by M. N. Forgy
My bottom lip trembles as the coldest chill I’ve ever felt strikes me in the chest.
“Please, hold still,” she warns.
“Fuck you!” I jerk away from her. “SOMEONE HELP!” I scream, tears filling my eyes.
“You asked for it,” she hisses and drives the needle right into my thigh. I swear it hits bone it hurts so bad. Burning, stinging, mind-numbing coldness shoots into my veins.
My entire body instantly goes weak, my vision blurring.
“No, stop! Please!” I pathetically beg. “You don’t… you understand…” I begin to lose track of what I was saying. Fuzzy warm feelings buzzing through me.
“There is no club, Harley. There is no Benji, either,” she repeats, her voice echoing like an old bell. “Repeat after me,” she prompts.
My head rolls to the side, drool sliding out of the corner of my mouth. How’d that get there? My mouth was so dry seconds ago.
Voices in my head scream for help, but nothing comes out as I lay in a pool of sedatives.
“No, it’s real,” I sob, my throat clogging with emotion and numbness. Tears slip from my eyes and roll down my motionless face.
“It’s not,” she whispers into my ear. Her rancid breath the last thing I breathe in as everything goes… black.
“Are you with us, Harley?” A male voice echoes in my throbbing head. My eyes flutter open and the image of a man in a white lab coat doubles. I blink a few times, trying to get the image to stay still.
I was hoping being here was a nightmare and I would wake up in the club but the smell of lemon and piss tells me I’m still in hell.
“You’re in the Arizona Psychiatric Hospital. You don’t remember being a patient here?”
My eyes roll and I try to sit up, my back and sides very sore. My arms are suddenly jerked into place and I notice off-white belts restraining me to a bed. That’s right, I’m tied to a bed. My eyes snap from the belts to the man standing before me.
“You were very hostile and we wanted to make sure you as well as our staff were safe,” he informs. Now that I’m fully awake I can see him better. He looks to be in his thirties, blond hair with darker highlights, and no muscle tone to his body of what I can see. The way his nose points up at the end and his eyes narrow in on me. I can tell he thinks he’s better than me. He’s in control and he loves it.
“Where is Benji?” I demand.
The man clears his throat, frustration wrinkling his forehead.
“Harley,” he leans forward on his knees, “there is no Benji, there is no club. We’ve been through this. It’s all made up in your head, and you if you keep talking like this, you’ll never get out of here. Do you understand?”
“Who are you?” My voice breathy.
“I come in once a week to check on my patients. I was told you were having a rough day, so I came to check on you. I’m Dr. Witterchecker.”
My chest strikes with anger, my eyes as wide as saucers. He’s lying. He’s a fucking liar! Sobbing, I look down, my eyes falling on my tree line tattoo on my arm, and the saying, “Learn to get lost a little bit,” striking me in the chest like a thunderbolt.
My eyes widen, my heart fluttering with hope that my being here is temporary.
“Then explain this,” I ask through gritted teeth. The belts jingle as I tug my tattooed arm in his direction.
The man looks down at my tattoo, his thick caterpillar brows inching inward.
“You like to travel. It’s in your file. I assume you thought desecrating your body would make you feel more adventurous.” He shrugs, folding his hands in his lap.
My jaw drops, that little bit of hope I had in my chest snuffed out. Adventurous, that sounds like a load of crap.
“Who is paying you?” I growl.
“Maybe coming into population was too soon,” he murmurs to himself. He’s making me feel crazy, I’m not crazy!
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” I try and lunge at him, but am whipped back.
I scream, jerking the restraints so hard my right wrist snaps.
“Nurse!” Dr. Witterchecker moves to the side so the scary nurse can come in the room. She goes to the metal table and I continue freeing myself. My wrist burns, and aches from breaking it, but I push through the pain.
“I’m not crazy. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all!” I scream hysterically. Cold hands press into my thigh and the sting of the needle drowns me into the deep dark as I’m sedated again.
“Harley, come out from under the bed and meet Mr. Burt.”
Squeezing my mermaid doll to my chest I peer out from under the bed and see a man in black underwear. He’s old and wrinkly looking and has his hands on his hips. He looks mean and unfriendly.
“Do you want to come say hi?” Mom asks nicely. I look at the man again, and he smiles while nodding his head. A little voice in my head telling me to hide further in the darkness the bed held for me.
I shuffle under the bed to get away from them both. “No,” I scream. The last time I came out for one of Mommy’s friends, he made me uncomfortable. He kept petting me, and …
“Come out and say hi!” Mother snaps, her fake friendly tone now gone. Bending down she grabs one of my legs from under the bed, a lit cigarette hanging from her mouth as she attempts to force me out of hiding. My nails dug into the floor as I scream for the bugs in the wall to help me. My eyes filling with so many tears I couldn’t see in front of me anymore.
“Mommy, please no!” I begin to kick and squirm back under the bed.
The man crouches down and tries grabbing at my arms. Looking over my shoulder I use my free leg and I kick him in the face.
“MOTHER—” the man snaps upright holding his face.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Mother rushes to his side, not caring about me. She’s worried I might have hurt him and has her back to me. Slipping out from the under my bed, I run to my bedroom window and quickly I open it, and fall out. The sting in my ankle not slowing me down, I run.
Bare feet sticking to the ground, legs cold from the night, I run until I see black.
23
Two Days Later
Harley
Staring out the window of my room, I run my finger along the condensation forming on the window. There’s grass and benches in the backyard of the hospital. Patients who are stoned out of their mind wandering around mindlessly, they look like zombies. Their hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in days, and their gowns flow in the wind showing off pale bare asses of every shape and size. I wonder if I will be like them one day. Lost to the world and high on my daydreams. I was released from my bed yesterday, and my legs feel like twigs from not using them. My kneecaps feeling like they may succumb to my weight at any moment, and my arm is casted in blue due to the broken wrist I got in during my fit of rage the other day. I’ve never had a broken limb before.
If I were at the club, I’d have all the brothers sign it.
My fingers dip and curve against the cool glass until I spell out the name Benji. I’ve had no blackouts the last two days due to all the sedation. Farrah has gone to hide. I frown at that thought. I wonder if she’s gone for good. I don’t know what life is like not having her around, it scares me yet excites me.
I still don’t know what is real and what isn’t. I keep hoping every time I defy the staff their sedation will bring me back to Benji and the club if, in fact, they are a dream. The only thing I’ve seen though is things as a little girl. Living in that trailer with my mom and things I never wanted to remember. They’ve surfaced and it makes me feel like a different person replaying them. I was strong growing up, but only because Farrah made me strong. When I couldn’t handle something, Farrah took over. It was easy to hide behind her, now that she might be gone though… there’s no hiding. It’s just cold hard life.
Turning, I slide down against the cold brick making up the walls of my room, my ass coming to the concrete floor. I wince, my thigh aching from all the needle jabs.
I run my damp f
inger over the tree line tattoo on my arm and the saying underneath it, “Learn to get lost a little bit.”
“Baby,” I whisper to myself. This was not done because I like to fucking adventure, or go hiking. They’re all fucking lying here. They have to be, and if they’re not… I don’t care. Benji and the club are a lie I will live in for the rest of my life. It’s where I want to be.
Sitting in a circle with three other patients, I bite at my nails nervously. They’ve grown out the few days I’ve been here. Must be the horse vitamins they keep forcing down my throat every morning. The white gown I’m wearing does nothing to hide my pebbled nipples from the chilly air and I have to cross my arms to conceal them from the male patients. I swear they keep it below freezing in here on purpose.
I’ve seen two of the three patients sitting in the circle before. One is Jessilynn. She has long blonde hair and often braids it when she’s nervous. I can’t figure out why she’s in here though, she seems normal enough. The other is Memphis, half of her head is burned, leaving charred hair straight across her scalp. She has the darkest saddest eyes I’ve ever seen, and burn marks all over her arms and face. I overheard a nurse saying she burned herself because of the voices in her head. She scares me.
“Jacob, why don’t we start with you today,” Nurse Jackie looks to the third patient. She’s the horror story nurse I can’t stand. Always smelling of cigarettes and vodka.
I haven’t met Jacob yet. He’s tall, slender, and pale as hell. He has a blue cast on his right arm that looks just like mine, and he looks sad. Like everyone else in here.
“What the fuck do you want me to say exactly?” he clips, his eyes contouring into anger. He’s very resentful, and the way he’s breathing I can tell he’s about to explode.
“Why don’t you start with why you’re in here.” Nurse Jackie smiles, oblivious to this grenade about to blow.
He looks up under his lashes at everyone as if he’s embarrassed of why he is in here and I quickly look away. I don’t have it in me to find him. I’m already fighting myself.
“I tried to run my Jeep into a tree,” he shrugs, pulling at the strings of his gown. “I can’t even kill myself right,” he mutters.
“Why is death an option for you?” she prods, and my mouth drops at her insensitivity. How can she be so cold and forthcoming about something so serious? She doesn’t care about anyone in here. We are all hazard pay to her.
Jacob stands abruptly, knocking over the plastic chair.
“I’m fucking done with this shit.” He throws his hands out in distress, his face red. Jessilynn braids her hair not caring to the commotion, and Memphis cries hysterically at the chaos, holding her blanket close to her chest like a small child would.
I just watch.
Jackie sighs and looks at me as it’s my turn to open up to the group of strangers. My spine stiffens and I look to the tree line on my arm. I don’t want to talk to her. She makes me feel uncomfortable with her hollow stare, the smile constantly plastered on her face tells me she likes our pain. One snap of her fingers and two men will stride in here and stab me in the leg with whatever is in that syringe and put me in a mind-numbing state. Nightmares and reality of my mother swimming in my head for countless hours.
“Harley?” I jeer at the sound of my name. The way my name falls from her tongue is eerie.
Like Jacob, I stand and excuse myself to my room. I need some space. Everything here is so confusing and crazy. Having people in your face the whole time is too much.
“Harley, you cannot leave!” Jackie tries to grab at me as I walk by. I look over my shoulder with a glare and pick up my pace.
Before I know what’s happening, my feet are lifted from the stained floor by two large hands on each of my arms.
“Get off me!” I don’t know who has a hold of me, but I can tell it’s someone I don’t want touching me. Their hands are large and biting into the fat of my arms, the little effort they have in lifting me telling me they’re bigger than I am. Looking over my left shoulder, I find an orderly who is directed to manhandle the patients when disobeying. I’ve seen him do it a few times the last couple of days.
“You want to go to your room so bad? You got it,” he growls with a low tone. I find his name tag. “Peg?”
He smiles like a scumbag and I notice his two front teeth are gold. He reminds me of the men in my dreams with my mother and I go limp in his arms. He tries to place me on my feet, and I begin to kick and punch at him to let me go.
“Get off me, you troll looking fucker!” My pain and hollers echo through the halls, but nobody even glances in my direction. The sound of agony is habitual here. A lullaby to every patient’s path to their routine nightmare. Without it, they wouldn’t be able to function.
My feet shuffle and slam against the ground as he drags me to my room. My broken wrist protests and aches as I try and resist. Entering my room, he tosses me on the hard bed like a throw blanket, and Nurse Jackie is suddenly right beside me restraining my arms and ankles with the belts on the side of my bed.
I struggle by yanking my wrist and trying to twist free. The cast begins to shred around my arm, little frays of blue fluttering in the air. My eyes burn with the urge to cry, but I breathe through it as I scream like a mad woman.
She turns, allowing Peg to finish tying my feet to the bed.
“Let me go! I don’t belong here!”
The unmistakable stab in my thigh has me whimper as everything becomes dizzy. I relax into the stiff bed, my jaw becoming lax.
“Harley? Harley, where are you?” My mother’s eerie voice sounds in my head.
“Benji,” I whisper, willing him to be true and come rescue me.
“There you go,” Nurse Jackie coos, fingers in my hair feeling like snakes. I drift to a world of nightmares.
I hope I see Benji there.
24
Harley
“You new?”
Opening my eyes to the unfamiliar voice, everything is blurry at first. I feel sick to my stomach and my head throbs.
“If you don’t eat, those sedatives can make you puke,” the voice comes again.
Raising my head, I rub at my temples trying to ease the ache.
Wait, my hand is free. I look down, noticing I’m not restrained. Why would they release me so quickly?
“Fuckers are restraining happy around here.” I finally turn toward the female voice, finding Jessilynn sitting in the window seat of my room. Her legs are pressed to her chest, and a lit cigarette dangles between two of her fingers as she stares out the dirty glass. The little bit of sun that shines through casts a glow against her skin. She has the saddest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They look like the depths of the ocean nobody can explore, for they’d never be able to reach the top again if they tried.
Her face is pale, a few freckles painting the bridge of her nose and her lips are so pink you’d think she has lipstick on but that’s not allowed in here. It brings life to her face that you can’t look away from.
She reminds me of one of those glass dolls you see people put on their shelves.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask with a scratchy voice. Every word I speak echoes in my head from the sedative I was injected with. My leg sore, stiff, and bruised from all the needles being jabbed into it.
“You new here?” She gazes at me, tilting her head to the side in question.
“I don’t know… am I?” I ask, not sure if I’m new and the nurses are lying about my life just being a dream… or if they’re telling the truth and everything I thought my life was is a facade.
She shrugs, looking back out the grimy window. Her gown is three sizes too big and falls off her shoulder as she situates herself in the window.
“I’ve never seen you before, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been here awhile. The facility has another wing for the really fucked up people. They’re sedated most of the time I hear, and we don’t see them,” she looks at me with sad eyes. “Did you come from there?”<
br />
Sitting up, I sigh. “I don’t know, maybe.” I look to my hospital gown. If I was sedated the whole time I was over there, how would I know?
“So it is true. You’re the Forgotten Girl?” her statement more of a question.
“Forgotten Girl?”
“Yeah,” she holds her hand out with the cigarette, her brows furrowing in. “Like, you forget who you are, and where you’ve been.” She tilts her head to the side, placing the cigarette between her pink lips. “Or maybe someone forgot you?”
I tear my eyes from hers and look down at my feet, fighting off the feelings of emptiness and loneliness. Most likely from being the forgotten girl, everyone seems to know about except the girl herself. Me.
Hell, even I’ve forgotten myself. Who am I? Where did I come from? Is there anyone on the outside for me?
“I heard one of the nurses talking about you having a split personality or some shit.”
“I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but one thing is for sure… nobody is coming for me,” I whisper. I’m starting to think Benji isn’t real because the Benji I know… would be here by now.
“Well, Forgotten Girl. It’s movie night, get your ass up and let’s go see what they chose for us.”
“Movie night?”
“Yeah, once a week they put a shitty movie on in the caged TV. If King Kong gets lucky and Nurse Jackie lets him fuck her in the office, sometimes we can switch it to cable and watch The Kardashians.” She waggles her brows. “It’s the most excitement we get around here.”
“King Kong?” I don’t remember anyone working here by that name.
“Troll looking fucker?” She tilts her head to the side, repeating what I called the orderly when he was dragging me to my room.
“Oh,” I laugh.
Climbing out of the window, paint chips flicker to the ground around her bare feet.