Read Prescribed (The White Coat Series) Online

Authors: D.D. Parker

Tags: #New Adult Fiction

Prescribed (The White Coat Series) (6 page)

I felt like a year passed me by as I sat on that couch, not moving from the spot I had curled up into. In reality it was probably more like a couple of hours. Hours that passed by in a weird haze that made me feel as though time slowed down. By the second hour, I could already control my sobs and by the third hour, I had regained movement to my muscles. I willed myself to get up and stumbled over to the bathroom. I turned the shower to a scalding level of heat and stepped in, my blue scrubs still on. 

The burning hot water soaked through my clothes and cradled me in a sweet embrace. I slid down to the bottom of the porcelain tub, feeling myself begin to lose control again. Eric had always been bad but today was the worst I had ever seen him. I was never legitimately scared for my life like I had been earlier. It was a sobering thought, thinking I could have been dead just hours ago. And dead by the hands of my one love, my little Eric, the funky monkey I remember from my pre-calculus class. The extra tall highschooler that had a thing for erasable pens and basketball. The one who could say anything and make me bust out laughing. He always did that. He had a knack for making me laugh at the most inopportune times. Like one time during a history test, I had failed that test but I also had to be escorted out because of my uncontrollable laughter. And all because of Eric. My little funky monkey. 

And now he was a grotesque monster. 

I gathered myself again and turned off the water. I needed to leave before Eric came back. I wasn’t sure if he would realize the horrifying acts he just committed or if he would just come back angrier than before, ready to finish it all. I gathered a bag of my clothes, picked up my book bag, and hurried out the still hanging door. Thankfully no one was outside in the courtyard because I was sure that a light pink handprint was still plastered on my face. 

The scarlet mark. 

I took out my phone and dialed the one person I knew would never turn on me; Courtney. 

I managed to get some things across through my shaky voice. Courtney immediately offered to come pick me up but I wanted to have my car with me anyway so I dried my tears and headed out. Courtney didn’t live too far from me but today it took me much less time to get to her house. The whole drive there, my foot slammed onto the pedal, weaving through traffic like a mad man, running through yellow lights on the brink of turning red. One of them finally caught me, making my brakes come screech to a halt. I sat there at the intersection, yelling out into my car, pounding my fists onto the steering wheel. 

Why me? 

Such a selfish term when you really think about it. Why me? Why couldn’t this pain be inflicted on someone else? Why not the little woman at the deli that always served me my perfect sub? Why not the dirty creep that somehow found me at whatever Starbucks I was studying at? Why not my downstairs neighbor who threw weekly ragers and kept me up on numerous nights right before a huge test? 

Why me? 

What a selfish term. 

I knocked on Courtney’s door. I heard her running up to the lock and clicking it open. Her arms immediately circled me. I felt tears threaten to soak her shoulder as I buried my head. 

“Shh... It’s ok. You’re going to be ok now.” 

Her words were so reassuring to hear, even though in the back of my head I knew I was far from being ok. She lifted my face up and wiped away the tears with a soft touch. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” 

I walked over to her velvety pink couch and melted into her huge white throw pillows with black and white illustrations of the Eiffel tower painted on them in sloppy patterns. I threw my head back and let out an exasperated wail as Court brought me over a glass of water. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until the cool liquid quenched the dryness in my throat. It hurt to swallow but what hurt more was the reminder of the whole ordeal. Even now, I was already trying to block it out of my memory, to bury it deep down so that I could live a normal life. 

“Jesus, I could see the outline of his hand,” Court said, looking me over with a deep sadness. I knew it hurt her seeing me like this. And that made me feel guilty. It made me feel dumb for even putting myself in this situation to begin with. 

I should have been smarter.  

But my chunky monkey. 

“It was bad, Court. I’ve never seen him like this.” 

“We need to call the police,” she said as she reached over for her phone. 

“No,” I said immediately, not even thinking about it. “I can’t,” I said, trying to make Courtney understand without me having to say it out loud. 

“Why?! He almost fucking killed you!” 

“Because I still love him!” I shouted, the words tearing through me and taking both of us by surprise. 

“Oh, Em,” Courtney said, scooting over on the couch and resting her head on the top of mine, one arm reaching around and gently running her hand through my still damp hair. We sat there for some time in pure silence, both of us trying to make sense of this whole fucking mess. Courtney sobbed into my shoulder as she felt the weight of it all come down on us both. We both cried, our only way to cope with what was happening. We wanted to be younger again, worrying about what we were packing for lunch and who we were asking out for the middle school dance. Simpler times when Britney Spears still had her sanity and Backstreet was back. 

Both of us sat there in the darkness, and both of us slept there. 

We woke up the next morning, cuddled up together, hiding from the cold in her apartment. Our eyes were puffy and pinkish-red, reacting from the gallons of tears that were spilled out onto the couch last night. The light shining from the window above the couch was becoming too bright for my still sensitive eyes to adjust to. I felt myself tearing up again, triggering the thoughts from last night. The images came flooding back to me and I realized it wasn’t all just some sick nightmare. I guess I had woken up wishing it was a nightmare, but it was far from it. I still felt his threatening grip around my throat, squeezing like a boa constrictor hugging its fluffy white mouse tight. I reached up and touched the sensitive skin, raw from the fiery grasp. 

I choked back a sob, covering my eyes from the bright sun and shuffling over to Courtney’s bedroom. I tossed the teal blue plush sheets up in the air and buried myself underneath their large, comforting folds. The light was obstructed by the thick barrier between myself and the window, allowing me some more piece and quiet before I had to face the world again. Courtney’s sheets had become a shelter for my broken shell. What I did know was that I was done with Eric. The night had destroyed me but the morning was beginning to rebuild me. As much as I felt sorry for myself, as much as my body physically hurt, as much as I cared for Eric, I knew that I needed to leave him. There was no way I could continue to put myself in a situation that threatened my very own life. I grew up to be a smarter person. I watched my mother go through hell because of the man she fell in love with, and I couldn’t bear to put myself through the same path. 

I decided I would end it as amicably as I possibly could. I was just so scared he would do something drastic if I left him in the complete dark. I understood what he did to me and I knew there had to be repercussions, but I felt like I had to make some attempt at saving him. I knew that the Eric I loved was somewhere deep down inside the monster that presented itself last night. But I just couldn’t tell if I was strong enough to save him. 

I had to try. 

But I also had to be strong and I had to be smart. I couldn’t stay with Eric right now and I certainly couldn’t be around him alone. He had to understand that what he did was unacceptable and frankly, I was scared. I didn’t want him to lose control again. And if he did, I needed protection because I was scared he wouldn’t stop the next time. 

I peeked out from under the protective barrier to see Courtney tiptoeing her way into the room, making a wobbly walk over to her bed. She crawled in next to me and nudged my butt over. She sat up against her headboard and looked down at me. 

“You ok?” 

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice still shaky and unsure of itself. 

“It’s going to take a while, but you’ll be ok. You’re stronger than this.” Her hands twined themselves through my now matted hair. I was a mess. I tried burying myself back under the sheets but Courtney pulled them down, her grip surprisingly felt very similar to the grip of a bear trap. I stared up at her white, pop-corned ceiling. The small crispy bubbles and sharp circles splattered across the top, creating all sorts of shapes and patterns. 

“Remember when we were in high school and Frank threw a bag of cat shit at my window?” Courtney said, looking down at me with the same fondness someone would have reminiscing on the birth of a child. I looked up at her blankly and then remembered. A smile crept across my face unwillingly. And then we both cracked up laughing. 

“Yes!” I said between laughs. Frank was my ex-boyfriend who I found out cheated on me with some blonde slut in our Algebra class. When I discovered him with the bimbo in the back of our chem lab, Courtney took it upon herself to make his life a living hell. Mainly it was by leaving food for the stray cats in the neighborhood by the window to his bedroom. Sometimes she was even daring enough to crack his unlocked window open and attract the homeless critters in. 

“You sleep with a dirty pussy, you’re gonna attract dirty pussy. That was always my motto!” Courtney cracked up, slapping the bed next to me. It sure enough was her motto, so when Frank found out she was the kitty caper, he decided to take revenge by throwing a bag of cat shit at Courtney’s window. What he wasn’t expecting was to hit Courtney’s father, who also happened to be a policeman. Needless to say, Frank never even thought of throwing a baseball, much less a bag of cat shit after that.

“He was such a skeeze ball,” I said through the trailing end of a loud laugh. The laughing helped my mood incredibly. It somehow disarmed me and helped my muscles relax. They had felt like they were tense ropes tightening around my body, threatening to take my breath away just like Eric had done. His name alone sent another shiver down my spine, but I tried to control it. I wasn’t going to let myself fall back into that negative downward spiral of confusion, depression, and fear. 

It was something I had to deal with and I would, I just understood it was going to take time. So these small victories, like laughing along with my best friend, helped more than any therapist could. 

“You sure know how to pick them,” she said and quickly added, “too soon?” 

“No,” I chuckled, slowly unraveling myself from the safety of the bed sheets. 

“Since we’re on the subject… what are you going to do?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” I answered, genuinely not knowing what my next step would be. I knew I couldn’t go back home though, that just wasn’t an option. 

“Well you have to go out with Ryan clearly.” 

“What?” I asked, a little shocked at the suggestion. 

“Yeah, you said you were having some nerd date last night. And it might be too soon… but that clearly didn’t happen.” 

Courtney’s abrasiveness felt like home to me at this point. It was actually really soon to bring up my abuse from the night before. But somehow, the bluntness of her approach made me giggle. And for a flash of a second, I felt happy at the mention of Ryan. It was like the tiniest ray of sunlight shining through a really shitty thundercloud. 

“You’re right. Let me call him once the bruise shaped like a hand around my neck is gone,” I said, finding myself return her dark humor. It made some light out of this horribly
fucked up
situation. 

“Mind if I crash here for a little?” I asked Courtney, playing with the frills on her pillow. 

“Absolutely not. What happens if I bring a guy over?!” she said. 

I stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say next. 

“I’m just joking, of course you can stay here! Shit, you should just move in. You know how many midnight Netflix marathons we can have? It’ll be like high school all over again!” Her voice pitched up in a faux teenager kind of way, making it easy to picture her hugging a pillow and flipping through a yearbook. 

It did sound pretty fun, and I wasn’t at the risk of losing my life at Courtney’s either. 

Unless she cooked. Then there was no guarantee.  

CHAPTER SEVEN

A week later and things were slowly getting back to normal. The calls from Eric started to become more and more infrequent. My bruises were healing and my tears were no longer freely flowing at just the mention of someone whose name started with an E. I was slowly putting myself back together. It was a long road, but I was determined to do it. 

I decided to walk home from lab class that day. The breeze was perfect enough to shield me from the bright summer sun that beamed down on the city, bringing a life that was apparent throughout everyone who walked out on the streets. I popped in my headphones and made my way to Courtney’s place, passing our favorite little Mexican taco stand and saying hello to Danny, the neighborhood cook who everyone seemed to know on a first name basis. I walked past parks ringing with the laughter of children playing out on the emerald-green grass, rolling down the hills with their comrades, racing each other to get to the bottom. I passed a group of men playing dominos outside of a family owned pastry shop. They riled up when one of them placed their last domino, claiming the win and all its glory. I heard the men loudly denounce him as a cheater and then they all laughed heartily, enjoying the day with their closest friends. 

It was a beautiful feeling to observe such life. 

I unlocked Courtney’s door and walked straight into the living room, dropping off my backpack on the floor next to the entrance and making my way over to the kitchen. I poured myself the last of the milk and had whatever was left of the cinnamon toast crunch. I also threw a hot pocket into the microwave for good measure. 

“Hey, how was lab?” Courtney asked, coming out of her bedroom with her hair still a mess and her tank-top, which she got at a Rihanna concert, hanging precariously off of one shoulder. It was already the afternoon and this girl was
still
sleeping. 

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