Brutal Heir (Court University 1)

Holy fuck.

That was like half his life. My God, and looking up, I swallowed. “You were nine?”

“Yeah, the whole thing was not long after my dad died. He was in a riding accident mere months before it happened. It was fucked.”

Jesus. I faced the woman, her appearance nothing but a pleasant sleep. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know, and Knight, he didn’t even look sad, more so used to all this. And maybe he was.

Half his life….

“It was a traumatic brain injury that put her in the coma,” he said, looking over at me. “Sound familiar with your class stuff?”

It did, one of my psych terms because of its connection to mental impairments. I wet my lips. “Do they think she’ll ever come out of it?”

I felt stupid the moment I said it, like putting that reality out there might make things worse for him instead of helping, and now, I knew why he told me not to be rude outside the room. This was a sensitive issue here, all this very sensitive and extremely personal. For whatever reason, he shared that with me and I didn’t understand.

He crossed his legs at the knee, mighty hands resting on his boot. “I used to wish for a long time she would.” He shook his head. “Wished it with all I had.”

His voice rough on the end, something pulsed inside of me, my heart.

He wet his lips. “I barely even remember who she used to be now. Grandfather had her moved here, keeps her comfortable for me.” He shrugged. “He obviously only does it for me.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Stopping all this.” He raised his hand to the machines. “Taking her off life support. If she hasn’t come out of it by now…”

He said the words so final, so unfeeling. It was like he’d played this conversation so many times already in his head, merely vocalizing it now.

Maybe he had.

“Sometimes, I wonder if it’d be easier,” he said, glancing away from her and up at me. “If anything for her. It’s like she’s just here in limbo, no way forward or back.”

But at least this gave him hope, at least a little bit? Right? I leaned forward. “I don’t know if it’s that simple.”

His eyes cut to me, cold again. “Because you know so much more about this stuff than me?”

No, but I was trying to sympathize, empathize with him? He acted so harsh and jagged sometimes, like a piece of broken glass who’s sole purpose was to cut and stab. That was how he’d been treating me, throwing his weight around and watching the world crumble around. It was obviously how he dealt with certain things in his life.

I guessed it was all just really sad.

I had nothing for him now and wished our argument and current situation hadn’t made him feel the need to bring me here, to prove a point to me, which was obviously the intent. He did know something about these things, hell maybe even about many of the topics I went over in class about the brain and its relation to mental handicaps. He obviously was a frequent flier around these parts, heard all kinds of stories from doctors and even from the patients themselves by being behind these walls for so many years. This was a nursing home and there were a lot of patients here who needed care, not just in the physical sense.

Knight’s hand left his mom again, his Adam’s apple working in his throat. “Anyway, it is what is,” he said, getting up. He frowned. “And as you could probably see when we came in, there’s plenty of people you can talk to about this stuff. Doctors and nurses? They’re usually pretty cool about that.”

Hence proving my point about what he knew about this stuff. He’d obviously been coming here a lot too, talked to many doctors and nurses. A tap at the door, and the woman at front desk came inside the room, her smile wide. “Knight? Some of the other patients and nurses want to say hi. You know, since you haven’t been here for a while?”

That saddened me as he looked at her, his nod firm. He started to follow, but shot a glance back at me.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, getting out some of my school things. “I’ll probably do what you said. Get up and find some of those doctors to talk to.”

His eyebrows narrowed. “Keep your phone close. I don’t want to have to look for you when I’m done.”

I told him I would before he left, and though I meant to get up and walk the ward, I couldn’t help staring at his mom for a little while. The whole situation was just so sad and I couldn’t even imagine.

Her machines hummed around me, and getting up, I did start to leave before noticing one of her charts tucked in a pocket beside the bed. None of that definitely was any of my business, but I did pull it out, take a glance. Her name was Evangeline.

I smiled at that, pulling it out more. They had her diagnosis and a list of all the stuff the her doctors had her on. I assumed fluids and all other kinds of stuff that went well beyond my head. I snapped a picture, not really knowing if I’d need it for anything regarding my paper, but figured it couldn’t hurt for perspective when going over my own stuff for class. After, I left everything but my purse and a notebook behind, intending to speak to those doctors like Knight had advised me to do. I bet I could got a lot of information here about both physical and mental diagnoses and decided since I was here, that’s what I’d do.

I started to close the door to Evangeline’s room before looking at her one more time. I hoped for the best for the situation, but even if his mom did wake up, who knew how she’d be? The whole thing was just terribly sad, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make a thing or two make sense, a thing or two about Knight?