Page 13 of Phoenix

Chapter 3

Nora

Two weeks after Brendon came through our ER, I find myself unable to shake him, and how part of me relates to him so deeply, from my mind. I wrote every night after that. There was so much emotion, so many thoughts pouring from my pen.

For years, I’ve expertly taught myself to bury the night of the fire within my heart, only letting things out onto paper. Months, years even, will pass by and I won’t even think about it. I’ll date, I’ll work, I’ll be with friends, I’ll laugh, I’ll play... and then like a freight train, it hits me in the chest, and I’m that little girl again. Inhaling smoke, coughing and screaming for my parents as they run back inside that apartment building.

Even as I ride the elevator up to the burn unit I can feel the terror, and as the doors slide open, I take a deep breath and set out for the nurses’ station. I want to know how Brendon is doing.

I approach the counter and spot a pile of red hair at the computer. “Psst. Better get to work,” I say with a smile, and I'm met with the kindest pair of blue eyes.

“What are you doing up here? People will think I’m fraternizing with the enemy.” Gabe scoots away from me like I have cooties. It’s a little joke in the hospital that nursing teams are mortal enemies. All in good fun of course. “Shoo. Take your skinny ass outta here.”

“You called me skinny?” I place my hand on my chest dramatically. “Thank you.”

“Skinny with tits and ass. If I didn’t bat for the other team, I’d push up on you so fast.”

“That’s a compliment I’ll cherish forever, Gabe.” I blow him a kiss. “I actually came up here for a reason. Brendon Taylor.”

“He’s been on my rotation. I heard you were on his trauma team.”

“How is he?”

“Follow me. He is still sedated, so we can peek in for a sec.” He rises from his seat and leads me down the hall to the room in the corner.

“Sedated? Why is he sedated?”

He sets off into a long, detailed explanation, but in layman’s terms, an out of control infection—and the severity of his burns—led to the need to amputate his arm.

The sound all around me fades away like there is cotton in my ears when my eyes land on his tiny form in the giant hospital bed.

My heart is broken for him...for his family.

“Did his family ever show?” I ask in a whisper.

“His aunt is here, but she had to leave to handle something with the state. His parents, they didn’t make it out of the house,” he says.

I place my hand over my heart as it breaks even more for that little boy.

“Take care of him, Gabe. Promise me.”

“You know I will. You okay, Nora? You’re white as a ghost.” He places a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m fine, I just…” I rub my hand over my chest, “I don’t feel well.”

“Let me get you some water.”

“No. No, it’s okay, really. I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure he was all right.”

I turn to leave as nausea overtakes me. I just barely make it into the bathroom down the hall before I lose all the contents of my stomach.

It’s been years since this type of anxiety has ruled my life. I’ve been able to keep it at bay through all the patients, all the injuries, all the heartbreak, but now...I can’t get that night all those years ago out of my mind.

It’s all around me. It’s in my nightmares, in my daydreams, it’s overtaking me.

I step out of the bathroom stall and bend over the sink to rinse the rancid taste from my mouth. Wiping my mouth with a paper towel, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

When did I become this person? The person who can’t keep her shit together to do her job?

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