#21 – Previous parts in the serie can be found here. A weekly blog post where I share pieces of Mia’s story and journey (as I’m currently writing the novel!).
They say the truth will set you free, but they leave out the part where it’ll first hurt and shatter everything. I rather hold on to the lie a little while longer, for ignorance is bliss.
I didn’t expect nor prepare but then who in their right minds would. In the aftermath, silence and tranquility transforms itself into despair as I now find myself in a frantic state of mind. Every inch of me is trembling. It doesn’t take long before chaos erupts in the entire room, all in the midst of life and death. I’m able to move as my body stays frozen, like an image stuck in time; I feel numb. And in all blurriness, I notice blood on my hands from my attempt to stop the bleeding. The wall behind me, where I once stood in her room becomes my support and I watch, steps away, her motionless body as they try to bring her back. So far, no response but she’s yet to be gone. I notice more blood as they remove the towels I had wrapped around her wrist. Worst now becomes the reality I find myself in and in an instant it all changes and darkness reveals its true color.
“When did she cut herself?” she asks, and as a paramedic I’m sure she’s used to dealing with people in shock but from the look on her face, she’s hoping that I was still wearing my professional hat – set aside human emotions and provide her great insight.
“I..I..don’t know,” I stutter, hearing my words I can immediately hear the lack of certainty. For at some point, in all stillness, I stopped checking for the time. You know the saying, it’s always quiet before the storm hits? Well, the storm still rages on as the troubled girl I once held in my arms battles for her life; for a second chance, her return.
It’s all chaotic, madness even. On the floor, I’m in utter shock and attempting to process every small movement and every word while it all plays out in my head, but with all good reason everything seems to be operating at a faster pace. And unable to keep up, I rest on the realization that they know what they are doing. They have to, in order to save her.
“Emma, can you hear us?”
“Stay with us, Emma!”
As they call out her name, a tiny sense of hope compels my attention. But it doesn’t drown my helplessness, fear and trauma. If only I’d stayed by her side; wishing to turn back time floods the novelty of hope. It’s plain to see that time is crucial and I decide there’s no time to wallow in self-pity reminding myself the nightshift is not completely over and I’m still at work. I collect the courage and get myself back on my feet and aim at being of use to the boys who I’m sure are also affected by all of this.
As I make my way to the hallway, leaving the action behind, I bump into Sara who’s on the phone. As Emma’s primary contact at the house, she holds the responsibility to notify next of kin. In the midst of it all I must admit my first and only caller was Nicholas, not owing the fact that he’s office manager. As I approach her, I suspect it’s not Emma’s father on the other end who she’s talking to. As our eyes meet, she slowly nods at my direction with a firm look (the kind of looks that teacher give a kid as punishment for something they’ve done) and mouths ‘hello’. At my poor attempt of returning the same gesture I manage to draw a forced smile. Luckily, her focus shifts back to her conversation.
“…I agree, she’ll have to be admitted if it all goes well. It’s too risky to have her stay here.”
And just like that, as she fights for her life, her fate is now being decided as well as the duplicity of life tests my will. What’s my next move?
“…we’ll notify her father right away. Hold on. Mia! Perhaps, you can do that?!”