The Flatmates From Hell – PT3: The Reveal of True Colours

As we continue in a downwards spiral into this hell house things actually got a little bit better.  A & B had stopped screaming at one another and Jamie and I started to get some sleep.

But like all good things; they have to come to an end. Oh boy oh boy did they. There is one vital person we have been skimming over because only now does their story become relevant to this tale of all tales. Emma*, young but well traveled gal had been sitting on the outside and was constantly looking in. Just like Jamie and I. Though we were to find out that this girl would be dealing with it all in a very different way. First, she lost her job. 90 days came up and her contract was not renewed though she wasn’t put off by it all she soldiered on.

It was a quiet Tuesday night and Jamie, Emma and myself were home. A, had not come home after work and she texts to explain that her and B have broken up (again). We said we were here for her if she needed anything. B, though was in their room and he wasn’t very happy. (A, was rather cute if I am honest so I could understand, though I don’t think that now.) He wanted to talk with her and try win her back and took her car to her work. Picked up a bottle of vodka and told her through texts that he was going to pick her up and take her to the park to get drunk like they did when they first got together (how romantic).

The trio of us were kinda worried. She was being forced into a situation, to drink to be manipulated by a guy who she had just broken the heart of. You do the math here guys.

6 hours rolls by. We hear nothing though we said; stay in contact. Get so worried we contact her sister. Shes even more worried. She knows B was manipulative. Calling her sister was a big move, I get that. Her sister came round, worried and scared of what might be happening out in the dark.

Still we waiting hearing nothing from A. In this time Emma* was drinking. At quiet a fast pace though my hospo eyes didn’t spot that. She was rather tipsy in the corner. Quietly drunk one could say. Then A & B turned up. She stumbled through the door holding a bottle of vodka that had a significant dent in it. B, walked through the door and straight to his room. A, came into the living area to see her sister and flat mates sitting there waiting for her.

She was not impressed. She was drunk and angry. Asking why her sister was here, yelling at us because she was fine (drunk) and her and B were back together. Though I think she may have forgotten, till we told her that we knew they had broken up.

B, was still in his room and A’s sister wanted to chat with her about what had been going on. So A, poured two drinks and took her sister to Emma’s room where they chatted for a little bit till A came running out asking if Emma wanted a drink (and when you are already drunk, drinking straight vodka seems like a great idea). So for the next little while they made an even bigger dent in the cheap vodka.

So now Emma and A are really drunk. Whilst A’s sister is sober like myself and Jamie looking at this now even more fucked up situation.

The night progresses and it heads down hill. I walk into the bath room and there is Emma, passed out on the ground. She doesn’t respond to me when I try to wake her and I tell you now I thought she was dead for three seconds.

I call Jamie, tell him to get the car ready and that we are going to hospital. I get a jersey, walk back into the bathroom where Emma is now sitting up and get more clothes on her so we can leave. Then A walks into the bathroom. Freaks out at the situation (like any drunk white girl) and starts screaming at me (again). I tell her that Jamie and I are going to take her to hospital and we would keep her updated.

Well, she wanted to come didn’t she. Because she cared so deeply about this 19 year old who she had now got so intoxicated that she couldn’t tell me her own name. Jamie had the car ready, B and I carried this girl to the car where A and put herself in the back seat and now was screaming at her boyfriend B to get in the back. Jamie has a two door car. Which means 4 seats. No room for all of us.

A is already seat belted into the back seat and I managed to reason with B to stay behind and if he really wants to come in, to drive and meet us there.

So whilst Emma started to stir in the front seat she also started to reveal her current mental health. She started freaking out. Quick head movements, wide eyed and clutching at what ever she could grab. In this case it was her seat belt and the door. You can imagine Jamie is now  watching her so she doesn’t grab the hand break. This girl is having an anxiety attack thanks to the alcohol. Needless to say Jamie sped to the hospital.

As we pulled into Auckland City A&E a security guard spots us, gets a wheel chair and then spots A is the back of the car. His head tilts to the side to take a better look at her through the Toyota Levin. I am now out of the car with Jamie trying to get Emma transferred to a wheel chair. With the help of the security guard we begin the descent inside. Explaining to the nurse that she has had too much to drink and seems to be very agitated she asks Emma if she had taken any drugs. Straight up, blunt in the middle of the reception.

I didn’t even think of that. And everything starts to click. Though Emma doesn’t respond she turns looks up at me and clutches my hoodie and buries her face into my stomach. That look is burnt into my eyes. I thought drugs was the reason she was acting this way. But her toxicology results reveal a clean but drunk blood count.

The nurse tells us to go through the doors where we will be taken to a bay. Keep in mind I have just filled out the paper work for Emma and A is having a go at Jamie for a range of things. It’s 1am. I am tired and we have a long night ahead. All anyone wants is silence except for A.

Emma is just about to get onto the hospital bed with a fair amount of coaching, shes on her feet and for a brief second I feel proud of her for not losing it completely to an anxiety attack. Then A turns to the nurse who was there to put an IV line in for fluid and says the worst 7 words.

Are you going to pump her stomach? 

I have never wanted to punch someone in the throat so hard in my life. Jamie walked out of the room and Emma is now grabbing me and refusing treatment. There is a security guard in the door way watching A because she looks like shes on a damn boat with 15 meter swells. The nurse who is now quickly running out of any sort of patience  for the situation says “No, shes clearly awake. We just want to give her fluids.”

I am now staring at the ceiling, trying not to stab myself in the eyes. After what feels like forever Emma finally gets into the bed and A is now on the phone to B.

She said; “Imagine the worst thing to ever happen to you. Now times it by 10, then by 100 then by 1 million and add two. Because that is what I am dealing with. Seren and Jamie are such horrible people. Emma is okay, but I will stay with her. You should come up so we can take care of her.”

I turn to the security guard and ask if A can be removed. Shes drunk and causing more problems. He asks her to take her conversation outside as a hospital ward is no place for a phone call. What A didn’t realize was that the doors are one way. You have to be allowed back in. And she wasn’t going to be. So being ‘polite’ she wandered down the hall and out to automatic doors.

Praise the Baby Jesus it is now just me, Emma and Jamie is a darkened room. We had to calm Emma down to get her through the whole needle ordeal. But we were half an IV bag deep when she rolls over to look me in the eyes and begins to cry.

Jamie is asleep in the chair and she quietly says to me “I’m not okay”.

I simply replied with “that okay, I am here. I will be here when you wake up so close your eyes and try get some rest.” She fell asleep holding my hand.

Its now about 2.45ish. The nurse comes in to give her a new saline IV bag.

Emma wakes close to 4am and wants to go home. She wants her own bed. I wake Jamie get. Emma gets discharged and we walk in silence to the car. The radio is playing quietly in the background.

I put Emma into bed, where she tells me again “I’m not okay.”

I sit on her bed which is on the floor and tuck her in. I am pushing the blankets up around her face and remind her that Jamie and I are here for her. No judgement. No questions. Just here if she needs us.

I close the door, climb into bed with Jamie who is now passed out in bed and lay awake till his alarm goes off for work. I thought about all my action of that night. I agree with A that calling her sister was not necessary and that I should say sorry for that. I try not to get angry at her drunk comments and actions. I lay awake for hours thinking about the look Emma gave me and how she simply said that she wasn’t okay.

I fall asleep as Jamie heads to work and quietly give myself a reality check. Everything that just happened, the night that just unraveled was a Tuesday night. And all I can think to myself is that is can’t get worse than that.

When you reason with yourself that it cannot get worse is like knitting a safety web. It doesn’t exist because you are lying to yourself. A kind of sick joke waiting like a bomb to go off. This was the middle of November.

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A pretty sassy 25-year-old​ living in New Zealand.

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