Getting Out

That morning, I woke up around 9:30 to Dr. Miller coming in to give me my meds. He sat down at the foot of my bed and gave me a loud sigh.

"Good morning, Samantha. How was your night?" He looked at me like he knew something he shouldn't.

"I had a lovely night. How about you Doc?" I tried to sound light, but I knew he could hear the tinge of guilt in my voice.

"Oh you know, I had a bit of trouble sleeping, so I went for a walk." He looked at me like he was expecting me to interrupt him. I didn't budge, so he continued on. "I decided to walk around the grounds. Here. At the Manor. Then I decided to check in around 12:30 last night because I wanted to come check on you after your unfortunate- er- accident." He didn't look at me this time. I think he knew if he looked at me he would know that I wouldn't be able to lie.

"I was going to the bathroom?" I said it like it was a question. But I know, and he knew, that that wasn't true.

"Samantha." This time he looked deep into my eyes. "Where did you go?And how did you get there?" He was more stern this time. His accent doesn't help his tone any. I always know when he's serious.

"I went to church." Which was true. "I got there in a car." Also, true. "I went to think things through. And I came to a resolve." All true.

"Ah." He just looked up at the ceiling and ran his hand through his silver hair. "You went to church, eh?" I just nodded my head. "Hmm. mhm. Alright, love. Why don't you get up and get ready. Detective Cole will be but a moment to come speak with you."

He got up and left the room. I felt like I could finally take a deep breath. I am totally exhausted, but it was still fun to get out of here. Now, I just need to make a plan to get out of here for good. I'm finally ready.

I walk out into the lobby to find Detective Cole sitting in the waiting chair. If I didn't dislike him, I would be attracted to him. I quickly get the thought out of my mind before approaching him.

"Detective. Lovely to see you again." I reach out my hand to shake his. He gets up to greet me. His hand still in mine. I blush, then shake my head. "Let's go into the dining hall. I haven't eaten yet."

Detective Cole followed close behind me as we walked the long corridor into the cafeteria. I walked through the line, as did Cole. We made our way through the buffet and then sat at the table furthest from everyone else. Cole seemed surprisingly quiet. Like he had something he needed to get off his chest, but didn't know how.

"Are you going to say what's on your mind?" Detective Cole looked up at me in surprise like he didn't expect me to talk or something. He still sat there silent. "Well? Out with it, what's on your mind Detective Cole?"

"I'm not sure." He finally stated. I didn't know how to respond so I just remained silent until he decided to talk up again. "I have an odd question." He looked deep into my eyes like he was about to ask me the most important question a man could ever ask a woman. I just nodded for him to continue. "Did you really mean to try and kill yourself?" He looked down at his tray like he was ashamed of asking the blaring question that everyone wanted the answer to.

"Hmmm." I paused. I needed to word this properly. Only because this answer always makes people uncomfortable. "Yes. And no." Cole just looked at me like I had two heads. "I needed to feel something. Anything. And I wondered if I could feel physical pain. I think I was just so emotionally lost after Lucy died that I just stopped feeling things altogether. I didn't feel sad, I didn't feel angry, I didn't feel- well- anything, really." I paused to take a bite of my food.

"Did you have a history of self-harm?" He asked as he shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth. God, even the way he eats is sexy.

I shake my head. One, to answer his question. Two, to stop pinning after a man who could possibly arrest me for the murder of my dead best friend. "No. I just knew some people who did. And I guess I wondered if it made them feel better, why not me?" I drank my orange juice. Then I stood up to throw out my tray.

Detective Cole just seemed stunned. Lost in his own thoughts. I couldn't quite place his emotions today. It was like he was here, but somewhere else entirely. Then, it hit me. Someone died. I walked back over and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss." I gave him a small, pity filled smile. He looked up at me like I just shot an arrow through his heart.

"How did yo-"

"I know things. Well, I feel things. That's more or less the reason I tried to kill myself." He looked at me confused. I sighed, exasperated. I guess now's a good a time as any to tell him the full truth about myself. "I'm an empath."

"What's an empath?" Detective Cole asked while taking out folders from his briefcase.

"It means I can feel other people's emotions, their pain, their hurt, their anger, their happiness, their love, so on and so forth." I leaned back in my chair. "It means that when I went to Lucy's funeral and decided to touch her arm, everything went black. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like I lost my soul. I walked around like a shell of a human for months. The only way I thought I'd finally be able to feel again is if I almost died."

Recollection seemed to dawn on Detective Cole's face. Like he was finally putting the puzzle together, even though he was missing a lot of the key pieces. I decided to finally ask him, "Who died?"

Detective Cole must not talk about personal things. He just cleared his throat and said "It doesn't matter. This meeting isn't about me, it's about you."

"Um... no. It's about Lucy." I said. "And the only way you'll ever get me to open up about myself is for you to open up about yours." I folded my arms and raised my eyebrow.

"Fine." He threw his hands up. "An old service buddy of mine." He looked away from me. "He pretty much saved my life once, and now I found out he ended his."

Now I get it. Why he was asking me those questions. "So you thought if I told you that I really didn't want to die then maybe that would give you some kind of closure on your brother?" He looked at me, dejected. "Or that you were wondering that if I really DID want to die, then that could give you some kind of key into the mind of your brother?"

"You have servicemen in your family?" He asked. "I only ask because you keep referring to him as my brother. Only people with first-hand experience knows what that means."

"My uncle. He died in Afghanistan when I was fourteen. I remember that his guys in his platoon were destroyed. I think they took it harder than my dad. And my dad and him were close. Can't get much closer than twins, you know? But still, those guys called him brother. And my dad still keeps in contact with those guys to this day." I smiled to myself. "There's this one guy, little Petey. He was my uncle's favorite. He would play his guitar and play really badly!" We both chuckled. "He would play songs from the backstreet boys and try to dance while playing and singing. He would just make a complete fool of himself." Cole laughed even harder now. "But Petey, man, he was never the same after my uncle died. He never played his guitar again. Except at his funeral. He said 'this is the last one, brother.' and he played 'Anywhere for you.' And he actually did it beautifully. Not a dry eye in the place."

Cole looked down at his briefcase. "Thank you, Sam." He said softly. He smiled to himself, then said, "You know what? I think I have everything I needed from you."

"What?" I was confused.

"I'm pretty good at judging character. And anyone who is willing to make someone else smile in spite of how dark their feelings are, is no suspect of mine." He puts his folders back in his briefcase, stand up and extends his hand to me. "It was an honor to meet you Samantha. I can see what everyone else sees in you, and I really appreciate what you said." He goes to walk away, then stops, turns, and looks me dead in the eyes. "Get out of here. I don't think this place is for you anymore." He smiles and then heads for the door.

"He's right, you know?" Dr. Miller sneaked up behind me, scaring me half to death.

I scream. "Doctor Miller! What in the world?"

He chuckles and says, "he's right. I'm signing you out this afternoon."

What. Just. Happened?