My fist connected with the brick siding of the building, and I felt my knuckles crunch at the weight of my punch. It was the first solid feeling I’d felt in the past two hours, I had no clue what was happening. My Mom was on her way, which surprised the crap out of me, but I needed someone there who could understand. She hadn’t been an active nurse since I was born, but she knew the ins and outs of the medical field.

And well, I just needed her there.

I rested my head against the side of the building, feeling completely useless.

At any moment her brothers would be there. It should’ve brought me comfort in knowing that I could find out what was going on, but I was terrified because they’d likely leave me in the dark where I belonged.

When I closed my eyes all I could see was her face, that look of pure chaos in her eyes. She was lost. Her mind wasn’t there. It was choking me up inside.

“You,” I heard that familiar voice that I was dreading.

When I saw his face, my legs grew weak. I had been trying to prepare myself for the moment he showed up, but it was useless. The fight or flight mode kicked in. I swallowed down the hard mass that felt lodged in my throat.

I thought I was going to start swinging my fists, maybe even scream at him, but neither of those things happened. It was like a sudden feeling of relief invaded my body, and I cried.

I cried like a God damned baby, right there in front of her brothers. I’d never been more relieved in my entire life.

“Go to her,” I said through my sobs.

My back slid down the wall, and I gripped my knees.

It would’ve been the best time for Fox to let me have it. He could’ve kicked me while I was down, and I would’ve taken the beating. Gladly. But, he didn’t. I looked up at him, and wiped my face with the back of my hand. There was no anger on his face. There was no hate in his eyes. He wasn’t smug-like, not even a hint of satisfaction shown on his face. He looked hurt. He looked as bad as I felt.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he told me.

I agreed, willingly.

The two of them hurried inside the building, and I sat there awaiting my fate.

When my Mom arrived, the two of us sat together at the picnic table. I told her everything that happened, and reliving those moments nearly killed me all over again. It was like being stabbed in the same place over and over again. The knife would come out, and be stuck right back in at the same angle and same spot. The wound would never heal.

Fox and Obi were inside for a long time. It felt like an eternity. The moment they finally walked back out the doors, I had already anticipated the worst. You know when you think your body can’t take anymore it proves you wrong.

They spotted me by the table, and hurried in our direction.

“Fox, Obi, this is my Mom, Beth,” I introduced them before Fox could start swinging. I didn’t want him to cause a scene in front of her, and I wasn’t quite sure where his head was. He’d been known to flip out with only a moment’s notice.

Both of them were nice and said hello. “I’m going to go grab some coffee,” she said as she stood up from the table. “Would you boys like me to bring you a cup?”

“I’ll go with you,” Obi chimed in. I wasn’t expecting that, but I guess Fox had some things to get off his chest. I was just thankful we were right outside the ER.

Just as soon as my Mom and Obi were behind the glass, Fox spoke.

“I have some things to say to you, and you’re going to listen.”

“Wait,” I held my hand up. He was growing angrier by the second. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I had to know. “Could you tell me if she’s okay first? Please.”

“She on a forty-eight-hour psychiatric hold, but she’s okay.”

Psychiatric hold? I didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. At least she was okay though.

“Obi and I had a long drive up here, and we talked through a lot of shit. He convinced me to tell you what was going on. Said that you needed to know, because not only do you love her, but she’s in love with you.” He took a seat on the opposite side of the table and continued. I just sat there still as a statue, hanging on to his every word. “Gwen is on medication that treats her for PTSD and Psychosis. Without it she has manic episodes like this.”

I swallowed roughly trying to figure out if I heard him correctly. “She seems fine.” I said. PTSD happens when a person witnesses or has a traumatic event happen. My head was spinning in circles. What could’ve possibly happened to make her that way.

“Most of the time, she is. But one day without her medication, or one night,” he rolled his eyes, “and it spirals out of control.”

My palms grew sweaty. “Where are your parents, Fox? Shouldn’t they be around more, if she’s sick?”

“They’re the reason that she’s sick.” The color of his face faded to a pale white shade. “That night of the party, when she was attacked. You know the one she confessed about the other day?”

I nodded.

He continued. “Gwen’s best friend Abbi called my parents the night of that party when she realized that Gwen was completely trashed. We didn’t know until later that she’d actually been drugged that night. The guy who had locked her in the room that night had slipped a sleeping pill into her drink, and she was out of it. My parents barged into that house and found my sister locked in a room with that guy. My Dad flipped out,” he shook his head as if he remembered the details vividly. “My Dad beat the hell out of that kid, before they pulled my sister out of that house. Cops were called. It was a big mess. But when they were headed home that night, a semi crossed over the yellow line and hit their car head on.”

“No,” I said the word, but hadn’t realized I said it out loud.

“Yeah.” He nodded his head. “It killed my parents instantly.”

Both my hands cradled my head as I shook it back and forth. “Oh, my, God.”

“Gwen was in the hospital for a long time. She broke her collarbone and a couple of ribs, and suffered a severe concussion. She wasn’t even out of the hospital for my parent’s funeral. When she finally became alert, she asked for Mom and Dad. The doctors ran several tests on her and didn’t find anything. But, according to her behavior, the doctor’s diagnosed her with PTSD. They said that after a trauma like that, sometimes your brain will block out the memory. That’s what she did. She blocked out the memory of what happened that night. Anytime her brain starts to put together pieces, she shuts down. If she were to have a dream about that night, she’d wake up panicked. All the memories that she has from the night of the incident are locked away. It’s like she has a file cabinet in her brain that is locked, and no one is allowed in. Not even her. She refuses to open it up; letting those memories remain locked away forever.”

“Will she ever fully remember?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The doctors don’t know. After weeks of nightmares, she had a psychosis break at home, and that’s when the doctor put her on some medication. They said it would help keep her brain more organized, and help to make her feel less anxious. Without it, she’s a complete mess.”

She didn’t have it here. She didn’t pack her medicine for the trip. I’m a complete fool. How could I let it happen?

“Over the past year, she seems to have gotten worse. She’s had more episodes. Obi and I were afraid that the medicine wasn’t working anymore. We’ve done our best to look out for her, but we just keep failing. I’m fucking twenty years old Man; I never expected to be her legal guardian. I can barely keep myself straight, much less her. I’m failing miserably.”

“No,” I responded quickly. “You can’t place all the blame on yourself when you’ve been carrying around these kinds of burdens. It’s not your fault.”

“She’s under my care. It is my fault.”

“Can she recover from this?” I asked him. I wanted to know what we were up against.

“Why? You going to skip town now that you know how crazy she is?”

I jerked up from my seat, and bent down in his face. “Don’t you ever say that again? Don’t!” I yelled. “I love her more than anything in this world, and I’m going to be here through all of this. I don’t give a damn if you like it or not. I’ll take all the beatings you want to dish out, but I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere.” My words were harsh, and I meant them. “She’s not crazy. She’s sick, and I don’t care about that. I still love her, and I’m not leaving her.”

“She’s not crazy,” he said. Tears fell from his eyes. Fox Taylor was crying.

I sat back down in front of him, and without thinking I placed my hand on his shoulder. This man was tough as nails, and he was shattered right before my eyes.

“Look,” I told him. “My Mom is a registered nurse. She hasn’t practiced in a long time, but she can help us. She will help us. Gwen obviously needs some kind of new treatment plan, and who better than a Mom to help us figure it out. She will. If you’ll let her.”

He put his head down on the table, and nodded in defeat. He’d reached his limit, and was hanging over the edge of a cliff holding on with just one hand.

“Where is the guy, Fox, the one that was in her class? Something should be done about him. Is he still a threat?”

“No,” he sniffled. “He wasn’t in her class. The guy was sent away a long time ago. His father made him go away to some private boarding school half way across the country. He’s not enrolled at our school, and she didn’t see him that day.”

Jesus!

Just when I thought the fire was fully lit, he goes and adds more fuel to it.

“Okay,” I said, rising from my chair. “This is what we’re going to do.” He stood up too, and wiped his face. “We’re going to talk to my Mother about everything. We are going to find out what doctors she needs to see, and we’re going to have a plan of attack.”

He reached out his hand for me to shake, and I did. We were jumping in together, all of us, and we were going to make sure that she was taken care of. We didn’t have to be friends to do that. We just had to agree to put her first. I felt like we made a silent pact the moment we shook hands.