Dawn's Tale

by Nicholas Knight

  “She’s a brick house,” Chad blurted out, referring to Dawn’s intoxicating well-proportioned figure. “If Dawn made a poster of herself, like that Farrah Fawcett one I have hanging on my wall at home, I’d never leave my bedroom.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Aaron agreed, “We all know that. Now, let her speak, Chad. It’s her turn. You had your turn,” again speaking to the live-in patients in a condescending tone of voice.

  “If you had a poster of Dawn like that,” William added, “You wouldn’t need any Scotch tape to stick it to the wall,” he muttered under his voice, just barely loud enough for everyone in the circle to hear.

  “Now that’s quite enough,” Dr. Aaron sternly announced, as the rest of the group chuckled and snickered at William’s comment. The only ones not laughing in amusement were of course, Chad, Dawn…and Reuben. “Please, Dawn,” Dr. Aaron said, “Share your story with the group,” he said in a consoling tone, “I promise there won’t be any further interruptions,” he added, as he gave the rest of the group a dirty look, as if to use his body language to warn them one final time.

  “My name is Dawn Moon,” she said in an almost mousy voice, “Much like Reuben, I also suffer from PTSD.” Reuben saw that Dawn began to get nervous, as if afraid to share with the group, “Um, this is Joshua,” she said, trying to take the focus off her, and move on to the last person. “Joshua doesn’t talk. He’s not mute, but he just chooses not to speak. He’s a bit of a panty waste, but only because his bitch ex-wife screwed him over so badly, that she literally made him switch teams,” she said, with a phony baloney, forced smile, making it clear that she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there. “Now, he’s a Nancy-Boy, but not one you want to turn your back on. Now, Joshua just takes out his anger by burning the possessions of his old flames, or trying to burn those who piss him off.”

  “Now, Dawn,” Dr. Aaron said, again using the patronizing tone of his already condescending manner. “Relax. Just relax. It’s okay. We all love you here, don’t we?” he said, asking the group for moral support on her behalf.

  “Yeah,” the group said simultaneously and collectively, not excluding her ginger-headed secret admirer.

  “By the way,” Dr. Aaron said, “Before we let Dawn begin again, and tell us the truth about herself, I just wanted to clarify that Joshua is not only here for being a pyromaniac, but that he was traumatized when he was a young boy. From what I read in his file, his father had ran a bath for him, not paying attention to the water temperature. When he put Joshua in the bathtub, the water was so hot that it scolded him. What made it worse was, he never cried out or communicated this to his father...because he liked it. He enjoyed the pain. He thrived on it. When the father finally realized what he had accidentally done, he screamed for help, and quickly lifted Joshua out of the tub. His wife called for an ambulance, and Joshua was treated that night for second and third degree burns. His father never forgave himself, and became an alcoholic. His mother eventually left and began a new family with another man. Joshua, because of the nerve damage that resulted from that experience, not only became fond of burning things, but became immune to physical pain...and even found he enjoys giving and receiving fire. Okay, Dawn, we’re ready.”

  “My name is Dawn,” she began again, closing her legs and tightening her inner thighs around her folded hands, which were pressed up against her warm vaginal region, as she leaned forward. “I’m eighteen. I arrived here almost a year ago, shortly before I was to start my senior year of High School. I came here involuntarily. My preacher father came upstairs, when he noticed water leaking from the ceiling, and found me incoherent in the overflowing bathtub, after downing a handful of sleeping pills. I was trying to escape from having to go to court for aggravated assault,” she said as she covered her mouth to cough. “I was very resistant the first day or two here, but I was assigned a great psychiatrist, who told me that pills don’t listen to me, love me, or give me encouragement. Eventually, I came around, and got along socially with the other patients and staff.”

  “That was very nice,” Dr. Aaron complimented, “Very nice indeed. I’m Dr. Aaron. I went to school for a long time, to be where I am today. I don’t have any issues or problems, and because of my superior intellect and prestigious education, I can do what I love, and be here for misfortunate misfits like yourselves.”

  Reuben noticed the way Dr. Aaron was ogling Dawn, as he vocally approved what she had to say, and likely relished even more what she chose to not say. Dawn was convincing, to the point where she could have easily won a best actress award. Reuben guessed that she had memorized this speech, beforehand, as if to prevent herself from mistakenly exposing her real feelings, or letting something slip that she preferred to keep secret and hidden. Reuben had seen enough to know that there was much more to her concealed tale, and figured that it must be darker than he could have ever possibly imagined or fathomed on his own.

  “I can dig that,” Reuben blurted out, even though his turn had already came and passed. “If you were more like me, you wouldn’t have required sleeping aids. I used to sleep all day, and sometimes through the night as well. I found it helped pass the time, and kept me from dwelling on my loneliness and solitude. It also helped me see my folks as seldom as possible, if I just slept my life away in the cellar. I once bought into the God thing. I was raised to. But my parents reamed me, both verbally and physically, and kept me tucked away in the basement. They told me it was for my own good, as I do have a bona fide malady, which puts me in peril around sunlight, but it was because they were mortified of me. I was an embarrassment, an abomination unto the Almighty, as they reminded me of that often. They were devout Catholics, and even volunteered regularly at their church.”

  As Reuben listened to himself speak about his parents, he perceived that he was doing so in the past tense. Considering that his parents were still alive, this was highly inapt. Reuben subconsciously analyzed that perhaps he referred to them as historical, since he knew they were glad to be rid of him and because somehow he knew, deep in his lost soul, that he wouldn’t be seeing them again.

  “It behooves me to tell you that your mother brought you here, to get you help, Mr. Peterson,” Dr. Aaron interjected what Reuben had said, reiterating what he had told him before, in the confidence and privacy of his office.

  “Yeah, and we all know how helpful you and your madhouse are, don’t we, doctor?” Reuben added, in his defense. “She probably brought me here, to evade interrogation, if the pigs found me dead in her house.”

  Dawn suddenly recognized Reuben as the man who was spying on her, and who had saved her from falling, while she was on the phone with one of her booty calls back home.

  “Okay, that will be quite enough,” the controlling doctor said, not advocating where he saw this heated discourse going.

  “We have that in common,” Dawn added, “I was molested by my father, who is an orthodox minister,” she said, suddenly feeling comfortable with the idea of opening up more...at least to Reuben, anyway. She caught herself directing her undivided concentration on Reuben, as if wearing invisible blinders that mentally blocked everyone else out from her line of view.

  “I’m sorry,” Reuben apologized, “I d-d-didn’t intend to stir up b-bad memories. Forgive me,” Reuben stuttered, not because of what he had said, but whom he had said it to.

  “What makes parents do this to their kids?” Dawn asked Reuben, as if the other people in the circle had literally vanished, as she continued to engage in an exclusive one-on-one interview with Reuben.

  The group could almost see the steam coming out of Dr. Aaron’s ears, as he grew irate, watching their discussion somehow evolve into a personal exchange between Reuben and Dawn. Dr. Aaron had lost control, and that fueled a furious rage that only he knew existed.

  “Your parents love you!” Dr. Aaron exclaimed, trying direly to regain the steering wheel of the session, “Again, why would they have brought you here, if they didn’t care?”

  “It’s simple,�
� Reuben began, “I should have seen it before. They must have calculated that if we were legally labeled as crazy, it would free them of all accountability for their sins against us.”

  “That’s crazy,” the ostensible doctor declared.

  “Is it?” Reuben asked, “Who believes a mental patient? Think about it. By having us marked as insane, and inserting us into this bedlam, it eludes them of all legal responsibility or any psychological guilt.”

  “Okay,” Dr. Aaron said, “I think that’s good for today. Let’s cut this short, and rejoin tomorrow. Hopefully with a better attitude,” the putative doctor added, as he threw his tattered Bible down on the floor in front of him, and slapped his knees with his palms, before getting up from his sanctimonious seat.

  William immediately rose up from his chair and went over to where the Bible laid, and quickly scooped it off the dirty floor.

  “I can’t believe Dr. Aaron did that,” William said, “That’s not the way you treat sacred books,” he added, as he inconspicuously shoved the Bible down his pants, as if making a futile attempt to somehow shoplift it from the mental ward.

  As the group casually dispersed and the individual patients went their separate ways, staying within the confines of the sanitarium, Bethany and Benjamin stopped dead in their tracks.

  “Oh my God,” Chad said, “It’s Barbara.”

  “Oh my God,” Benjamin said, “I’m so buggin’ out right now.”

  “She looks so Zen,” Thomas added, with a despondent look on his face.

  The four of them stood frozen in incredulity, as their stolen friend, who had been absent for a lengthy period of time, applied what limited energy she had left to trudge into the conference room. Barbara looked as if she had been thoroughly lobotomized, as she moved like a mindless zombie who had long suffered from chronic insomnia. Reuben, who was once again following Dawn like a dependent puppy, broke from his mission of hedonistic debauchery, and selflessly hastened over to Barbara. His clinical peers just stood in utter shock, as Reuben quickly motioned to help place the catatonic woman in a cushioned metal chair. Bethany, Chad, and Benjamin trailed almost obediently behind him, as did the human sugar to Reuben’s sweet tooth. Dawn had been making her way out the door, when she descried Reuben’s compassionate gesture, and was so taken by his genuine kindness and empathy that she hung her mouth open and panted. Reuben knelt humbly before Barbara, with torrid tears in his organically bloodshot eyes, as the stunning Dawn laid her solicitous hand on his gelid shoulder.

  “That’s not quite what I’d call it,” Reuben said, in response to Thomas’s keen yet misinterpreted observation. “This woman’s not at peace, Thomas. She’s had pieces taken out of her.”

  “You’re not jive talking,” Chad said, agreeing with Reuben that Barbara had been severely damaged and tampered with.

  “Come on,” Dawn gently urged Reuben, “They’ll keep her company. Come on, ‘Red’…let’s book.”

  “Book?” William asked, instantly excited at the mere sound of his favorite word, “Where?”

  Reuben picked himself up, and slowly but surely followed Dawn out of the banquet-sized area.

  “Check you later, Dawn,” Chad said, as he watched her totally hot ass strut out of the room, significantly disappointed to see her arm-in-arm with Reuben. “One of these days,” Chad said aloud to himself, “That stone cold fox will be mine.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing her in a pair of hot pants,” Thomas added.

  “Fuck that,” Chad said. “If she were mine, she’d never wear pants. Girls who come to my pad, aren’t allowed to wear any clothes…at least not from the waist down…unless they’re edible pants or sweat pants, that give me easy access and are easy to take off.”

  “That’s harsh,” William said, coming up behind them, after overhearing their brief but overheated conversation, “Dawn’s a human being, not a piece of meat.”

  “Right on, spaz” Chad said, “that fine, foxy mama is primo grade stash, and I’m dying to toke it…over and over and over again…till that flame is tamed, and branded with my name,” Chad added with drool practically dripping from the corner of his cotton mouth.

  While the immediately flirtatious couple made their way to the main hallway, William hustled to catch up with them, and cut them off, to grab their attention for a moment.

  “Hey, Reuben, wait up, man!” William said, “I just wanted to say that I think it was really admirable what you did back there for Thomas, man. That Kenneth is always ragging on those of us who are smaller and weaker than him, which pretty much includes all of us. You’re alright, man,” William said, as he extended his hand for Reuben to take and shake.

  “No problem,” Reuben said, as he courteously and politely shook William’s offered yet self-righteous hand. “Don’t let Kenneth get to you, man. He’s just a jive turkey. His bark is much worse than his bite. I guarantee it.”

  Reuben, because of his parents’ neglect and abuse, had been isolated and secluded all of his life, and was therefore a social virgin. That being said, it was in his instinctive DNA, to have a natural sixth sense about people. He found he had a God-given knack for identifying and recognizing a person’s true character…or lack thereof.

  Kenneth, however, wasn’t one of those subjects that were difficult to read, as there were no hidden layers to his individuality. Kenneth was one of those few callous sadists that made no effort to hide it or cover it up, for selfish gain or blissful pleasure. Where others were easily manipulated and deceived, Reuben was quick to see through people’s seductive facade. This was partly what drew him to Dawn, aside from his intense attraction and obsessive infatuation to her phenomenal and incomparable beauty. He saw in her, an impaired but authentic heart, and one with wounds but without agenda. This led him to having a burning desire to learn more about who she was and how she could fit into his palm and lap.

  “Right on, man,” William said, as he casually walked off, leaving Dawn and Reuben to resume their quality alone time.

  Dawn led Reuben on a somewhat intimate detour to the smoking section, which she found to be more neutrally private. Taking the initiative in making the first move, she took Reuben by the hand. She sat on the lime green bench, and then eagerly ushered Reuben to sit close beside her.

  “I really like your name?” Dawn said, consciously trying to break the ice further, earnestly anxious to learn as much as she can about this tall, dark, and mysterious man.

  “Thanks,” Reuben cordially responded, returning the genial smile he had received from her earlier. “I dig your name too.”

  Dawn gazed into Reuben’s weary eyes, and saw that look she had become all too familiar with. She could tell when men craved her, and she saw this same look in him. This spooked her, but also intrigued her, as he also looked at her with undisputed warmth, which she wasn’t at all familiar with or accustomed to.

  “This place is so fucked,” Dawn told him, “Fucked up the ass.”

  “So,” Reuben began to respond, “Tell me what you’re really thinking,” he said sarcastically, to try and lighten up her mood a bit, with an inch of humor.

  Dawn just gave him a dirty look, as if to silently warn him of what could be unleashed, if pushed hard enough to the edge.

  “I know,” Reuben said, in attempt to revert back to before his last comment, “I haven’t been here as long as you have, but it’s crystal clear to me that this lunatic institution is redefining the term, malpractice.”

  “They tell you that their primary concern is rehabilitating, deprogramming, and that their ultimate goal is to stabilize you,” Dawn said, “but whatever they did to poor Barbara in there…is an entirely different story. It’s fucking unforgivable.”

  Reuben wraps his gangly arms around her delicate neck, sensing that she’s about to completely break down emotionally. His sensitive intuition proved to be both nurturing and reliable, as she began sobbing hysterically in his shoulder, as soon as he proffered it.

  “They’re supposed to give yo
u medication, therapy, and wait for you to get saner...not turn you into a lifeless vegetable,” Dawn said, sniveling into his uniform shirt and burying her pretty face in his constricted yet welcoming chest as he held her as close as he possibly could.

  “I’ve noticed that the ward’s policies are highly inconsistent, and very contradictory. They deprive us of, and deny us, certain amenities and luxuries, yet provide us with others that can equally be manipulated or manifested into suicidal weapons,” Reuben verbally expressed, sufficiently impressing Dawn with his extensive use of vocabulary.

  Dawn gleefully showed him her adorable dimples again, looking up at him as if he had been heaven sent. “Would you like to kiss me?” she hopefully invited, still snuggled tight in Reuben’s foreign but protective arms.

  Before Reuben could begin to answer her, Nurse Carl rudely imposed, popping in abruptly.

  “Okay, you two,” he said in a curt tone, “Let’s go. Get back to your own rooms. Now…before I decide to report both of you,” Carl threatened.

  “Report us?” Reuben questioned, “For what exactly?” he asked boldly.

  “Public display of affection,” Nurse Carl answered. “That’s not tolerated in this facility,” he hypocritically addressed. Carl, of course, didn't mind PDA at all, just as long as he was engaged as a participant.

  Reuben had finally met her, and was surprised and pleased to find her not repulsed by him. He was puzzled as to how she could be so affable, and not be chock full of rage, considering the tumult and tragedy that she had somehow survived. He was dumbfounded to learn that she was so young, or maybe he was just discovering that he had a fetish for the nubile. Maybe she didn’t seem more mature than her age. Maybe he was just a perverted deviant. Though Dawn was part Caucasian, he could see the dominant percentage of Cherokee in her genes. Up until now, he had pondered the idea of escaping, but that had all changed. He now had a reason to want to be there. It plagued him that Dawn was whoring around with the staff, but he had it in his head that she would be his, even if he had to die to win her devoted affections.