and nervous but excited to know that I'm not as alone as I've always thought.

"A-a father?" I stutter. My whole head is racing around in circles, and I'm worried I'm going to get off this roller coaster ride with even more mental problems. I stare at her for a while, taking in her wrinkled face, pulled back creamy, white hair, and laugh lines. She's short, shorter than me by inches. She's exactly what I pictured a grandmother to be.

"Yes deary, a father who is trying so hard to make it back here to you," she replies. I stare at her in wonder. Wondering how in the world this is all possible. How could I have a whole family, this whole time, and not know anything about them? I'm wondering who else there is. Cousins? Uncles? Aunts? A Grandpa?

I can't do anything but continue to stare at her, and the tension in the room starts to suffocate. She looks at me with a giant, tear filled smile and turns toward the doctor and Mrs. Baker, figuring out the details of my release tomorrow. All the while, I sit here is silence. Hardly listening to anything they're saying as I twiddle with the edge of my gown and contemplate what this all means.

"Is that okay deary?" a voice interrupts. I look up briefly, catching Greta's gaze before looking back down at my fingers.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't hear you?" I reply, in the form of a question rather than a statement. I don't tear my gaze from the frayed edges my fingers have fumbled with. I just listen to the shuffle of feet and the feel the dip of the bed next to me.

"I was just telling Mrs. Baker, and Dr. Rhodes how I think it's best I get you some new clothes to leave in, give you a good night to rest and then I'll be here to pick you up once discharge is set," she replies carefully. "We've got a bit of travel to get where we're going."

I look at her then. "where are we g-going?" I ask.

"California darling. You're going to love it. We live right on the beach," she replies, giving me a large smile. Elation powers through me. I'm surprised and completely exhilarated at the thought of California, and of getting out of this place. I nod my head, and stare down at my hands again. They bustle about, signing papers and setting up discharge, all while I continue to stare out the window.

Eventually the room slowly starts to clear, and Greta stands in the left corner. Staring at me as I stare out the window. I look to her briefly, noting the compassion and love that flits across her eyes. We lock for a moment, neither of us moving. Neither of us talking. Just staring and memorizing each other down to every molecule.

Her phone makes us both jump, and with a simple apology she reaches into her purse and accepts. She answers with a hello and a look at me as she talks.

"Hi my love, I'm so glad you called!" she says. "I'm sitting here with a very special girl, and I have to say, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

I blush, looking at my hands once more. I'm wondering who she praises me too, and how she can so casually throw a compliment like its nothing. I watch her as she paces the room, and listen to her side of the conversation.

"Yes, she's doing well."

"Oh, Axe. There's so much."

"Yes, I know honey."

"Don't worry about that now, worry about getting home so you can meet her."

She looks towards me after listening to the other person for a second. "She looks just like her."

I don't need to know who she's talking about. I've always been told that I looked like my mother. With a few off features that are sure to come from my father. The father I didn't even know about. The father I always imagined.

"She's discharged tomorrow. I'll be flying home with her."

"I'll let her know."

"Yes, dear."

"Okay. I love you so much."

"Bye honey."

She ends her call and turns to face me. Sadness flitters across her features as she breathes a deep breath. "That was your father. He got a little caught up, but he wanted me to tell you that he's working as hard as he can and he can't wait to meet you."

I look out the window, then down to my fingers that fiddle with my gown, and back to her. My nerves are jumbled, my mind is a mess, and I have no idea how to handle this sudden onslaught of emotions that race through my veins.

"Wh-where is he?" I ask quietly, looking away.

She sits on the bed next to me, and I have to suppress the urge to flinch. "He is part of an organization known as 'Doctor's Without Borders', he travels to other countries and helps alongside the Red Cross in aiding disaster zones and heavily ill areas. Right now he's in Southeast Africa aiding in the fight against AIDS," she replies. "He's trying so hard to get back here to you."

The trees outside are blowing in a light breeze. The sky darkens the room in an off grey, and the atmosphere seems cold. I'm nervous to meet him. Anxiety grips my throat in a tight embrace, and my stomach knots as I think about it. I wonder what he'd think of me. I wonder why my mother never spoke of him. And I wonder why we had all this lost time behind us.

"I'm going to head out and get everything situated for tomorrow, okay?" Greta says, standing from beside me. "Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?"

I shake my head, wincing slightly at the still sore bruise that takes up my whole body. She pats the cast on my right arm with a bright smile and bids me goodbye. I can't do anything but watch her leave, knowing she'll return in the morning to take me to my new life. The seconds the door clicks shut I feel the overwhelming sensation of being lonely. I didn't realize how much Greta being here took my mind off of everything. Her presence filled the void somewhat, it kept my mind busy. It kept me from self destructing.

It's takes a lot of willpower to tell myself that she will be back. And the hours will shrink by so quickly, that I wont even notice.

That's what I try to tell myself anyway.

* * * * * 

The sun filters through the window and warms across my face. I look outside it with a squint and wonder what time it is. I'm not thinking long, before a knock sounds on the door and Joyce, the older nurse that has taken care of me, enters the room. She holds a tray in her hands and scoots her feet to plant it on the table beside me.

"Good morning dear," she says joyfully. "Dr. Rhodes will be around in about an hour to talk with you and go over your paperwork. We went ahead and let Mrs. Pierce know, so she should be here momentarily. I also went ahead and grabbed you some breakfast."

"Thank you," I reply softly, not quite so coherent as I stifle a yawn. "What time is it?"

"It's a quarter passed eight," she replies. "It's time to take your medications, so I figured I'd bring you some food to help absorb it." she shrugs. I nod my head slightly, removing the lid from the dome and seeing a small portion of scrambled eggs, three slices of sausage and a fruit bowl. "How are you feeling today?"

"Uhm, okay. My arm hurts a little bit," I reply, looking down at the cast that runs to my elbow.

"I'll put in an order for some pain reliever. No headaches? Nausea? Pain in your abdomen?"

I shake my head at all three. These are the same questions they ask me every day, and every day I tell them the same thing. No. Because the amount of pain that I'm in, doesn't compare to the amount of pain I've been in for the past eleven years.

A knock at the door sounds again, and this time its Greta. She bounds in on happy feet and smiles at me brightly. She clutches two big bags in one hand and a coffee in the other. Keys jangle as she stuffs them into her purse and sets it all down.

"Good morning love, how was your night?" she asks. I shrug. It was long, as it always is. "I just saw Dr. Rhodes in the hall, he'll be in here shortly."

I nod, chewing the sausage as I watch her.

"Would you like to have a shower, and change into some real clothes?" she asks. The moment she says shower, I'm instantly hooked. But it's the moment she says real clothes that dropped the anchor. I throw the blankets off of me and attempt to stand. Both ladies chuckle, and Greta sets a bag on the bed, "I grabbed you some clothes, I guessed on the sizes. I also grabbed you some toiletries, deodorant, toothbrush, shampoo. That kind of thing," she says,

My eyes cloud over in unshed tears for a brief moment at the kind gesture. "Thank you," I whisper, not meeting her eyes.

"Let's get your arm wrapped so it doesn't get wet," Joyce says from beside us. She sticks my arm in a plastic looking bag and tapes it around the end. "Are you going to need any help?"

I shake my head. Again. The shower cascades down my body with a warm hug. It clings to my sore body and washes away the sweat from last nights nightmare. This is the first full shower I've gotten to take since I've been admitted, and I take longer than necessary. The feel of it makes me feel cleaner. It helps me breathe a little deeper as I wash away the still lingering feel of his hands. Not once does the water sputter, or turn cold in the way I'm used too. Dirt doesn't filter through the shower head, and it doesn't vibrate the floor as it sits on. I don't hear the pounding of the door that lets me know my five minutes is up, or stress over the fact that the door doesn't have a lock.

I'm safe here.

I'll be safe from now on.

It doesn't take long for me to finish. I emerge from the bathroom, dressed in a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt. The sports bra and underwear that Greta got fit so much better than I had ever had before. The leggings don't have holes in them and the shirt isn't two sizes too big. I towel dry my hair and throw it in a low ponytail, which proves to be a challenge with only one good arm. I stand in front of Greta, feeling like a whole new person and see her clutching a pair of tan boots in her hands.

"You look so much better love," she says. I smile slightly. "I got you size sevens, I'm hoping they'll fit, you look to be about the same size your mom was and I know she wore a seven."

I look into her eyes, with my own widened and a quickened breathing pattern. She smiles a sad smile and shakes the boots at me. I take them with a careful left hand.

Dr. Rhodes walks in at that time. Holding paperwork that unleashes me into a whole new life.

I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to it or if I'm dreading it.

I settle onto the chair next to the window, slipping the boots on my feet with one hand as I listen to him talk to Greta.

"There are a couple instructions that need to be followed. Firstly, she can't get the cast wet. Second, I have faxed her prescription to the pharmacy you chose, and I have emailed the doctor you picked with all her records. She needs to take the antidepressants every day. She has a Multivitamin that she needs to be on so her body can catch up. I've added a diet plan that will help her metabolism become accustom to a regular one. I'd like to see her in physical therapy to help the pain and stiffness through the body a little better," he says. He looks at me as he says the next part, "I'd also like you to see a counselor. The trauma that you went through can really mess with your day to day life. Talk about it all. Talk about your life, and everything that happened. Talk about the nightmares. And please, take care of yourself."

Greta signs a couple pieces of paper, and shoves the others in her purse. Dr. Rhodes says goodbye. It's bittersweet, leaving him. After everything he's done to help me over the past week, I can't help but feel a sense of loss.

I wouldn't be here without him.

The next hour flits by me. I'm not sure where each moment went, because all I can focus on is the car ride to the airport and the view from the window as the world sits below us.

The life I lived is slowly falling behind. The town that I once called home is now a blip on the map, and I exhale and shaky breathe as I feel the relief of it.

I'll never step foot there again.

I'm in the middle of starting over, I can just feel it.