Even now, after succumbing to insanity, Alicen wanted to save face in front of the one woman who had judged her more than the rest of the world combined. She wasn’t ready to let that go.
Alicen sniffed, ran her fingers across her nose, wiped her tears, and unfolded her legs. They ached as she stretched her feet toward the floor, another reminder that her youth was behind her. Betty shifted as well, Alicen having caused a disturbance in their connected flow.
Alicen.
The sound caused Alicen to twitch slightly, its sudden intrusion unexpected. The timing of her mental delusions was almost comical.
Alicen, can you hear us? Do you see us?
She closed her eyes and ran her tongue along the back side of her clenched teeth.
“Alicen?” Betty asked, concern registering in her tone.
“Sorry,” Alicen said, pushing away the voices and turning back to her mother.
Betty’s face exposed her worry as she studied Alicen’s for a long moment and then reached into the pocket of her cardigan. She pulled out an orange pill bottle, one Alicen recognized, and held it in her lap.
Betty glanced down at the item and swallowed. “I found these in your bathroom earlier while you were resting. I know you haven’t been taking them, because the bottle’s full. I counted.”
“Of course you did,” Alicen said without thinking. Her natural defensive stance against her mother was always her first reaction and took no effort. It was the letting her guard down that took real work.
Alicen. Do you hear us?
Do you see us?
Alicen bit the inside of her cheek and ignored the temptation to scream out at the voices only she could hear.
“I only just picked them up,” Alicen said. “I hate the way they’ll make me feel; I . . .” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She had thought she didn’t actually need them, hadn’t she? She had thought she could handle this on her own.
Betty held the bottle out toward Alicen. “I think maybe you should reconsider after . . .” She trailed off.
After Alicen had tried to steal a child from a public place? She didn’t blame her mother for not being able to vocalize it. It still seemed like something that had happened to someone else. It still felt like a nightmare.
Alicen reached for the orange tube and took it from Betty’s hand. The long, off-white pills rattled inside as Alicen’s hand moved.
“You need help,” Betty said, placing her hand on Alicen’s arm. Alicen didn’t glance up; she didn’t want to see the expression on her mother’s face.
“Don’t, Alicen,” a small voice echoed. This caught Alicen’s full attention, and she looked up to see Evie standing across the room, next to the plush chair in the corner.
Alicen’s breath caught in her throat.
Evie spoke, looking and sounding as real as any human Alicen had ever encountered. “They’ll cloud your body and fill it with shadows,” Evie said. “Shadows make it hard to see.” There was a startling clarity bleeding through the girl’s eyes. There wasn’t a hint of fear, only certainty.
“Alicen, honey, do you understand what I’m saying here?” Betty asked.
“We have so much more to show you,” Evie said.
The two voices raked at the inside of Alicen’s brain. Each sounding as legitimate as the other. Each pulling her in opposite directions. It disturbed her that Evie, the little girl who had been haunting her for weeks, could feel as real as the mother she’d known her entire life. Another wave of sorrow washed over her, rattling the ends of her already-fraying resolve, and she couldn’t hold back the tears threatening to bring her to her knees.
“Alicen, baby, please. I really think this is the best thing for you,” Betty said.
“She doesn’t believe; she doesn’t know,” Evie countered. “But you know. You have always known.”
The air in the room felt too thick for Alicen to breathe, and panic started to work its way through her veins. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and stood.
“Alicen, please hear reason,” Betty pleaded.
“Don’t you want to see clearly?” Evie asked.
“Stop,” Alicen whispered, straining to take a deep breath.
“Honey?” Betty said somewhere in the chaos taking over Alicen’s mind.
“You know the truth; you’ve touched it before. Don’t you want to remember?” Evie asked.
“I said stop,” Alicen said, stronger, her eyes still closed. She stepped back and forth, pacing, pressing against the side of her skull as if she could push the crazy out. The air felt hot and humid even though in reality it was thin and chilled.
“The rest is just shadows,” Evie said.
“Enough!” Alicen screamed. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough, enough, enough! Get out of my head!”
“Alicen,” Betty said, stepping up from where she was sitting and grabbing her daughter’s shoulder.
Alicen yanked away from Betty’s touch and opened her eyes to see the spot that had hosted Evie’s tiny body was now empty. The air had started to thin, and the heat began to drain. She glanced at her mother, who looked terrified, her face white as a sheet, her eyes glistening with fearful tears.
Again Alicen looked to where Evie had been standing and was relieved to see she was still gone. The door to her bedroom cracked open, and Louise poked her head inside. Another set of worried eyes to stare at the deranged Alicen.
“Everything okay?” Louise asked.
Betty didn’t respond. Neither did Alicen. What could either of them say? No, everything was not okay. Things hadn’t been okay for a while. Alicen felt something shift in her palm and looked down to see she was still holding the orange pill bottle filled with her prescribed antipsychotic. There was no more getting past the inevitable.
Alicen didn’t glance back up at the two women who anxiously waited to see what she would do next. She took the five long steps to the small bathroom connected to her room, moved inside, flipped the faucet on without turning on the light, opened the bottle, dropped two pills into her hand, popped them into her mouth, and took a deep swig of water flowing from the head. They struggled to slide down her throat, as if even her body was in rebellion against her, but she firmly forced them down.
Alicen looked at herself in the mirror. She searched for something in her face that would remind her of reality. She searched for something that would look familiar, that would look sane, but all she saw was a hollowed-out reflection of a woman she might have known once. Cruel tragedy had taken what she loved most, and then her own mind had stolen everything else that remained.
What was familiar was the numbing depression that was spreading up her legs, into her waist, and through her gut. It would erase the pain, it would encase her with a sense of nothingness, and it would drag her into a dark hole where she could suffer alone. She just wanted to be alone, without her fearful mother, without her concerned friend, without her rambling delusions, without her logic. Completely alone to drown in the undeniable truth that she was more than broken. More than lost. She was totally ruined.
She caught sight of the sleeping pills, nestled in their case, sitting in the corner of the counter, and grabbed them.
“Alicen?” Louise said, opening the bathroom door wider and stepping inside.
“I’m fine,” Alicen replied. An automatic response that tumbled out with ease. She popped open the second bottle and used her fingers to dig for two pills.
“Okay,” Louise said. “Betty and I thought some hot tea might be nice. You want to come join us?”
“No, thank you,” Alicen said and placed the two sleeping aids on her tongue. She swallowed them easily and replaced the bottle’s lid. “I’m just tired, so I think I’ll rest.”
“Okay; if you need anything, you let us know,” Louise said.
Alicen nodded, still looking in the mirror as she listened to Louise leave, Betty in tow. The door to her bedroom clicked closed.
With a final glance at herself, Alicen left the attac
hed bathroom and walked out into her room. She yanked the curtains closed. The sleeping aid was already beginning to work its magic, or maybe that was the fogginess that came from the antipsychotic swimming in her bloodstream; she wasn’t sure. Either way, it pulled her to the mattress, tugged her under the comforter, and blocked out all thoughts. The only things that lay down with her were the feeling of loss, the sorrow it created, and the tears it conjured. All else was lost.
15
Alicen sat in Dr. Wells’s office, alone. A nurse had shown her in, asking her to have a seat and wait. She wasn’t sure where Dr. Wells was but found herself hardly caring. Not because she didn’t want to care or because caring would be out of character for her, but because she couldn’t seem to. She was sure her antipsychotics could be blamed for that.
So she’d sat as asked and found herself staring at nothing. Even that felt exhausting. She wanted to drop her head into her hands, wanted to cross the room and curl up on the couch under the window, wanted to go home. The drugs she’d been taking constantly the last several days had found a comfy home within her system and had taken over. Her brain felt mushy, and her will to struggle against anything was gone. Her medications had driven her to a nearly frozen state. Like she’d been mummified, or zombified, or something-fied. Like she was living inside her body but not really in complete control. She hated it, but she hadn’t had a delusion since starting the pills, and seeing ghostly children was worse than feeling like a vegetable. Right?
The door to the office suddenly came to life, and she watched as Dr. Wells walked in, followed closely by his superior, Victoria. The sight of the administrator jarred Alicen’s senses, and even in her fogged state, a nervous tension tightened her chest. Since having control of her body was a thing of the past, Alicen felt her eyes latch themselves to the tall woman’s face and follow her as she crossed into the space and sat on the couch under the window.
“Good afternoon, Alicen,” Dr. Wells said.
Her response time was slowed, but she finally yanked her eyes from Victoria and turned to see Dr. Wells had taken his usual place across from her. His smile was comforting, his eyes warm.
She swallowed and tried to smile in return. She couldn’t see her face, but it felt more like a grimace across her lips than a smile.
“You remember Victoria,” he said, motioning to the place where she sat. “I thought it might be a good idea for her to be a part of our session today.”
“You did?” Alicen said, finding her words.
“Actually, to be candid, I asked to join,” Victoria said, her voice drawing Alicen’s attention back toward her. Her tone was clear and bold but intentionally soft. Or at least that’s how it felt. Maybe it was just the numbed sensation it had to push through to get to Alicen’s brain that made it feel that way.
“Oh,” Alicen said. Again she would rather have kept her eyes downward, but her body wasn’t her own.
Victoria didn’t shy away from Alicen’s stare. “Is that all right with you?” she asked.
Alicen nodded, unsure what other option there was.
Victoria smiled and relaxed against the couch’s back. Alicen felt a sudden cold chill, and she dropped her eyes from the stark woman. Victoria had asked to join? Of course she asked to join, her mind rambled. You tried to steal a child, honey. They think you’re insane.
I’m not insane, Alicen mentally countered.
But aren’t you?
Reality sank farther into her weary brain. Yes, she conceded, yes, I am. An inappropriate sputter of laughter rippled off her tongue, and she bit down on it to conceal the insanity that was threatening to pour out.
“What’s going through your mind right now?” Dr. Wells asked.
Alicen looked up at him. “I was just thinking about how crazy I actually am. Crazy enough to need two psychiatrists because one probably isn’t enough at this point.”
“We prefer not to use the word crazy around here,” Victoria said.
Alicen let out another soft chuckle. “I thought another child was my dead daughter; what would you call that?” Alicen could feel anger surfacing even through her drugged state. It was warm inside her belly, like a simmering firework waiting to explode.
Victoria held Alicen’s stare without any hesitation.
“Broken, maybe?” Alicen continued, the heat rising. “Fractured? Unsettled? Incapable of emotional control or mental clarity!” Her words were sharper than they needed to be. Pushing past the numb sensation seemed to heighten her emotions. As if she were overcompensating for her own lack.
A moment of silence hung around them before Victoria calmly turned to Dr. Wells and spoke. “Can you give us a moment alone?” It was a question phrased like a command, and the doctor gave Victoria a hesitant glance. It seemed as though he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Dr. Wells,” Victoria said. It was pretty clear she wasn’t going to be happy if she had to ask again.
He gave a swift clearing of his throat, turned to Alicen, and spoke as he stood. “I’ll be right outside.” A couple seconds later he was gone.
Another moment of silence filled the space as Victoria moved her gaze back to Alicen. Her expression remained steadfast and impassive. There was no telling what the woman was thinking behind her eyes, and it made Alicen unsettled. Dr. Wells had only been gone a moment, and already Alicen wished he’d return.
“Dr. Wells is an excellent addition to our facility here, but he is different from us, from you and me,” Victoria said. “He comes from a different background. He can’t quite understand that part of you.” Victoria held Alicen’s gaze. “His demons are different.”
“Demons?”
Victoria nodded. “We all have them. Everyone is troubled. Some more than others, though. You, for example. You let your daughter drown.”
She didn’t even hesitate as she said it, and Alicen felt the room press down upon her.
Victoria continued. “The guilt of it now follows you around in the form of children. Little walking demons. Reminding you of what you did and who you are. Correct?”
Alicen couldn’t reply. She wanted to be furious. Offended. But she couldn’t be either, because Victoria was right.
Victoria nodded. “Or at least that is what you believe. I know because I have similar demons. You and I are the same, Alicen. I see myself in you. I know your trouble. I know it because it is my trouble.”
Alicen remained silent. What could she say?
“It’s simple really,” Victoria said. “We were both born into hereditary evil, both suffered tragic loss, both paid for the sins of our parents. Perhaps unfair are the cards we’ve been dealt, but they are, nonetheless, ours.”
Victoria leaned forward from the couch and placed her elbows on her knees. A bell echoed somewhere deep inside Alicen’s psyche, warning her to retreat, but instead she felt herself drawn deeper into Victoria’s gaze.
“There is only one path from here,” Victoria said. “People like to believe there are many options, but there is only one. Acceptance.”
She paused, letting her words worm their way deep into Alicen’s chest. The air was stuffy, and still a shiver presented itself under Alicen’s flesh. Her heart raced, even as the world seemed to have stilled. She could feel the bitter tears collecting in her eyes but also the groggy numb of drugs running through her bloodstream.
“Alicen,” Victoria said, dropping her tone low, “you have to accept who you are and where you come from. Then we may have a chance to help you atone for your mistakes. Pay what you owe, so you can be free of your debt. Wouldn’t you like to be free?”
Warm tears traced Alicen’s cheeks. “How could I possibly pay for what I’ve done?”
“I will help you,” Victoria said, “as someone helped me.”
“What if I can’t be helped?” Alicen’s voice was barely a whisper.
“The reasons you are here can be terrifying to come to terms with,” Victoria said. “No one understands that better than I do. But it can be done.�
� Victoria reached out and placed her hand on top of Alicen’s knee. “Even for you.”
Fresh tears spilled from Alicen’s eyes as her gaze continued to intertwine with Victoria’s. Even for you echoed through her brain. Even for a mother who let her daughter die—that’s what she meant. Even for a person who failed at the only thing worth living for. Even for you, Alicen. Time to pay for your mistakes.
“The choice is yours,” Victoria said, releasing Alicen from her touch and sitting back against the couch. “I’m offering you freedom from your mind, but we won’t force you into recovery. You have to want it, because it doesn’t come without a cost.”
Alicen took a shaky breath and finally dropped her eyes from Victoria’s magnetic hold. Could what Victoria was suggesting actually be obtainable? Could Alicen pay enough to be free?
“Let me help you, Alicen,” Victoria said.
Tearstained, Alicen glanced up at Victoria and nodded.
A spark flashed across Victoria’s gaze as a half smile pulled up the corner of her mouth. “I knew you were going to be special,” she said. “As I help you, it’s almost like I’ll be helping myself.”
She gave a soft pop of laughter, and all the tiny hairs on the back of Alicen’s neck stood.
“I’ll be heading up your treatment from here on out,” Victoria said. “I take on very few cases personally, but I’d like to keep my eye on you. For starters, we’ll change up your medication, give you something with a little bit more strength. Ease the fracturing in your psyche.”
“I’m already—” Alicen started.
“I know,” Victoria said. Her words had a sharp edge. “Something stronger will be better. We need to control your mind, Alicen. Remove the strong will that is fighting the reality of where you are. Trust me.”
Yes, Alicen. She’s going to help you obtain freedom. Maybe make you worth it. Act like an adult, Alicen.
When Through Deep Waters Page 15