Paige would sometimes slip into moments where she remembered Chance in the beginning of their dating.
He was sweet, charming, respectful—and fine as hell. Everything seemed to be going well. They were having the times of their lives.
Then something changed.
Chance became someone she didn’t recognize. He became controlling and, quite frankly, scary to her. Although she loved him dearly, she had become anxious around him.
Now, her hands tremble at the mere thought of him. Her chest tightens. Her breathing impedes her lungs at a rate well beyond normal.
Patience had been standing in the doorway, calling out to Paige for about three minutes now.
This last time, she yelled, “Paige Amore!!”
Paige jumped out of her trance and turned to her mother.
“Ma! Why are you yelling at me?”
“Girl, I have been calling your name for the last three minutes and you were just sitting there! What’s wrong with you?”
Paige looked at her mom and whispered, “Nothing, Ma.”
Patience approached her daughter out of concern, one eyebrow raised.
“Amore, I had you, baby. I know when something’s wrong—so spill it.”
Paige looked up at her mother, holding back tears, chest heaving.
“It’s Chance.”
Chance sat in the commons room at Bayou Center for Mental Health, staring out the window while everyone else either engaged with each other or walked in circles in a state of confusion.
Two years ago, he was the one yelling to let him out of here—convinced he didn’t belong.
There were folks here who believed people were living in their heads, some who talked to their “imaginary friends,” and one guy who swore his mom’s murderer walked beside him and tried to kill him on the regular. The guy would swing at shadows, fists flying through the air like he was fighting ghosts.
“Mr. Breaud.”
Chance turned to see Dr. Sylvie standing near the hallway entrance.
“Yeah, Doc?”
“Come with me for a moment,” Dr. Sylvie said.
Chance followed the man who held his future in his hands, into his least favorite room in the center.
Once inside the office, he sank into the couch he hated most.
Dr. Sylvie closed the door, then approached.
“How’s your day going so far, Mr. Breaud?”
“Man, call me Chance. And my day was fine until you called me in here. What’s up, Doc?”
Dr. Sylvie looked at him, stroking his beard.
“I know we’re getting close to your release date. I want to have a few more sessions with you to make sure you’re still on the right path to your betterment. That okay with you, Chance?”
Chance nodded.
“Great. Tell me, what excites you most about getting back home to your folks?”
Chance paused. He could care less about returning to his parents—they hadn’t visited or called in nearly eight months.
“I’m ready to begin my new life outside of these walls, Doc. I’m ready to see just what my future holds for me.”
Dr. Sylvie jotted notes in his file. Chance looked at him sideways—he hated those damn notes.
“Glad to hear you want to begin a new life. It helps that you continued your studies and finished high school. Are you thinking about furthering your education?”
“For what?!” Chance yelled. “Being in here killed every chance I had at a scholarship. What school wants someone who’s damaged goods—crazy?”
He spilled out his thoughts with slight aggression.
Dr. Sylvie looked at him calmly.
“Chance, you have to learn how to control those thoughts. You’re not damaged goods. And you’re not crazy. You have a different view of life, and that’s perfectly fine.
“But you do need to watch how you react in some situations. That’s something you do have control over.”
Chance hung his head low. He heard the doctor. And he knew he was right.
But what he wanted to say was—he didn’t see himself at school if Paige wasn’t there.
Yet, he kept that to himself. Mentioning her could cost him more time inside these walls.
Serenity heard the music begin to dance through her phone speakers.
“Dat my main one… dat my main one…”
She answered.
“Heyyyyy P!!! How’s it goi—”
Her words were cut off by Patience’s voice.
“Hey, Serenity. It’s Patience. Paige just filled me in on the events of the weekend. Can you come over with the text that you received, please? I want to get ahead of this.”
Serenity’s jaw hadn’t closed since she heard Patience’s voice.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Good. Oh—and Serenity? If you haven’t talked to Syn yet, I suggest you do. Or I will.”
Serenity’s hands began to sweat.
“Yes ma’am.”
She disconnected the call. Then let out the heaviest sigh—because once she opened this door, there’d be no turning back.
“Momma…” Serenity mumbled, heading toward her mother’s room.
Syn was just exiting the bathroom, wrapped in a robe with a towel on her head.
“Hey ba—” she paused. “Awww hell. Now what?”
Serenity began to cry—just at the thought of how her mom would react.
Syncere pulled her daughter in tight. She had only seen her in this state a handful of times… and every one of them involved a casket.
She just knew—this was serious.
“Tell me, Jynae. I’m here, baby.”
Serenity cried out,
“Mom… Chance is back. And he’s been messaging me and Paige saying… he’s coming for us.”
Syn’s head turned so fast it nearly spun like Regan from The Exorcist.
“He’s been what? He said he’s going to do what? And how long has this been going on?”
Syn couldn’t gather her thoughts in a paced manner.
“Mom!” Serenity yelled.
“No, Jynae!” Syn shouted, her voice cracking through the rising heat.
“We are not going through this again! That damn boy really has lost his marbles.”
“Can you come with me to Paige’s? Ms. Patience wants the texts from my phone.”
Syn looked at her baby girl—once excited to be starting her sophomore year of college.
Now she seemed dim. Off. Disconnected.
“Yeah, baby. Let me get dressed.”
Serenity exited the room to give her time.
Syn picked up her phone and dialed fast.
“Hello?” a man’s voice answered.
“Hey. It’s me. That crazy-ass boy is back—and he’s threatened my baby.”
The male responded.
“Say less. I’ll be there in an hour.”
And just like that, war was back on the table.
(To be continued)
Psst… The Bleed Room members get Part 8’s intro first. Tap in via @kaejaye_the_writer on IG.
Kae Jaye The Writer 