Chapter 3 - Amri

Spending three days cooped up in a mental facility is not how I wanted to spend my last moments on Earth. Spending dinner time watching Meth-head Molly play slapjack with Nasty Neil…that part isn't so bad.

I've given everyone here nicknames within the past few days - because what else is there to do to pass the time - and honestly, I'm cracking myself up. Meth-head Molly earned her name from the crazy stories she was telling in the common room my first night here about how she did so much meth it took her to an alternate universe. Nasty Neil is well…nasty. I swear he never showers, and his breath will knock you out if you get close enough - I saw it happen to a nurse. Then there's Crazy Ace- a man who isn't hard on the eyes but is without a doubt certifiably insane, Salacious Sam – the horndog of the psych ward, Married Mary - who does not stop talking about her husband, and about a dozen others that aren't as interesting but clearly have something fucked up with them or they wouldn't be locked in here with me.

I've spent every waking hour trying to seem normal and keep myself busy by going on walks and playing cards with some of the more ‘normal' patients. I've kept myself controlled when speaking to my psychiatrist, not giving too much away about my plans for when I leave Melford, and I have accepted every single medication she's thrown my way.

While I'm asleep, though, I belong to him, my Reaper. I find myself in his bedroom every time my eyes close long enough for me to go to sleep. He never says a word, just checks me over and then pulls me into bed after him. We lay like that until I feel myself waking up, and each time before I leave, he pulls me in for a soft kiss.

I know to anyone else I would sound crazy, falling for a man I can find only in my dreams, and the past few days do have me questioning myself. The medications I got put on my first day at Melford are finally getting into my system, and it feels good. Only…I don't want them to feel too good. If they do, then I lose my sense of why I'm doing what I am. I lose understanding of why it makes sense to die, and I've looked forward to dying for so long now that I don't know what I'd do if I suddenly got better and changed my mind.

It's why I must get out of here. I cannot let medication blind me to what I want. Who I want.

I look around the cafeteria, seeing nurses stationed at different areas around the room, and I smile when I see Damion already looking at me. We've built a weirdly solid friendship since I got admitted, despite his position as a nurse and me as a patient, and I look forward to talking to him every day.

I see him walking toward me, a smile on his face, and I take a moment to look him over. I never got the chance to when we first met, since my mind was so scattered with thoughts of the mysterious man who saved me, but now I wonder how Damion ever escaped my notice. His brown hair is cropped close to his head at the sides, giving him some extra length on top. His eyes are a lovely shade of blue, dark and deep like the ocean, with eyelashes that look too long to be natural. His skin is tanned from obvious hours in the sunlight, and the edge of his shirt rides up on his arm to show some sort of tribal tattoo. He looks like he could be a model, not a nurse at some run-down psycho station.

"Hey Amri." He says, coming to a stop beside me. I don't know if it's normal for nurses to fraternize with patients, but from the questioning looks we're getting from all sides, I'll say it's definitely not normal. Before now, our conversations were kept to the privacy of vacant hallways. To hell with that, though.

"Hello to you, too, Dee. Care to join?" I wave a hand to the empty table in front of me. I've realized that most people here have been at Melford for a while and have therefore built their own little cliques that I don't have a place in since I'll be leaving so soon.

Damion sits next to me, making some of the other nurse's eyes go wide. "I've got to be honest, Ree – I'm kind of sad to see you go."

I smile at the nickname he gave me, the one that rhymes with the one I gave him. "I'm sure you say that to all the girls that pass through here."

His fingers reach up to twist a red curl that hangs loose from the knot I threw my hair into this morning. "Only the pretty ones."

His whisper sends shivers through me, and I feel myself blush at his words. It's been a long time since I had any compliment directed at me and I'm not sure what to do with it. I don't feel pretty, I feel…lost. My red hair has dulled from its normal vibrancy and my blue eyes have lost their sparkle. I feel like even my freckles have begun to disappear.

"Oh, shut up." I softly shove against his shoulder and laugh off his words. There's no reason to overthink it, I'll be leaving here tomorrow.

"I'm serious, Ree. What are your plans for when you leave?" He sounds worried, like he has all the other times we've talked about me leaving.

I look away. "I don't really have any."

"Have you considered staying? I think it would benefit you to be somewhere stable right now."

I know he's coming from a caring place, a place I'm not too familiar with if I'm being honest, but all he's managing to do is aggravate me. I don't need someone pretending to care now. It's too late. I've made up my mind.

I continue to look the other way, not wanting to confront the possibility that someone may care if I live or die. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Over and over again until I feel my emotions calm down and I no longer feel like I'm about to explode. It hits me then that the medication is working. When I was out of my medicine, it took hours for me to self-regulate. The fact that I was able to do it within a few minutes is a feat within itself.

"Ree." I hear Damion from beside me. "I'm not trying to push you or act like you can't care for yourself. I just…I don't want to see you hurt."

His hand slips into mine, uncaring about the dozens of eyes on us right now, uncaring about the societal barriers that should be in place right now. He pulls me toward him, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight to him.

"Someone does care about you, Ree. I know it feels like no one does, but I do. I care."

He slowly pulls away from me, only far enough for his lips to find my forehead in a single, gentle kiss. His words mixed with the sensation of his lips on my forehead in such a gentle gesture, a gentleness I haven't felt in years, even from myself, causes a single tear to slip free and fall to the floor between us.

As he pulls away, a flash of black behind him catches my eye and my eyes widen as I see the man from the bridge standing in the doorway of the cafeteria. He wears the same dark pants and long jacket with the hood pulled up, but I'll be damned if I don't figure out who he is.

I jump from the table, knocking the chair back on the ground and cringing at the loud clanging sound that rings through the filled café. Meth-head Molly and Nasty Neil stop playing cards to stare, someone in the food line drops their tray, and the guards stationed at the door grab for their tasers. I don't care about any of it. I rush across the cafeteria and grunt when the guards hit me in my stomach.

The three of us go down in a ball of limbs, and I use the fact that they don't want to kill me to my advantage, because I have no such qualms. I throw an elbow into the face of one of the guards, watching as blood splatters across the floor as I kick out and catch the other one directly in the dick. I'll pay for all of this later, and I'll also marvel at how my body is even strong enough to make someone else bleed, but right now all that matters is getting to the man in the hood.

When the guards' grip is loose enough, I slide past them, the blood on the floor helping me on my way through. I rush out the door and down the hallway where the man disappeared moments before. I hear Damion yelling my name and hear the sound of someone running after me, but that's all secondary to the form I see in front of me. It's him.

He makes a turn for the garden, and I continue to rush after him. Following him out the door and onto the stone pathway that lines the rows and rows of flowers and bushes.

"Wait!" I yell, breathless from running and exercise my body isn't used to.

He turns around, the hood still covering all of his distinguishable facial features, even in the fading sunlight. I brush my hair out of my face. Somewhere along the way it came loose from its not and is now hanging wildly around my head.

"Who the hell are you?"

"You look good covered in blood, my little siren. "

I look down, and sure enough, there is blood all over my clothes. It looks like I busted more than one guard's nose.

"Who are you?" I ask again, my voice wobbly.

A commotion starts up on the door behind me. I turn to see Damion and the guards trying to get the door open, and when that doesn't work, they start banging on the windows. I see Damion's mouth moving, trying to talk to me through the glass, but I can't make out what he's saying. Suddenly, the glass fogs up, making me unable to see the three men and I'm sure they can't see me anymore either.

"Your little boyfriend isn't too happy." I hear him laugh softly behind me.

"He's not my boyfriend." I snap .

"But he wants to be."

I shrug. I'm not stupid, I know that Damion probably likes me, and I like him, too. The problem is that I can't let him get too attached when I don't plan on staying. It's not fair to him and it's not fair to me. It's not fair to my Reaper, either.

"I'll ask one more time, who are you?" I take another step toward him. I feel my anger bubbling up toward the surface and I know if I don't get it under control soon, I'll snap.

"Or what?"

He's taunting me. I know he's taunting me - but I can't help it. I let out an estranged scream and lunge at him. He dodges me, knocking my hands to the side as he sidesteps me and I almost trip over my own feet.

"Oh, come on, siren. I know you can do better than that."

I lunge again and this time, I do fall. I stay on my hands and knees, panting for breath and watching for him out the corner of my eye. When he wanders over close enough, most likely to check on me, I grab an ankle with my hand and use all my weight to shove him down, legs first. It's not graceful in the least, but it's effective.

He goes down laughing. I sit up, my hips across his as I straddle his waist. I gasp when his face comes into view.

"No." I whisper, shaking my head.

He tilts his head to the side. "What is it, little siren?"

Tears fill my eyes as I stare down at the man who saved my life against my will, who watched as I fell to the dirt and passed out in front of the cops.

"Reaper."