“Don’t you… want me to call your mother or something?”

         “No. I just don’t want you to leave,” Delia spoke quietly. We made it to the hospital and now she’s lying in a bed and I’m sitting next to her. If I thought she was phased out before, she’s at a whole different level now. The doctors or nurses or whoever they are have been coming in and out of this room for the past half an hour. I don’t know why I call it a room; it’s far from a room. It’s a huge room that reminds me of an elementary school gym with lines of beds around the perimeter. Curtains, making so-called rooms, separate the beds. They had the main curtain open but I closed it a few minutes ago. The girls on the other side kept looking at me.

         I wish I knew something to say, or at least be some kind of help to her. She’s just lying still, looking into space. Once in awhile she starts crying but it only lasts about a minute then she goes back to being quiet. I think she looks nervous. It’s hard to tell the difference between her different phased out looks but I think I might be getting somewhere.

         “Are you sure? I can come right back.”

         “Yes,” she nodded her head. “There’s a phone right there.”

         I didn’t know there was a phone right there that makes me feel like an idiot. “So there is. Here, do you want it?” she shook her head, “Do you want me to call?”

         “My mom’s going to make a big deal out of it.”

         It kind of is a big deal. “Don’t you think maybe she…”

         “I don’t want her to,” she answered before I could finish, “She like… turns everything around to be about her and makes everything a big deal. Then she makes things worst cause she’ll tell me how I need to take care of myself and I need to do all this shit that I’m already trying to do not even to mention all the other shit I’m doing. She thinks I’m overreacting and being a drama queen and I should be over everything by now.”

         “That’s ridiculous.” I spoke before I thought; I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

         “She is ridiculous.”

         I don’t understand what is taking so long. Either there’s something wrong or there’s not.  How hard is it?

         I can’t even think straight anymore. I’m lying in a hospital bed in an Emergency Room. It’s uncomfortable, very fucking uncomfortable. You’d think they’d want people to be comfortable when they’re obviously already hurting if they’re here in the first place. The doctors are pointless. They come in and out and ask for different things each time. They wanted me to give them a urine sample then told me I couldn’t go to the bathroom and had to do it right there. Uh, yeah… sure. Obviously I went into the bathroom but Justin came with me and stood outside the stall, making sure I was still alive. I don’t know exactly what he’s so worried about.

         He’s kind of weird. I know I’ve been thinking that for a long time but that whole not letting me pee on my own thing kind of cemented the idea in my mind. Although I can’t complain. He was able to talk me into getting into that van. I wish I could say it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was, but really it was that bad. It was like I was having a panic attack driving here, the combination of that and the whole reason for me coming. If something is wrong with this baby thing growing inside me I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t even think about it.

         “Delia?” Justin woke me from my thoughts.

         “Huh?”

         “I asked if you wanted something to eat… or drink. Anything?”

         I’ve told him a hundred times I don’t want anything, although obviously I could use some food. I just don’t want him to leave, not even for a second. “The last time… I was in a hospital was when Chase… so I don’t, like I can’t, be alone. I know you want to leave and stuff but please…”

         “I’m not leaving,” he broke in before I could finish, even though I’m not exactly finishing my thoughts. It’s annoying that I know I’m speaking in these fucked up sentences and I can’t even help it. I was a damn English major.  “I was just thinking we could order something or I could at least call the nurse and see how long this is going to take.”

         Before he finished talking the doctor came in reading his clipboard over again before speaking. “How are you doing Delia?”

         “Can you just tell me what’s going on please?”

         “Sure, I’ll get right to it. Most importantly, the baby is all right. Sometimes your body will warn you that if you keep doing things they way you are doing them something can happen. This was your warning. The baby is healthy now but you’re very stressed. The stress is not good for the baby, or for you. We need to do something about the stress and the depression.”

         He kept talking but I didn’t listen to him. I don’t know how he would like me to stop being stressed and depressed. Obviously I don’t want to be depressed, if there was something I could do to end it I would. I’m not an idiot. Usually for depression and stress they put you on drugs but they took me off the damn drugs once they said I was pregnant. I’m supposed to just deal with this shit on my own? There’s no possible way.

         I noticed no one was talking anymore and looked between the doctor and Justin who were both looking at me. “OK,” I answered, not exactly sure what I was ok-ing. I don’t really care either I just want to leave.

         “Alright, then why don’t you go ahead and get dressed? The nurses will have the papers for you to sign at their station when you’re all set.”

         “Are you alright?” Justin asked once the doctor left, “That’s good news, the baby’s fine.”

         “How am I supposed to not be stressed and not be depressed when they took all my fucking meds?”

         “You don’t need meds, they don’t work anyway. It’s just in your head, the meds just make everyone think they’re getting better so they get better.”

         “How am I not supposed to be depressed when my husband…”

         “I know,” he broke in while I tried to stop myself from crying, “Believe me D, I know just as much as you do. But you have to do it for the kid, you can do it. You just gotta really focus on other stuff, focus on the baby.”

         “At least we can leave.”

         “Yeah,” he nodded his head and stood up, “I’ll wait outside while you get changed.”

         I know in reality I have no control over this whole situation but I’m really worried about Delia. It’s not that I should be talking because I sure as hell have enough people worried about me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. But I don’t think she realizes how important this is. I guess I’ll just do my best to get her mind off the bad shit, which could be hard when I’m trying to deal with my own bad shit.

         She’s crying, I can hear her through the curtains. I really wish there was something I could do. “So I was thinking we could go right to the diner,” I spoke through the curtain, “I would call ahead and get the order in but what fun would that be? It’s much more entertaining to see the waitress’s face when you tell her your order. I’m starving though, you must be too.”

         The curtain was pushed open and Delia stood in front of me. Her eyes were red and puffy but she wiped them quickly as if that would hide the fact. “I am starving,” she spoke softly.

         I nodded my head and forced a smile as I followed her to the nurses’ station where she signed the papers in silence. “Do you need anything else?” she shook her head. We walked outside where the van was ready to take us back but she just stood in front of it once again unable to move. “It’s alright, you did it before. I’ll talk you through it again, just look at me.” I said as I got into the van first and held my hand out to help her in.

         She didn’t move until a few seconds later, “I’m going to walk. I’ll meet you at the diner or something.” Without even giving me a second to respond she was already heading out of the parking lot.

         I told the counselors in the van to go ahead home and jogged to catch up with her. “Well first, it’s this way,” I grabbed onto her arm so she would go in the right direction.

         “Oh.” She answered quietly keeping her eyes focused on the ground as she walked, “You don’t have to come, I can find my way.”

         “I know. I could use a walk.”

         “It’s not really that far.”

         “Nah, it’s fine.”

         It’s now almost midnight so luckily it’s a lot cooler and there’s no sun beating down on us. Delia is walking in a daze, she’s lucky I came along or she’d end up lost in the middle of nowhere since she isn’t paying attention to which direction she’s even going.  The people at this counseling place kind of suck at their jobs. I don’t know why they’re just driving the van back and leaving me to look out for her. It’s not that I mind, I’d be here with her even if they were here too. I just find it kind of odd. Especially since I’m just as fucked up as she is.

         We didn’t talk the whole way to the diner.  We didn’t talk at the diner either. I tried to talk but she just gave me one-word answers or ignored me completely. There has to be more they can do for her. Maybe I’ll go talk to someone tomorrow. Although I’m sure they won’t be much help since they seem to have no idea how the fuck to do their jobs.

         After dinner we went to bed. I stopped trying to make conversation. Maybe she needs the quiet; maybe that’s what works for her. I’ll try to think of something to do tomorrow to keep her mind off all the shit.  It’s not like I’m only doing it for her, I could use a break from my thoughts as well.

         “Justin?” she whispered after we turned the lights off for a while, “Are you still awake?”

         “Yeah, I’m up.”

         “I just… I’m sorry for like ruining your day and everything and like being so weird and…” she seems to have a hard time finishing sentences, I’m not sure if that’s something she’s always struggled with, but I doubt it.

         “No, not at all. What was I going to do? Hide in the room so I wouldn’t have to go to a group session. Don’t worry about it.”

         “Well thanks for… going with me and talking to me in the car, and staying with me, and walking back with me… and eating with me…”

         “Delia you’re fine. Don’t worry about it. I know what you’re going through, I’m here for whatever you need.”

         “Yeah but you’re going through it too. You’ve got the same issues I do but you’re helping me feel better and I’m not helping you at all.”

         “Nah, that’s not true. You’re helping me a lot. You needed someone; you’d do the same if the situation were reversed. I’m not worried about it Delia, don’t worry about it. Some days are better than others. Tomorrow I’ll have a shitty day and you can help me out.”

         I heard a slight laugh through the darkness and that made me smile, “Promise?”

         “Yeah, I promise tomorrow will be a shitty day.”

         “OK.” She paused for a few seconds as if she had something else to say, “Goodnight Justin.”

         “Goodnight Delia.”