Chapter 7

The child barely stirred as she was passed from Cassandra’s arms to those of the Social Services representative. Cassandra prayed that the girl would find loving parents and that she would adjust, adapt to her new environment. Joel had left, returned to his room she presumed. It was only know that she wondered why he had left in the first place, drawn by the commotion she guessed. She must really have been drawn to him through his writing, to have allowed him such close proximity to this child, to her even. To not have moved him on, politely, but firmly reminding him that he should be in his own ward. Yet she hadn’t, she had allowed him to stay, she had shared with him her worries for the child.

It took every scrap of energy that Joel had to dress himself; as he reached down to pull on his shoes, the contents of his head seemed about to burst from his skull. He’d been accosted on his way back to his room by a member of staff who was all too happy to accept his request to be allowed to leave; she’d practically run to fetch his clothes for him before making him sign the mandatory forms. Now however, he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of trying to dress himself. Leaving in the pyjamas was looking steadily more appealing. That option wasn’t really open to him now though, he was already half dressed, so it would be almost as hard to get back into the pyjamas, he might as well go the whole way and at least look semi-presentable. He just needed to struggle a little longer to get the last things on. If only his feet weren’t quite so far away, he really didn’t appreciate having to bend quite so far to put on his shoes. He silently cursed whoever had untied his laces so that he couldn’t just force his feet into them as he usually did, if he left them as they were he’d be sure to trip over a trailing lace and aggravate an injury.

The working day was finally over and Cassandra was looking forward to heading home to collapse. First though, she found herself heading in the direction of Joel’s room, she wasn’t sure why, she just felt the need to see him again before he left. Entering the ward, she realised that she was too late; the bed was already being prepared for the next patient, they didn’t stay empty around here for long; Joel must be on his way home. A surprising sense of loss settled on Cassandra’s mind. She berated herself silently, she didn’t even know the man, how could she possibly be bothered that she hadn’t got to say goodbye, she was being ridiculous, turning sentimental even. He was just another patient; he didn’t even know her name, why should his leaving have any effect on her at all. If anything she should be pleased, it was a case where the hospital had done its job, he was leaving in a much better condition than when he’d entered, everything had gone smoothly; an injured man had lived to carry on another day, thanks to their work. She didn’t feel it as a success though, knowing where he’d probably gone back to. Knowing what she knew about the man he was following.

By the time Joel had reached headquarters he was physically exhausted, yet at the same time his mind felt over-stimulated. In an attempt to ignore the pain building in his muscles, his mind had begun thinking everything over. He was currently engrossed in his own fantasy world; imagining a world in which people truly did live in harmony; where everyone had food to eat, clothes to wear, and a healthy environment. He had got quite far into his fantasy, even picturing the family he would have, and the little house they would share. Realising he was at the place he shuddered to call home, he shut off his fantasy and limped through the back door. The building was deserted; no doubt everyone was out protesting or procuring supplies. Joel figured he might as well take advantage of the peace and quiet and get some rest before they all descended on the headquarters again. Within moments of lying down sleep had claimed him and within a short time of entering sleep the dreams that so often plagued his nights, had returned to haunt him. In Joel’s dreams he was happy, his family was alive, he and his brother were talking and laughing. The dreams hurt so much because when he awoke, there was a second or two where he forgot that they were only dreams, for those few moments everything was normal, before reality came crashing down on him. He found those dreams far harder than the nightmares that sometimes came. Somehow the nightmares hurt less because they didn’t rip everything from him so cruelly. Even waking in sheer terror from the enemies of the night was preferable to the feeling of being given his family back; only to have them pulled from his grip again.