Dawn's Ghost

“You’re not going to get her to eat. Not voluntarily any way.” The elderly nurse regarded the young doctor steadily. He was an intimidating man and many of the younger orderlies were terrified of him, but Grace had been in this business far too long for that. He gazed at her thoughtfully.
         “Are you suggesting we force feed her?” he asked calmly. She sighed.
         “I’m not suggesting anything, I’m just telling you the facts. She will not eat,” Grace said and the doctor shook his head impatiently.
         “That’s two patients here refusing to eat food and one of those won’t take his medication. What is it with these two?” he said and Grace frowned at his callousness.
         “Well they’re quite different people Dr. Carter. With patience Greg will eat and he will take his medication. But Dawn…she’s different. She doesn’t think she needs to eat,” Grace explained and the doctor raised an eyebrow at her.
         “Because she’s already dead,” he stated and Grace shrugged.
         “That’s what she believes. She remembers trying to kill herself, but not being saved, or being in the hospital. As far as she’s concerned she succeeded.”
         “Then why is she still walking around my hospital?” he asked sharply.
         “She committed suicide. It’s a sin. She believes that she has some purpose to fulfil before she can rest,” she said and to her annoyance the doctor laughed.
         “She’s the craziest person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of crazy people,” he said, and Grace got to her feet. She gritted her teeth in irritation.
         “Fine. I just thought I should tell you. We’re doing all we can to help her,” she said, and without another word she stormed out of the luxurious office. 

Greg pushed a baked potato around his plate morosely, mashing the soft pulp in with skins, trying to make it look half eaten. It didn’t seem to make a big difference but there was no way he was going to eat it. He was hungry; physically he knew his body needed food, he could tell from the acidic ache in his stomach. He just couldn’t bare the thought of actually forcing the food into his mouth, chewing, swallowing…the whole process made him feel nauseous. He had never eaten much before they’d sent him here, although that certainly wasn’t the reason he thought, scratching at the scars that traced up and down his slender arms. The doctor had said his refusal to eat was rebellion and he knew they all thought he was just being difficult. They didn’t know he felt like crying every time that bell went for meal times, that he felt physically sick at the greasy smell that floated down the corridor from the canteen.
         A person suddenly occupied the seat opposite him and though it jerked him out of his melancholy reverie he didn’t look up. He didn’t need to; there would be only one person that would take that seat.
         “Hey Dawn,” he muttered sulkily. She scowled at him.
         “Will you eat something you jerk?” she scolded and he finally did look up at her, a smile on his pale face.
         “After you,” he said, offering his plate to her. She stared at him coldly.
         “I’m not having this conversation with you again,” she said sternly. He nodded.
         “Yeah yeah, don’t need to eat, I know,” he muttered, and picked up his fork. Reluctantly he began to eat the potato, tiny mouthful at a time. She beamed at him and it was worth the whole ordeal to see her smile like that. As he chewed he stared at her thoughtfully. He didn’t think she’d eaten a mouthful since she’d arrived a week ago, but she didn’t look any different. She was still beautiful, enchanting…she still seemed to glow. How could someone who wasn’t eating look that healthy? Mind you, who would trust his perspective? After all, he was in a mad house too.

As always, when the bell sounded for meal times Greg was filled with dread, but nowadays there was determination lurking around with his despair. It had become his own personal mission to get Dawn to eat. The conversation they’d had when he’d first tried still rang in his head, but he knew she hadn’t already died as she believed, he wasn’t that crazy. But as strongly as she’d insist she didn’t need to eat, he’d argue back with just as much gusto. He seemed to annoy her, but at every meal she was always there, so she must like something about him. That only gave him further strength.
But she wasn’t there. Only that morning she had been sitting in front of him, scolding him into eating but now she was nowhere to be seen. He glanced around the canteen worriedly but it was empty of anyone who mattered, and there was only one person who mattered to him. He picked up a plate and hardly noticed when the sour faced cook filled it with lasagne. He went to take his seat but spotted Grace across the canteen, looking tired and tearful. She glanced at him and he waved her over.
         “Where’s Dawn? Is that what you’re going to ask?” she beat him to his question before he could even open his mouth, so he nodded silently. She sighed and shook her head, “I’ve been trying to find you to tell you - she collapsed, just a few hours ago. She hasn’t eaten anything for a week Greg, maybe even longer. The human body just can’t function like that. If she doesn’t start eating soon…she’s…” She trailed off and Greg stared at her blankly. That wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t conceivable for there to be a world without Dawn in it. She was an angel, whether alive or dead as she believed she was his angel. He shook his head slowly.
         “Can…can I see her?” he asked, hardly daring to believe she could say yes. Grace pursed her lips, looking uncomfortable.
         “I…the doctor wouldn’t like that very much,” she said, but she didn’t look too sure and Greg leapt for her uncertainty.
         “Please?” he begged, “Please? She’s the only person who’s ever meant anything to me in this place. You can’t stop me from saying…from seeing her. Not now,” he said, tears springing into his eyes. Grace sighed and shifted her weight around awkwardly. Finally she nodded.
         “Fine. You can see her. If anyone can talk some sense into her it’s you,” she said and Greg hugged her exuberantly.
         “Thank you!” he exclaimed. He threw his tray down onto a nearby table and ran from the canteen. Within seconds he was back and he picked up the tray. He gazed at Grace for a second before smiling.
         “She’ll eat this,” he promised. Grace waited until he’d left again, and turned away from the door shaking her head sadly.

When he pushed the door to her room open, Dawn was lying on her bed and he couldn’t believe the change in just a few short hours. Her eyes were circled with purple bruises and her normally exquisite pale skin had a ghostly, blue-ish tinge to it. Dressed only in a black cotton tee-shirt, she finally looked like the ghost she had claimed all along to be. He placed the tray gently on her table and knelt down by her head. She smiled at him weakly.
         “Hi Greg. You’re missing dinner you know? You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiled as she scolded him, half serious. A tear trailed down his face and she thumbed it away gently.
         “Will you stop? You’re as bad as them. I already told you, I can’t die twice,” she said confidently, then she smiled suddenly and brightly, “Unless…maybe you’re my purpose Greg. You started eating properly when I came here didn’t you? Because I nagged you so much you started eating just to shut me up.” She smiled at him tenderly and he laughed slightly, though he was blinded by his tears, “Maybe…I saved your life, so I’ll be forgiven for taking my own,” she said almost decidedly. He shook his head and wiped his tears away impatiently.
         “Dawn you…you aren’t dead. Listen to me. When you jumped off the bridge, you landed on a car yes? Well they saved you. They took you to hospital and they saved you. You never died, you just don’t remember that part. Look,” he said, and held her arm out to call attention to a huge scar that ran from her inner elbow all the way to her wrist, “That’s where you cut yourself on the car’s windscreen, but other than that you were fine. They couldn’t believe you’d survived but you did Dawn. You’re a miracle all on your own.” She stared at him blankly, neither belief nor disbelief on her face. Slowly though, she shook her head dazedly. He took hold of her hand firmly and pressed it against his chest.
         “You feel that?” he whispered, “You feel my heart beating?” She nodded softly, and he transferred her hand to her own chest. Her heart beat was faint, fluttering and unsteady but it was certainly there. “You feel that? You feel you own heart beating?” he said and she nodded, her wide grey eyes blank with shock. She stared at him in fear, and tears began to pool in her eyes. “I love you Dawn,” he whispered, “I really do, and I’m not going to lose you. I’m going to save you,” he promised and very slowly he moved towards her. Softly, and carefully, he pressed his lips against hers. Her mouth was freezing. For a split second she was still, and gave no indication she’d even noticed his kiss. He was about to pull away from her when she leaned her face to his and kissed him back with a force that surprised him. He wrapped his arms carefully around her thin frame and held her closely and protectively to his body. She put her hands on the back of his neck and clung to him like a woman saved from drowning. She pulled away and gazed up at him breathless, her eyes shining.
         “I’m alive.”