Free Envisioning Hope by Tracy Lee

my arm back and forth quickly as to not run into anything. I was overcome
with emotions, I couldn't even point one of them out directly. I was pissed
that I was the only one left to have to deal with the loss, I was fucking livid
that I had to relive that night over again. I was beyond miserable because I
have to live without them and because I had to live that night over
again. "I can't even look at your pictures!" I screamed as I came
upon the small table in the corner that housed a small AM/FM radio. I kept that
one on continuously because it was close to my bed. I heaved it across the
room, listening as it hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces. I began
walking across the room to where another radio sat and repeated the process.
    "Why?!"
I shrieked at the top of my lungs.
    "Why
couldn't you just stop and look?" I said to no one, but waited for anyone
to answer as I continued on my destructive rampage. Hitting a small table, I
picked up the CD player that played one CD over and over. Not anymore it didn't.
I was so busy destroying items, I didn't hear the door open. Out of nowhere, I
was picked up, thrown down on my bed, and pricked in the arm.
    "Why
couldn't he have just loo–"
    That
was all I got out before I couldn't hear my scratchy voice anymore.
     
    *
* *
     
    "Listen
to me, doc, she knows I'm coming," I reiterated in a slightly louder tone.
I had been fighting with Doc Underwood for almost twenty minutes now with a
handful of clothes and two pairs of slip-on shoes that I had to carry in my
arms since they didn't allow any types of bags in here.
    "And,
I'm telling you, Ollie, she's not even awake to respond to you. She had an…"
I could tell he was scared to say something he would regret. He wanted her out
of here, but if anything that dealt with the word "breakdown" or "suicide
watch" came up, especially in one of my reports, there was no way in hell
she would ever make it out.
    And
he would have to deal with her forever…and ever…
    His
slight cough brought me back to the conversation. "…Incident the other
night. She had to be sedated and she's resting. Give her ‘till tomorrow, Ollie.
I'll make sure she's ready." I looked at my watch. I had already made two
trips to this hospital and still hadn't begun my initial assessment.
    Well,
I had, but I couldn't turn that in because they'd lock her up and throw away
the key. Thinking back to the when the doctor put seven stitches in the back of
my head, I fought against whether or not I should include that in my notes.
    I
decided against it.
    "I'm
comin' back tomorrow morning, doc, and she better be ready to go. Here…I'm
leaving these. Saves me from having to lug them all back in here a second time."
    Doc
Underwood looked at me and tipped the right side of his mouth up as he nodded
once. He wasn't gonna give me a full smile, but he knew that I was smart enough
not to run around in public with white bras and panties that just might catch
the wind a certain way and blow off the pile of women's jeans.
    That's
all I needed.
    I
walked back out to my car and opened the door. I slid inside and scrubbed my
face with my hands. I was so frustrated with this whole situation. The lady
didn't want any help, especially from me, so why wouldn't they just let her do
what she wanted? What harm was she doing? She was either going to die from heat
exhaustion from all of those damn lamps, or end up going deaf from the fucking
radios.
    I
really didn't see her being a nuisance. She was like a bumble bee; as long as
you left her alone, she wouldn't sting you. I rubbed my hand over the back of
my head where I could feel the physical evidence of her sting.
    "Just
like every other one of your clients, she deserves to live again, Ollie,"
I said to myself, answering my own question.
    Hope
Saxton was empty inside. Just a hallowed shell, a vegetable, autonomically
responding to the environment around her. That was no way to live. I opened up
her file that was lying on the passenger