by Lily White
“You asked me if I was hurt. In the rec room, you asked me that and I woke up here.”
The excitement I’d seen in his eyes faded, replaced once again with a distant worry. “No, Ms. Sutton. I never asked you that question. Not until just now.”
“You did!” I screamed again, but flinched when he reached inside his jacket pocket. Assuming he would pull a needle out to sedate me, I attempted to move away, but my body felt sluggish and disoriented.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I couldn’t help my tears, couldn’t help the fear and distress that were my constant companions in this place. It was one nightmare after the next, one puzzle that would always be missing the piece that connected it all to a point where I could understand it.
“You’re still under the effects of the drug I gave you for the therapy. It will take another half hour at least for you to regain enough coordination and strength to walk out of this room. Until then…” Placing his arms around me, he lifted me back onto the bed and balanced me until I felt settled enough to balance myself on the edge. “…you’ll be staying here to talk to me about what you do and don’t remember.”
“How is any of this possible? How can I not remember something that was supposed to have happened, yet remember something that, according to you, never happened at all?”
He sat next to me and the earthy, masculine scent of his cologne washed across me. Without even thinking, I leaned into him, allowing his body to support my weight. Heat radiated between our bodies and an electric thrum pulsed along my skin. I expected him to move when I touched him. Instead, he put his arm around me, steadying me and holding me tight against his side.
Silence passed between us before he dared breach that comforting blanket with his thoughts.
“The mind is a machine, Alex. Its complexities equal its simplicities. Damage one area and you could take away a person’s ability to walk or talk. Damage another and you take away their ability to think or feel. One small injury in one area can cause immeasurable complications, whereas massive damage in another can result in minor changes. There have been cases where a person’s frontal lobe was pierced with a railway spike and although there were initial changes in his personality following the accident, time passed and he regained everything that he lost. There have been cases where half of a person’s brain was removed and the other half relearned and made up for the loss. And yet, there are other cases where only a minor chemical change or small amount of damage has crippled people to a point where they didn’t know their own name or where they were. Unlike machines, which can be calibrated and studied, built and taken apart, machines that are similar in function and design to a point of duplication, the human brain is individual to the person. We’ve come to a point where we can understand the components, where we can treat certain dysfunctions with common and expected results, but we have not yet come so far that we can name or identify what each part does and how it does it.”
“So, I’m screwed?”
He laughed and the sound was like a soothing balm to my anger. His arm tightened around me and I sighed, relieved to give him not only the weight of my body, but the weight of my thoughts and emotions as well.
“When I was interning at another institution, I treated a lady much like you. She had anterograde amnesia so severe that she couldn’t retain information from one day to the next. She was in the institution for several years before I interned and the main psychiatrist informed me that, although she couldn’t remember names or faces of the staff or other patients, she could remember routine. She woke up every morning and knew to wait by the door for a nurse to escort her to breakfast. She knew that after eating she would go to the medication window and then to the main gathering room. She was able to differentiate days enough that she knew when to go to group therapy and when to go to physical therapy. But if you asked her to identify anything that didn’t have to do with the routine – if you asked her the specifics of who and what she dealt with from day to day – she couldn’t answer.”
“How is that even possible?”
He turned to me in the same moment that I turned to him. Our faces were so close I could feel his breath with each word he spoke. Perhaps it was how near we were to each other, or perhaps he felt the same electric hum that I was feeling, but he lowered his voice, speaking in an intimate whisper when he explained, “That’s what I hope to find out.”
My eyes traced the lines of his lips as he spoke and for the first time I noticed the shadow of stubble that dusted his cheeks. Reaching up, I brushed my fingers across that stubble and pulled back when the contact alone was enough to force a rush of desperate heat through my body.
He studied me, but didn’t make an effort to move away. His eyes stared too intently. I couldn’t hold his gaze. Looking away, I could feel a warm blush creep over my cheeks, I could feel something else inside me stirring – a mixture of desire and fear.
“I’m not afraid of you, Alex. Even considering what you’ve been accused of, I don’t fear you.”
It was a whispered confession, words strung together to express a thought, an emotion. Even though they made sense in the order in which they’d been arranged, the emotion they conveyed and the thought they’d revealed was lost to me.
“Why would you be afraid?”
He shook himself back to reality as soon as I’d spoken, releasing his hold around my body and moving away from me entirely. By the time I realized my mistake for having said a word, he was distant once again. He’d returned to the objective psychiatrist who was studying his subject.
I sat motionless and tried to make sense of what I was feeling, of what I should be feeling, but mostly of what he was feeling as he stared at me from behind his wire-framed glasses.
“I want to discuss today’s session with you when the drugs have worn off.” There was a rough edge to his voice, sullen and bitter, but also carrying an edge of something sexual. The tension was so thick between us, I could cut it with a knife.
Standing up, he said, “I’m going to have Terrie take you back to your room to sleep. After that, you’ll be going to group with Dr. Ali and then most likely to the rec room for the rest of the evening.
He crossed the space and pressed a button in the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. Static sounded and Terrie’s voice could be heard throughout the room.
“Dr. Hutchins. How may I be of assistance?”
“Therapy with Ms. Sutton is complete for today. I would appreciate it if you could escort her through the rest of the day’s activities.”
“Yes sir. I’ll be there shortly.”
He didn’t turn back to me immediately, choosing instead to rest his forehead against the wall, still clutching his ever-faithful pen and notebook in his hands. When he finally did turn to face me again, his expression was a mask that wouldn’t betray whatever emotion it was that he was feeling.
Before Terrie could enter the room, I spoke the only plea I could think of before being returned to the general populace of the asylum:
“Hey Doc? By any chance, can you arrange for me not to be sleeping alone tonight?”
Chapter Fifteen
All things truly wicked start from innocence.
- Ernest Hemingway
“Let’s go, Alex. You’re already late for group. Dr. Ali hates it when people come in late.” Nurse Lisa stood at the door to my room, checking something off on her clipboard and not bothering to look at me as she spoke.
She was a pretty woman with long brown hair that she kept clipped into a low bun at the base of her head. She wore makeup, but not enough for it to look like she wore any at all. An odd pang of jealousy crept through me when I wondered whom it was that she was hoping to impress.
Pushing up from the mattress, I noticed that I wasn’t completely steady on my feet. Cautiously, I braced my hand on a wall and lifted a foot to slip on one of the slippers they provided for the patients in the ward. Once I’d balanced enough to have both slippers on my feet, I shuffled over to
where Lisa was waiting.
Stepping into the hall, she held the door open long enough for me to take my place beside her and let it slam behind us while escorting me to group.
The tense silence was stifling, so I made random conversation just to hear something other than the sound of our footsteps in the hall.
“Bit late for group, isn’t it?”
She glared at me out of the corner of her eye. “This is a twenty-four hour facility, Alex. We have to do something to keep you ladies occupied.”
When I didn’t respond, she laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Hmm?” She looked over feigning innocence. “Just thought you asked an interesting question.”
The lights above our head buzzed and flickered. I’d become accustomed to the constant flashing illumination in these halls.
I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention to the halls ahead of us. “I was just making conversation.”
“Sure you were.” Her voice was bitter. “Ali told me you have a thing for the male staff in this place. Were you hoping to see Dr. Hutchins again?”
“What?” I glanced in her direction. “No. I had therapy twice today already. Why would I be seeing him again? I’m sure he’s busy with other patients.”
She made a dismissive noise. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
The volatile tone in her voice set my nerves on edge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing really. It’s just that he spends an awful lot of time with you and has refused treating other patients. He deferred them to a secondary psychiatrist in the ward. He claims it’s to give the other doctor some experience, but I’m starting to wonder if his interest isn’t more than just….clinical.”
Anger flashed through me, teasing my spine into painful steel. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
She grinned, the expression barely visible due to her refusal to look in my direction. “I wouldn’t get snippy with me, Alex. I have no qualms dosing you up and strapping you down to a gurney.” She barked out a malevolent laugh. “I’ll even leave you in the hall for all the other patients to see.”
“Bitch.” It wasn’t my best retort, but considering her threat, I couldn’t exactly say much else. This place had a way of reminding a person that they were at the bottom of the psychotic food chain.
She laughed again, obviously not affected by my scathing retort. “Hate me all you want, Alex. It won’t change the fact that you’re a slut…and a murderer.” Her last words were spoken with a razor edge. They cut deep, but not because I believed they were true.
Without offering her a reply, I slowed down to walk a few steps behind her and wished that Jeremy had told me what he learned in that last session. Even in my dreams, I couldn’t see what supposedly happened in that house. There were no memories of Bobby, nothing that would enlighten me as to the true facts of what had occurred. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was the hooded man.
Who was he? Why was he the only person I could remember? I didn’t know. Even the explanation Jeremy had given me regarding the complexities of the brain and the memories it held were not enough to comfort me in a moment where I could remember nothing but a shadowed figure without a name or a face.
“We’re here.” She placed her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t push it open. Turning to look at me, something cruel sparked in her eye. “So I hear you’ll be sleeping in the normal ward tonight. I’ll be on duty and at the sound of the first scream, I’ll be transferring your ass back to the solitary rooms. I’m not putting up with your issues. I like my ward to remain quiet.”
“What’s your point, Lisa?”
“My point is, one little peep out of that mouth of yours and I’ll have Joe personally escort you to the private rooms.” She smirked and my stomach sank into my knees. Raising an eyebrow, she added, “Awe, what’s wrong, Alex? I thought you liked him. At least that’s what Ali told me.”
Another quick smile and she pushed the door open and shoved me inside the room.
“She was talking about me! I know she was! I’m the character in her book and she wrote it WRONG! I was just telling her where she screwed up. Any author would want to know what their character would actually say or do in the situations they write about! That’s all I was doing and now look at me! I’m stuck in this place with you!”
Elaine howled from her seat, pleading with a desperate voice for Dr. Ali to believe her delusions. Surrounding her in the white plastic seats were Lesley and Michelle, Sally, Dawn and Julianne, each of them chuckling quietly as Elaine swore that her favorite author’s book had been written about her.
“I know her, I do. I swear it. What happened between us was just a misunderstanding. She wouldn’t listen to me in public, so I had to take her to a place where she would listen…”
“And you had to break her arms for what purpose, exactly?” Dr. Ali asked the question with no emotion in her voice as she examined her fingernails. The lack of concern on her face conveyed without doubt the fact that she could care less about Elaine’s explanation.
In a sheepish voice, Elaine answered, “That was an accident.”
Standing quietly by the door, I didn’t want to move and draw attention to myself, but as soon as Lisa allowed the heavy partition to slam shut, all eyes were on me.
“Alex. How wonderful for you to join us. Session started five minutes ago.” She made no effort to contain the contempt that was evident in her voice.
Running my hand through my tangled hair, I forced out my pathetic excuse. “I was sleeping…”
“With whom this time?” She grinned.
My body went rigid and I forced myself to keep from marching across the room to slap the stupid sneer off her face. “By myself,” I grumbled.
“I’m so sure. Take a seat before you get the other lunatics in this room hopping around thinking nobody has to follow the rules.”
All of the women looked at her, each person’s hand curling up into an angry fist. It would be so simple to hurt her. We’d have just enough time to do damage before the call would go out to the staff to flood the room with sedatives and restraints. But each of us knew that our punishment would be far worse than whatever injury we could inflict on the crass bitch that sat in the front of the room.
Planting my weight in a chair next to Julianne, I scrunched my face when she reached over to offer me one of her grapes. She simply shrugged and wordlessly shoved it in her mouth, allowing the juice to burst out and dribble down her chin when she bit down.
“Alright ladies, I believe we’re all tired of hearing about Elaine’s author. Why don’t we start with somebody else?” Her eyes met mine. “Alex. You’re up. Tell us about your problems.”
My skin crawled at the sound of her voice. “I have nothing to talk about.”
She cocked her head to the side and over exaggerated the pouty-lipped expression on her face. “No? Nothing? I know. I want to hear about how you’re fucking every man in this building. Doctor, nurse…it doesn’t seem to matter with you, does it? I’m sure I could pull the janitor out of the men’s room covered in piss and shit and you’d gladly lick it off his clothes just for the chance of getting a little dick inside your body, wouldn’t you? Let’s talk about why you’re such a whore.”
Shrinking into myself, my face heated with embarrassed anger. I hadn’t slept with anybody in this place, but no matter how loud I screamed my innocence, she would never believe me. The other patients looked sympathetic to my plight, each once giving me a look of encouragement before turning their faces back to Dr. Ali.
“I like dick when it’s nailed to my wall. Does that count, Doctor?” Dawn spoke up, smiling innocently at Ali before turning to wink at me. She was doing what she could to help and I nodded my head in her direction to thank her for the interruption.
Ali cast me an angry glare. Taming her expression into one of boredom and turning her attention to Dawn, she said, “You’re a sick bitch. They should have executed your ass inste
ad of throwing you in here for me to deal with.”
Dawn smiled. “And I’ll be sure to pin your tits to the wall on the day I walk out of this place.”
Ali snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“Can I take out her eyes?” Julianne asked.
Lesley and Michelle snorted before scooting their chairs away from Julianne. Dawn laughed and answered, “Sure babe. I’ll even hold the bitch down for you.”
Ali’s face flared red with rage. Standing up from her chair, she crossed the room with a feline grace. Pressing a thin finger to the call button, she opened her full lips to say, “Joe. I have an out of control patient in my room. Could you please assist?”
All the patients fell silent.
Ali glanced in our direction before pressing the button again. “And bring Emerson with you. I think this particular patient needs a lesson in manners.”
I had to do something. Dawn had only spoken up because of me.
It didn’t take long for Joe and Emerson to come slithering through those doors and in a moment of true insanity, I threw myself out of my chair to stop them in their approach.
Emerson grabbed me first, pulling me close to his chest with his nauseating laughter ringing in my ear. “Oh, look. It’s the protected patient acting like a little fucking bitch. It’s too bad Dr. Hutchins isn’t here to decide what to do. I’ll defer to the doctor in charge.”
He looked across the room. “Dr. Ali. What should I do with Ms. Sutton?”
Glancing towards the other patients, I didn’t hold it against them for being frozen in fear. The only one to stand up from her chair was Dawn and I knew it was because she felt guilty for having contributed to this. Grabbing her plastic chair, she raised it above her head and screamed in such a feral manner that she looked like she was stepping into a war zone.
The chair wouldn’t do much but piss Joe off. Still, she swung it like a baseball bat, intent to do damage.
“Dawn! Stop!” I screamed before Emerson could put his filthy hand over my mouth to silence me.