In His Eyes
October 27, 2002 3:10 a.m.
His EyesHis eyes filled with tears as he pleaded, “Please, if you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me.”
She sat in silence for a few moments, turning the weighty thoughts over in her mind. Her greatest fears were the same as her loftiest dream… asking for help. Now, tshe had made a move, and the help had come, but would the outcome be worth it? Finally, almost imperceptibly, her head nodded in a silent “Yes, I’ll go.”
“I’ll go, but I will NOT spend the night there under any circumstances,” she whispered fervently.
“If staying is what they think is best, then that’s what you’ll do,” another person said from his seat on the piano bench a few feet away. “Go pack some clothing just in case, don’t forget pajamas and your toothbrush.”
She knew better than to argue with her pastor. He knew her too well, and he definitely knew too much for her comfort. “I’ll be right down,” she mumbled as she raced up the stairs to her bedroom.
“I’m not staying, this is just a precaution, I’m not going to need these clothes…” she whispered reassurances to herself as she quickly packed a bag,searching for clean clothing in a room that looked like the aftermath of hurricane Andrew, "now where is my bible?"
As she left the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, she smelled the alcohol on her father's breath as he came to his doorway. “You’ve got the entire world on a silver platter… you don’t have ANY problems, it’s just that you don't apply yourself.” He said as her eyes filled with tears once more. “You know what? If you don’t straighten out and fly right within 3 weeks, I’m out of here. I’ll find myself an apartment and I’ll be out of your life…” his voice trailed off as he retreated to the dark bedroom.
“God, how can that man be my father,” she silently pleaded, “and how on earth can he treat me that way?” She grabbed her small bag from the bed, and returned downstairs. “OK, who’s driving?” she asked in a cheerful voice, hiding the tears with the artificial smile she had hid behind for so long.
It was nearly an hour’s drive to the hospital, but within mere minutes, the reality of her decision had set in. “God, what have I done?” she asked as she silently pleaded with Him. Her head slowly and carefully found a place on the young man’s shoulder next to her in the back seat, and the tears that had for so long filled her eyes finally began to course down her face. His hand snaked over and gently gripped her fingers as she cried during the long ride, never letting go, simply comforting her without uttering a single word.
The exam room was bare, and hospital efficient. Wooden benches bolted to the walls were covered with long, vinyl covered padding. A door in the corner was the only other feature the room offered. "If you stay too long in here, you surely WILL go crazy," she thought to herself.
The hospital's inefficiency only fueled her mind's agony. Her thoughts shifted to the young man asleep on a chair in the waiting room, still in his work uniform, in the emergency room instead of in his own bed. Yet again, feelings of guilt plagued her mind.
Finally, the young doctor arrived. Once her mother had left the room, they started the serious interview. Her frustrations mounted. "I don't need to be here! I'm fine! I've just been a bit stressed lately..." her protests and explanations went on.
"Tell me," he asked her, "If you're fine, if you're just a little stressed, why are you here? Why have you reached this point? Be honest with yourself, and with me."
Nearly two hours later, she sat silently in his embrace in the cold, impersonal waiting room as she waited for the verdict. If anyone had asked her what her heart’s desire was at that moment, she would have replied without a second’s hesitation, “To be HOME!” She whispered to the young man, “I’m so sorry… this is a lousy birthday present. I wish you didn’t have to be here.”
For the first time in many hours he spoke to her, “Don’t you dare be sorry. I chose to be here. And knowing that you are alright is the best birthday present I could ask for. Besides, it’s one in the morning, it isn’t really my birthday anymore,” he said with a slight smile.
She tried to smile back, but couldn’t. She felt overwhelmed by everything. Her life was in chaos and while she knew that she needed help, the thought of Chemistry tests and concerts that she might miss nagged at her mind. Thought of what her friends would say, what her teachers would think, and the words that would be whispered behind her back crept into her mind. Making her draw more and more into herself. She tried to whisper, “What if…?”
Then, her pastor came out to the waiting room and said, “You can go back in."
With great effort, she forced herself to walk back to the room. “It’s locked from the outside,” she thought to herself, “I wonder if they’re afraid I’d try to run away from this place?” As she waited for the young doctor to come back, she wondered what had been said in her absence. She thought she had him convinced to let her go home. Deny everything had been her philosophy at the beginning of the interview, but the doctor knew better. He had expected the truth from her and she had given it, mostly. The most damning testimony would have come from her pastor, a man she had often confided in and who now held the only real evidence. “Why did I EVER tell anyone how I was feeling?” she badgered herself, “I should have just kept it to myself! I could have handled it!” but deep in her heart she knew that she only lied to herself and if she had tried to hold any more pain inside, it might have destroyed her. Finally, the doctor returned. The verdict was in and she must face her sentence. She looked into his eyes, and before he even began to speak, she knew what he would say.
“You’re staying.”
