by Peter Martin
‘Sure you don’t want something to eat?’ Doctor Reynolds said chewing her food slowly before moving on to the next bit.
‘I already told you I’m not hungry. Why don’t you listen to me? Like I said before, you’re just like my mum and dad. No wonder I freaked out.’
‘I promise, I’ll always listen to you, that’s my job. It’s what I’m paid for. To hear every word you say because I need to understand your condition so I can help you get well again.’
Donna felt uncomfortable sitting there in front of this woman and wanted to go back to her room.
Doctor Reynolds finished her meal and drank her coffee before sitting back in her chair. ‘That was very nice. I think you’ll find the food here is really excellent.’
‘Oh sure it is. I’m not hungry – how many times do I have to repeat myself? And besides it doesn’t matter how good the food is, it won’t make me like it here – will it?’
The doctor dabbed her mouth with her serviette. ‘Look, if you want to take that attitude – fine. But you will have to accept you’ll be here until you convince us you won’t try to harm yourself again. You need to have a good hard look at yourself and think about how lucky you are compared with most other people. Ok, I realise you’ve been through a harrowing experience, but you can recover from it if you really want to. The choice is yours.’
‘Can I go back to my room now?’
‘If that’s what you want. It’s nice to get out though, isn’t it? Just think if you co-operate and get yourself well again, there may be lots more trips like these. In fact I might even extend them in time.’
Donna gave her a sickly smile as they left the canteen. Walking back down the corridor together, Donna realised she could have made a run for it, but quickly dismissed this notion - it was cold and she had nowhere to go once she was outside anyway.
‘We’re going to have lots of talks, you and I. I want to get to the root of your problems, and with your co-operation hopefully, I’ll get you out of here a lot sooner than you think. However, I can only guide you - in the end you must do this yourself.’
Donna didn’t care what happened. She just existed from hour to hour. What did it matter anymore? Her parents were behind this, she was sure of it; and had known it right from the start. This was a ploy to get her back into modelling, but it would never come off. The trouble now was her pangs of hunger were getting worse. Her willpower wouldn’t last much longer, but if she succumbed, Doctor Reynolds would consider it a small victory.
They arrived at Donna’s room. ‘Ah, well here we are again. Nice rooms, aren’t they? I said they were very comfortable, didn’t I?’ Doctor Reynolds said as she opened the door. ‘Oh by the way, I took the liberty of getting some sandwiches brought up for you, in case you get peckish in the night. You take care now.’
Donna pulled a face as the doctor closed the door and left her to it. The sandwiches, on a plate by her bed, looked very appetising. She closed her eyes, realising how hungry she was, and wished she could have thrown them on the floor, but instead grabbed them and ate them hungrily as if she hadn’t eaten for a week. Then went to the bathroom sink and drank water greedily by cupping her hands.
Later in bed she felt a failure and cried herself to sleep. Her instinct to survive had driven her to give in to her cravings for food.
The next morning, Donna pretended to be asleep, when the door to her room opened, and the doctor entered coughing loudly. She gently shook Donna by the arm and called her name. On opening her eyes, she noticed the smugness on the doctor’s face and guessed she must have seen the empty plate.
‘Glad you’ve finally seen sense.’
Donna said nothing, but instead stared up at the ceiling feeling ashamed of her lack of control.
‘This is the first step, you know.’
‘Oh yeah, tell me about it.’
‘The tablets and my therapy will only work if you take care of yourself. By this I mean you should eat well, exercise lots and take enough rest and sleep which will in turn lead to a healthier body and mind. Obviously, there are still be many obstacles to overcome, but once you begin to do as I’ve said, I’ll feel much more positive about your recovery.’
Donna felt so despondent and was powerless to do anything about it. And as if to rub salt in her wounds, the doctor looked so pleased with herself; so certain she could help in the recovery process, now that Donna had given in to living again. Maybe it was best to let the woman think that. But she need only to drop her guard for a minute, and Donna would set about doing something even more dramatic. And how would the good doctor feel then?
Chapter 14
SLOWLY, DONNA GOT USED TO THE ROUTINE OF HER EXISTENCE IN HOSPITAL. But she hated the intrusion into her privacy, as she felt it was a case of big brother gone mad, watching her every move. All right, she deserved to be on suicide watch, but resented constantly being monitored, and was frustrated she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Maybe if she tried to act normally, they would relax their restrictions on her, but so far there was no sign of that.
Doctor Reynolds seemed pleased with her progress, as following her first concession, Donna ate well, and acted like a model patient. As her hair grew back, they encouraged her to take more pride in her appearance. She had her hair cut fashionably when it got long enough, and wore make up and clothes that were modern.
Donna guessed the doctor had kept her parents informed about the improvement she was supposedly making during their weekly confabs – but what would they say if they knew what was really going on inside her head? They’d be so shocked. Well, she’d never let them find out.
Gradually, more progress brought more freedom. They allowed her to walk through the hospital grounds and was given the run of the hospital itself as long as a member of staff accompanied her. She ate with other patients and staff, and was even visited by her parents on occasions, an ordeal she got through but could have done without. All Doctor Reynolds insisted on was confinement to her room every evening. However, they told her, should her recovery continue, that too may be relaxed.
In truth, Donna didn’t feel any better. Her mood dipped lower than ever - she suffered from palpitations at night and yearned for the chance to either break free or find some other release.
As the weeks passed, they allowed her time in the garden alone for longer and longer periods – and she knew it wouldn’t be long before an opportunity would come.
<><><>
On a particularly beautiful hot summer’s day in the middle of June, the sky was clear, but a brisk breeze cooled the temperatures.
She sat on a bench immediately outside the main building. Her pose was stiff, her expression bland and lacking emotion The weather had caused her to reminisce of times long gone, spent with Blake and friends, when her life had been simple and carefree; a time when harming herself never entered her head.
She’d got permission to stay alone in the garden for an hour and knew they wouldn’t fetch her yet a while. So after a short time, with no exact plan in mind, she went back inside – and then she just went where her feet took her.
On entering the building, she walked through the reception area amongst patients and staff, some of whom openly acknowledged her with smiles and words, never giving her a thought as they were used to seeing her around.
That first bit had been easy, it gave her greater confidence. She smiled to herself, breathing in deeply as she continued on her way.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins; her hands shook slightly, and she felt hot and clammy. Could she go through with this? With her desire so great, she guessed she could. And the release from life would be so wonderful and pure – the best feeling in the world.
She walked down a corridor past various rooms until she came to the lift. Pressed the button to call for it and within seconds the door pinged open. To her relief, when two nurses got out, the lift remained empty. Once inside, as the doors shut, she selected button four for the top floor and waited for the lift to reach its
destination.
The lift clicked at the fourth floor, and opened. Donna got out immediately and after about twenty paces noticed a doorway to the left marked Staff Only. Trying the handle she was surprised to find it opened at once. This led to a dimly lit hallway, at the end of which was a flight of stairs. Her heart thumped in her chest as she hastily climbed to the top to find another door. As she tentatively opened it she was confronted with what must be the air conditioning area. Huge fans hummed away, and large silver coloured metal ducts stuck out, their purpose she couldn’t fathom. A final door stood directly in front of her, which she guessed had to lead outside. Walking towards it, she felt relieved no one was about or had tried to stop her.
The door creaked as she turned the handle, but to her amazement, it opened. As the bright sunshine hit her full in the face she screwed up her eyes. She bowed her head, and stepped out onto the flat roof, where going round its perimeter was a metal rail about four feet high.
Walking over to the railings she took in the views from this high up. The grey buildings of Dexford stood in front, and in the distance took in an impressive view of green hilly countryside which also skirted the town. Everything looked so different from up here, she’d never realised there were so many trees or how beautiful the landscape was.
As she touched the rail, she was surprised to find how hot the sun had made it. She pulled her hand away and laughed, feeling dizzy and light-headed as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Down below, she saw the figures below going about their daily business, unaware of her intentions. She wondered what sort of lives they led. Nothing like the life she’d been made to suffer and was destined to endure forever - unless she did something about it?
She peered down at the rail, spat on part of it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then wiped it with her sleeve. Then raised herself up and over to sit on it, her feet dangling, and hands gripping tightly.
Could anyone down there see her, she wondered? Maybe she should try to attract their attention, and raising her hand shouted loudly, ‘Hey, you lot down there!’
Within a few seconds, several figures lifted their heads to look up. Donna could just see the shocked frightened looks on their faces as they gathered in small groups. It reminded her of the audiences she used to hate facing during her modelling days. Well, maybe this time she wanted them all to watch her most dramatic performance.
Then hearing people shout up to her, she took a deep breath, and hanging on to the rail, stood up unsure of what she wanted to do. In that spit-second she heard her name being called. ‘Donna.’ Said the whisper of a voice.
She turned her head to see a young man with short jet-black hair, and the blue shadow of a beard on his face. He wore a white top and pants, which made her realise at once that he was a member of staff.
‘Piss off - and leave me alone,’ she screamed at him, flecks of spit coming out of her mouth in her passion.
‘Donna, I want to help you. I can see what you’re thinking about doing, but believe me you couldn’t be more wrong. For a girl like you, it would be tragic. And for what? Nobody’s worth dying for, babe.’
‘How do you know my name?’ she shouted.
‘I’ve seen you about. People have mentioned you.’
‘I don’t want to live. You don’t understand.’
‘Look, everybody feels like that at some time in their lives. But that doesn’t mean we have to do something about it. We get help and somehow get through it. This won’t solve anything, except to cause grief and pain to the loved ones you’d leave behind. Is that what you really want?’
‘No one cares about me.’
‘How can you say that? There’s no way that’s true.’
‘It is,’ she insisted, her eyes widening with anger.
‘Well, I care about you for a start. Think I’d be up here talking to you if I didn’t? How’s it going to make me feel if you jump and splatter yourself all over the pavement like a bag of squashed tomatoes? I’d have nightmares about it for years to come, and so would everyone down there watching you. You want to do that to strangers who’ve never done you any harm?’
‘You have no idea about what’s happened to me.’
‘You’re right I don’t. But you’re not on your own, you know. Other people go through hell; yet somehow they come out the other side. There are millions of folks worse off than you - you haven’t got the faintest idea. Tell you what I’ll do, since you’re that keen to jump, why not let me do it instead? See how you like it.’ And with that, quick as a flash, he whisked himself over the rail to sit on it a few feet away from her, the same as she had.
Donna was horrified, her heart jumped, her eyes wild and threatening.
‘Don’t you dare come any closer, or I swear I’ll...’she said raising up her hand to stop him.
‘Don’t worry; I’m not coming any closer. But I might just jump off myself. Then you can look at what’s left of me down there dead. Fancy that, would you?’ He breathed in and out deeply, sweat dripped off the end of his nose.
Donna suddenly couldn’t think straight. He was bluffing – wasn’t he?
‘I mean it, babe.’ He let go, balanced himself with his arms outstretched, then stood up, leaning back against the rail. As the breeze stiffened, he wavered slightly.
‘Please no. Don’t do it!’ She stared at him in disbelief.
‘Well, get back over there then, before I fall.’
‘All right, all right,’ she scowled, climbing quickly over to the other side of the rail. But then once she was safe, he stumbled. She gasped with shock unable to move, transfixed by the situation as now the tables had turned. His one hand had grabbed the rail just in time. As she looked on, his teeth were clenched; it took all his strength to move his other hand back onto the rail and pull himself back up onto the ledge. Then having rested for a few seconds, he climbed over to where Donna stood.
His breathing became deep and rapid, and he was visibly shaking, eyes fixed on Donna, clearly thinking about their dice with death. As she came to her senses the shame of it tormented her, and if he’d fallen, oh my God that would have been on her conscience forever. How would she have lived with that?
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said simply, unable to look him straight in the eye.
‘It’s all right. My own fault. I’ve always been too clumsy for my own good. The main thing is that I stopped you from jumping - thank goodness.’
‘You were very brave,’ she said as the colour came back to her cheeks.
‘Stupid, more like.’
‘You saved my life.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. You didn’t want to jump anyway; or you would have already done it whether I’d been there or not. Like most people who find life hard to cope with, this was just a cry for help.’
‘Oh really?’ She took in a deep breath as her anger rose again.
‘Yes, really.’
‘So you’re an expert on these sort of matters, are you?’
‘Let’s just say, you’re not the first suicide attempt I’ve come across in this place. I’ve seen the successful attempts and the unsuccessful attempts, and I’m telling you; you don’t want to hear about the unsuccessful attempts; and how it left them. They all wished they hadn’t done it. Thank God I got you to pull out at the last minute.’
All of a sudden, she became uncomfortable.
‘Come on, let’s get you inside. You’re soaked with sweat, and you need a change of clothing.’ He guided her towards the door, his left arm draped around her shoulder. They went into the room containing the air conditioning apparatus.
Donna walked with the young man, who appeared to be limping slightly, and wondered if he’d just hurt himself, but didn’t like to ask in case she’d been the cause of it, amongst other things.
‘I’m Evan by the way,’ he said introducing himself, giving her a warm smile. His light-blue eyes, reminiscent of Paul Newman, the actor, lit up. She quivered a little.
‘Are you Welsh, Evan?’
‘I couldn’t tell you, maybe there was a link a long time ago. It was my dad’s name. These days my family are all Dexford born and bred.’
‘And what else do you do here besides saving potential suicides?’
‘I’m a male nurse, and I’m so glad I was in the right place at the right time.’
‘That’s not very butch.’ She grimaced as he pressed the button for the lift.
‘Maybe not, but it’s a satisfying job, even if it is a bit hair-raising at times.’
The lift opened. They got in.
She smiled.
‘Feel a bit better now?’
‘You mean will I pull another stunt like that again? No idea. All I can tell you is that now I’ll be on suicide watch again. Back to square one.’
When the lift reached the ground floor and opened, Doctor Reynolds and two nurses stood waiting to take her patient off Evan’s hands. Donna glanced at Evan. He seemed nice she thought, but what did that matter, since all she had to look forward to now was withdrawn privileges and more supervision. He guided her out of the lift towards the psychiatrist who looked so relieved to see her back safely. Donna knew if she had jumped to her death, the blame would have been put squarely on the doctor’s shoulders for allowing her too much freedom before she was ready.
Evan waved as he left to carry on with his own duties, which she’d so rudely interrupted.
‘Donna – why on earth did you do this? After all your treatment has been going so well,’ Doctor Reynolds asked, taking hold of her arm.
‘I don’t know, do I?’
They walked in silence down the corridor until they reached Donna’s room. Once inside the doctor sat on a chair beside her bed.
‘I can’t understand why you did it? Your progress has been really good, and I was so optimistic about discharging you into your parents care for a short while very soon. But now you’ve thrown away all the good work by this stupid stunt. Words fail me.’ She stared straight at Donna waiting for a reply.