The next morning I stood in front of the mirror rubbing the black and blue bruise on the side of my face. Whats going to happen to us now? Today we have a meeting to decide the fate of me and September. Breakfast was silent. None of us talked, not even hyper Marissa, who seemed more depressed than excited today. September was still locked in that room. My pain made my breakfast taste bland and my heart feel empty.
After breakfast, I prepared myself to call my father and explain what happened. The phone rang and I was shaking with anticipated. "Hello?" He answered.
"Dad." My voice cracked.
"Whats wrong." He said, anxiously.
"Something bad happened last night."
I could hear panic consume his voice. "Violet, tell me what happened. Did one of the patients hurt you.?"
"No, dad. I got in a fight with the workers. They took my friends stuffed animal away and she was having an anxiety attack and I did yell at them. Maybe too much. Maybe I crossed the line. But the one worker, Daniel, punched me in the face."
"He did what?" He yelled.
"It gets worse. Since he hit me, my friend September panicked and attacked him, dad. It was bad. There was blood everywhere. September really hurt him." My voice cracked again, and I pretended it was a cough.
"I'm going to call them right away!" He explained. "And you don't need to be around boys that violent!"
"He was defending me, dad!"
"Violet," He froze for a moment. "Never try to find love in a psych ward, okay? They are full of crazy people."
"Crazy people like me dad. I was the crazy one."
After arguing for a moment, I gave up and hung up on him. He's not going to stop me from seeing September and he shouldn't call the front desk because it will only make matters worse. Next, it was time for group. We sat down at out table and patiently waited to see if September was going to show it. He did. I walked right into the room, a completely different person than the boy I new before. He stood straight up, hair a mess, clothes torn, with a smile on his face. He looked confident.
"Good morning!" He pretended to lead the group. "Today, the therapist is going to force us to talk about the fight that occurred last night in the hallway. You're welcome." My eyes widened. He's talking? Loud... to everyone in the building. He's not shy. What's happening?
"Hello, September." The therapist said. "I was going to talk about it but maybe you should."
He stood up. "Yesterday, a heartless son of a bitch stole a stuffed panda from a mentally ill young woman. Yesterday, the same poor excuse for a man punched a beautiful girl. Yesterday, I took action."
"But why?" The therapist asking.
"Because I have morals." He explained. "It's not that I'm crazy, it's that I will not stand for poor actions from workers in a facility that is suppose to help sick people."
"Are you saying your violence was acceptable?" She crossed her arms.
"No, but I couldn't help myself. He hit Violet!" He stated, sternly. "And I love her.." He trailed off.
My jaw dropped. "What?" I interrupted.
"I love you, Violet. You shouldn't have been hurt." He said. The therapist asked him to take a seat and spent the rest of the group going back over anger management, which obviously I couldn't pay attention to because the September just confessed his love for me.
After group, we were called to the office. Inside were the doctor and the therapist who just ran group. "Do you know why you're here?" The doctor asked.
"Well, no shit." September responded.
"You're finally talking?" The doctor replied. "That seems like progress for you're health but you still might get sent to a psych ward for the violent patients."
"You can't do that!" I said. "He's not violent. He was defending me."
He turned to September. "You broke his nose and fractured her face in 2 other places. Not to mention he lost 4 teeth." The doctor crossed his arms. "I would consider that dangerously violent."
"I don't think he will do it again, doctor." The therapist stated.
The doctor clenched his fists. "Are you insinuating that he should stay?"
"I'm saying that as his therapist, I know he is not dangerous enough to be put in a high-security ward." She crossed her arms.
"I'm the boss here." He said.
"And I spend constant time with these patients and I know that he means well."
The doctor threw his pen down on his desk. "Everybody get out off my office!" He yelled.
As we walked out, the therapist whispered to us. "That mean he can stay." She stated. I sighed with relief.
At dinner, we explained to our friends that we were in the clear. It was strange listening to September's real voice. It was no longer a mere whisper, it was now the dominate voice at the table.
"You did quite a number on Daniel." Jemma said, looking at September, concerned.
"After my baby brother passed away, both my parents became raging alcoholics." He explained. "I spent most of my days hiding in my room, listening to Cathedral Falls and other depressing music to drown out the sound of their screams. Until my dad decided to beat my mother. Then I about beat the life out of him." We all felt so sad for September. "Before my brother passed," He began playing with his Pokemon bracelet. "we had a happy, normal family. I remember it like it was yesterday. We lived in a blue and brick split level house. I was sitting in the driveway with my brother trying to help him fix his bike. He had crashed it and got a cut on his forehead and my mom patched him up. It was this first day that I felt like I was actually being a role model for him. Then my dad called us in for dinner and we all sat at the tablet together eating bake mac-n-cheese, talking about how are days went. We'd laugh until we cried because my father made the funniest jokes. I had a very happy family until my brother passed." He took another bite of his food.
"I'm so sorry." Jemma said. The rest of the lunch we were quiet. I couldn't help but feel awkward around September.
It was time for group and we made sure to pay good attention because of the favor the therapist has done for us. Today was my lucky day, we were practicing not only meditation, but yoga. We started cross-legged on the floor, hands in our laps. The therapist talked us back up to our mountains. It was my happy place. I felt like I could actually breathe up there and all my problems were gone. All I could here was September saying "I love you,Violet.' on repeat. My hair blew in the cool breeze and all my feelings floated away. I felt calm and collected. Next, she had us doing yoga poses, starting with forward bends. Sit on the floor, stretch one leg outward and reach for it, as far as you can. I was learning that I wasn't very flexible. Next pose we did was the downward- facing dog. The hand to foot pose, which I failed out because I couldn't lift my leg up that high. I was almost embarrassed at my skills because I knew September was there, not that he was doing much better than me, but when I glanced at Jemma, I realized she must have been doing yoga for years, she was absolutely perfect. Next, we did the cat pose, probably the easiest and it felt good on my back. The therapist didn't seem to have a real routine set up for us. It appeared that she was just throwing out random poses. "Everybody take a deep breath in," She would say. "and release." I actually felt a lot better ofter the yoga. I didn't realize how many days I had been sitting around doing nothing until she actually got me to move.
After group, it was time for movie night. It was my turn to pick the movie so I insisted we watch Eat, Pray, Love. One of my favorites. September walked back in with his bible and sat next to me. We read Matthew for about twenty minutes before he interrupted. "Listen, V, I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you at morning group."
"And I'm really sorry if my yoga skills made you second guess yourself." I joked.
"I'm serious," He said. "I would rather be locked away in here with the crazy girl with purple hair than go home."
"But why?" I gulped.
"You're strong, beautiful, and your personality is just wild." He combed his fingers threw his hair. "And I know you could never imagine somebody genuinely loving you, or you wounding be in here, but I love you. I love you for your anger and your horrible sarcasm. I love you because of the day you held Jemma in your arms while she cried and I love you for defending Marissa, a girl who's too unstable to defend herself. What happened last night? I'd do it all again for you."
"I just, um, I can't believe you're suddenly talking." I said, awkwardly. I had no clue how to respond. I looked over at Marissa and Everett, who were holding hands. "Aren't they just the cutest thing?"
"Yeah, they are." He replied, smiling. "You know, you're recovered."
"I don't want to leave here." I blurted out. "Not without you."
He turned toward me and brushed his fingers through my hair, kissing me softly. I breathed him in. I'll never forget the feeling. The moment was perfect, including the nurse who screamed at us afterwards for public display of affection.
I went to bed that night thinking about what he said. Am I recovered? Will I go home a relapse back to my old ways? Earlier, I would have given anything to go home, but now I'm not so sure. What if I never see him again? Maybe this hospital is just pushing us together, but will it all fall apart. I wonder what he's thinking about right now.
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