Joe finally showed up. I was in the day room listening to some dumb f**k going on and on about feelings when I saw him. His face was puffy, like he had been crying. My nurse stopped him in the hall, hugged him. He leaned against her like she was the only thing that was keeping him standing.
She never treated me like that. Whenever I needed anything she just told me how many other patients she had; that she was too busy to talk. But she didn’t seem to be too busy for Joe. I got up in the middle of the group to put a stop to that nonsense. Joe was there to see me.
He wiped the tears from his eyes as he saw me. The nurse patted him sympathetically on the shoulder before turning to leave. I walked past the two of them and went into my room. I didn’t even look at her or him.
He wasn’t long. I was lying face down on bed, waiting for him. I heard his footsteps, heard the door softly closing behind him.
I didn’t feel it until it was too late, the needle in my ass. I flipped over just in time to see Joe recap the needle. His eyes gleamed. The room began to spin as I felt a distant tugging at my wrist. I looked down to see the cut, the blood as Joe ran to the door.
“Nurse! Nurse!...Come quick, I think Sarah has done it again.” he said between sobs as the nurse ran past him to me.
A loud thump got her attention and the last of mine as my father slid to the floor. Everything was slow; her lunging towards him, his dazed face as he looked into her eyes, the blood from my cut as it dripped on the floor.