Fall from Grace

Fall from Grace By Kristi Hardison Chapter 1 Grace. That’s what my mother named me. Perhaps she had different visions for my future… or one hell of a sense of humor. I run my hands up and down the black straps of my cheap back pack. Imagine Dragons blasting in my ears. “The beast inside” vibrates through my head. It feels like a movie with an amazing soundtrack. The traffic and people almost appear to be in slow motion and the world around me looks a little less bleak as though I’m some sort of heroine figuring her life out. Everything works out for those people… always. I find myself here every day, waiting for the public transit bus to take me to and from two jobs all so I can hand over nearly every cent to pay for a roach infested, sorry excuse for an apartment that has about an arm span between the toilet and kitchen sink. After bus fares and the occasional textbook for my nursing courses, I barely have enough to eat. I suppose I shouldn’t complain about having food in my stomach. I just always wished for so much more. I look at my watch and seriously begin to worry that I’m going to be late, yet again. God, I’d kill someone for a car. Literally. Riding public transportation in a city like New York was like playing Russian roulette with dishonest people. If you didn’t die from contracting a rare disease formed by an unknown super bacteria, you could surely get robbed, raped or murdered for something as small as the last 20 dollars in your pocket. New York looked so glamorous in the movies. I suppose anything appears glamorous when you grow up in the desert of California. That’s what gave me the genius idea to spend 240 of the 300 I had saved up throughout high school for a bus ticket out of the only place I’d ever known to pursue my dreams in grand New York… I wanted so badly to leave my old life as far behind me as I could… I probably should have thought that through more. I look back at the graffiti covered bench and sigh. My feet were beginning to ache. Not the kind of ache that can be easily dismissed but the “I’ve been on my feet since 5:00 this morning and still have an 8 hour night shift ahead of me” ache. It probably used to be a nice area to sit and wait but now it was ready for a biohazard sign and the relocation of the homeless man using it as a makeshift newspaper cot. This area gives me the creeps. The last working streetlight for the next 3 blocks is hanging above my head threatening an outage. It’s making a strange buzzing noise and cutting in and out as if it could give up at any moment. A chilly breeze cuts through my light sweater forcing me to hug it to my body as closely as I can. The black scrubs I’m wearing certainly weren’t made to withstand the cold. I rock back and forth on my feet fighting the urge to shiver. Winter is coming. It always comes too soon. These are the only moments I find myself missing the warm desert nights in California where the sagebrush and the scorpions hiding beneath them was the only potential hazard you’d have to worry about while waiting for the bus. I feel eyes on me and turn my face slightly to the right. My breath catches when I notice a tall figure in a black hooded sweatshirt staring directly at me. He makes no move to turn away or pretend he wasn’t staring which is something any decent person with the slightest hint of politeness would do. I can feel my stomach twisting in knots as my heart begins to pound in my chest. My legs turn to lead as the fight or flight adrenaline begins to take over. I look away quickly and poke my head out over the curb, straining to see any sign of the bus. Nothing. It’s only me, the homeless bench-dweller and the mysterious hooded man whose eyes are still boring into the back of my head. I reach my hand into my pocket and stroke the small pepper spray canister while focusing on my breathing just as I see the faint lights of the approaching bus. I resist the urge to look behind me. Perhaps he’s just a harmless lunatic scaring people without intending to. Come on you stupid bus! The bus pulls up and opens its doors. I’ve never been so grateful to see this dump on wheels. I climb up quickly and find a seat toward the front shivering as my body adjusts to the heaters and lights. I watch the door in a panic waiting for the mysterious man to appear but the doors close and the bus begins to pull away. I look out the window straining to see past the reflections and into the dark. He’s gone. I try to shake the eerie feeling creeping over me. Did I imagine it? I really needed to get more sleep and stop killing myself on these night shifts at the hospital. Two jobs and school was just too much. I couldn’t wait to complete my nursing courses so I could make enough money to cut back to one. Two months left Grace. Hang in there. Chapter 2 The hospital is unusually steady this evening. Normally I’m running up and down the halls like a chicken with my head cut off taking care of the things delegated to me by the head nurse and doctors. Those tasks usually consist of emptying bed pans, cleaning blood spills and inserting catheters… not exactly glamorous work but everyone has to start somewhere. I find that I actually have time for a break around 9:00 and make my way to the children’s ward with my old copy of Peter Rabbit and a cup of hot chocolate. I stroll past several rooms with room numbers displayed on colorful Mickey Mouse plates until I see room 209. The door is slightly cracked so I look in and see her laying in her bed stroking the fur of her favorite floppy gray bunny with her tiny hands. I knock quietly and enter. “Hi Kalyn.” She looks up at me and smiles weakly. “Hi Grace.” “Are you feeling up to a bedtime story?” She pulls the covers up to her chin and turns so that she’s lying down on her right side facing me as I take a seat in the wooden rocking chair next to her bed. I place the hot chocolate beside her and she grins as I smile mischievously. We both knew she wasn’t supposed to have any liquids after 8:00 but it was our secret. I hand her the book and watch as she runs her hand lightly over the hard cover, tracing the illustrations. It was a beautiful book and quite old. It had belonged to my grandmother and passed down from my mother to me when I was 6. It had been my favorite possession. The worn spine and browning pages showed its age but it had a comforting softness and smell to it. Sometimes I would just hold it up to my nose and breathe it in. I could swear that my mother’s scented hand cream still lingered on the pages. It reminded me of her and a time when I thought she would always be around to take care of me. “It’s beautiful.” She says with a soft smile. “What is it about?” “Well, you’re just going to have to be patient and find out eager Beaver.” I smile at her and take the book as she hands it over giggling. I squeeze her hand then sit back, opening the cover to the first page.” “Chapter One: Peter’s Trip to Mr. McGregor’s Garden…” I’ve read for about 20 minutes when I notice Kalyn has fallen asleep with her gray bunny wrapped snuggly in her arms. I smile softly and place the book on her side table and watch her steady breathing. I reach over and gently brush her long brown hair away from her face. She’s such a sweet and beautiful little girl. I hated that she had to be here. She should be at home in her warm bed being tucked in by her mother. This place broke my heart but it also ignited the best part of me. The reason I wanted to become a nurse in the first place. Kalyn held a special place in my heart. I met her two months ago when I was assigned to the children’s ward as part of my training. She reminded me so much of my little sister Anna. She too had a beautiful smile and sweet spirit about her. She was always trying to make everyone around her happy. She was energetic, full of life and hope for her future. Every day with her, the sun was shining even if it was pouring out. She was 8 when the Leukemia took her from us. It happened so fast my mother and I barely had time to accept that she was sick. Suddenly she was in the hospital and two weeks later, gone. I was 11 at the time and felt as though our home had gone from a bright happy place to a dark reflection of our former life.

Load more