Institutionalized

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I followed Scarlet down the hall, glad to get away from Lucius for a while. I knew I would be talking to Don soon and the thought wasn’t at all encouraging, but it gave me a temporary change of scenery.

As we passed through the ‘common room’ I spotted Mona Lisa on the far side of the room. Our eyes met briefly and she winked at me, although the expression on her face was nowhere near reassuring. She looked away as I was led to the hallway leading to the reception desk.

After Scarlet signed me out the other older nurse opened the door with a button and I followed Scarlet into the outer hallway and started following silently, walking several steps behind her and admiring the view.

“So, this must be very exciting for you,” she said suddenly.

“If by exciting you mean traumatizing, then yes,” I replied sarcastically.

“Geez, just trying to make small talk, you don’t have to be so sardonic,” she replied.

“Well, you don’t have to be so chatty.”

She gave a light laugh before replying, “Well aren’t you a breath of fresh air.”

“Is that so?” I asked, moving to walk beside her.

“For now, that is. I don’t think you’ll be the same after they put you on the meds,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I don’t think he’ll put me on anything,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh, what makes you so sure?”

“Because, I’m not ‘mentally ill’,” I said as if it were obvious.

“Right.”

“So what are you doing in this shit-hole?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I’m a college student, actually. I’m doing my co-op here, but I don’t think I’d ever want to work her permanently.”

“Why, is it because of malpractice?” I piped up immediately.

“I really can’t say, although you are more perceptive than most,” she replied. I stayed quiet, feeling no need to press her for more answers.

I looked around at where we were. It was a small corridor, older looking than the one leading to M9. Everything looked so different in the daylight, so I couldn’t even be sure if this was the same hallway I had walked down with Don a few days ago. I realized that the building was purposely designed to be as confusing as possible.

“They will give you meds. If you refuse to take it, they’ll put it in your food. Medicating the patients seems to be what this place is all about,” Scarlet spoke up suddenly, surprising me. I didn’t really know what to say. She was giving me information that for sure, I wasn’t supposed to know.

“So what do you know about my roommate?” I asked, figuring now was the only time that I could.

“Lucius?” I nodded. “Well, it depends. He’s a nice enough boy but…well you see, he’s on combination medication, so it depends on the day and on what they’ve given him. He’s most approachable in the mornings, before they’ve handed out the meds,” she answered quietly, she was looking around, paranoid.

“So they give him different medications every day?”

“Basically, yes,” she says.

“That’s fucked up,” I replied. “Why is he here anyways?”

“This is disclosed info, I’m not even supposed to know,” she said, giving me a look before continuing, “he was involved in a fire when he was younger, I don’t know how old.”

“A fire, that’s all?”

“Well, no...” she hesitated.

“Then tell me. What the fuck?”

“Okay, okay,” she said before stopping. I stood across from her in the deserted hallway. “He was abused by his step-father and I guess one day he just snapped and set fire to their home. His mother and her husband, along with Lucius’ younger brother were all killed,” she informed me hurriedly in a hushed voice. She looked around nervously. “I think he has a sister who survived, and his real father died years ago.”

“That’s awful,” I said, genuinely. I contemplated what she had just said while we continued walking. I really didn’t know Lucius so the information wasn’t that useful to me. “I uh, I don’t think he has split personalities, or whatever they call it,” I added as an afterthought.

“Disassociate Iden...”

“I said ‘or whatever’,” I interrupted her.

“Oh, all right,” she said, sounding exasperated. “No, I don’t think so either,” she replied vaguely, but I knew what she meant.

“So then what?” I asked, as we started walking again.

“Post traumatic stress maybe?” she said, “I don’t know I’m not a professional.”

“That’s what I thought too,” I replied thoughtfully.

“And you’re an expert?” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“No, but I’ve been diagnosed with it. I’ve done some reading.”

“I thought you said you weren’t mentally ill?” she asked, mockingly.

“Look, I’ve been diagnosed with a lot of things and none of it means anything. If you ever get a hold of my file, you’ll see what I mean,” I replied, thinking about all of the professional and technical errors throughout my medical file.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, stopping. “Don already knows a lot about you. Do you know that he hypnotized you?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t really believe...”

“He’s going to want to get right into all the topics that make you uncomfortable and make you talk about it. It’s usually like this, but the first time is the worst,” she stated, giving me an unreadable look as she glanced up the hallway.

“Great, I can’t wait,” I replied, my voice flat.

“I just thought I’d let you know, you can prepare yourself mentally.”

“Whatever.”

“You’re impossible,” she huffed.

“I know.”

I followed Scarlet down a small set of stairs and suddenly everything seemed familiar...well, mostly the smell. It was cold and damp and I knew Don’s office was down the second hallway on my left, first hall on the right on the left...or right hand side...I didn’t really know. I had a pretty lame sense of direction, which kind of fucks me over in case I ever tried to escape.

Absorbed in my own thoughts as I trailed after Scarlet again I forgot to pay attention and when we came upon Don’s office, I still didn’t know if we’d turned at the second hallway or not...

“Well, good luck Salem,” Scarlet smiled, turning to me. “I’ll be here later to escort you back.”

“Okay, sweet-cheeks,” I replied, before I unceremoniously grabbed the handle and yanked Don’s office door open. I heard Scarlet protest my actions behind me, but I quickly shut the door on her.

Don was seated in a big armchair with papers scattered about the table before him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but his expression quickly turned to controlled rage.

“That’s extremely rude Salem. If you’d be so kind, I would appreciate if you’d knock next time,” he said irritably while gathering up the papers strewn about. I took a seat on the couch opposite him.

“Maybe. Lets do this, shall we?” I said, feeling suddenly impatient.

“You want to jump right into this?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“I know you do,” I replied.

“Okay,” he started, hesitantly, “Is there anything you would like to talk about?”

“Actually, there is. I want to talk about my medications,” I replied, looking around the office, trying to avoid Don.

“Well, I’ve hardly had enough time to decide what is necessary…”

“I don’t need that shit, Don,” I interrupted.

“I can see how you might feel that way, considering the medications you’ve been on before, but...”

“No ‘but’. I’m not taking your stupid pills, and you can’t force me,” I stated, glaring at Don. He was still rearranging his papers.

“We can’t force you to do anything, Salem, but if it is in your best interest we have to...”

“Well it isn’t in my best interest. I don’t want my head to be all clouded up all the time. I don’t believe in medicating patients, and I’m not going to be your fucking guinea pig.”

“Now, why would you say something like that? Everything we do here is so that you can get better,” Don replied, fidgeting slightly.

“But I don’t need to get better,” I whined, “There’s nothing wrong with me, except for my parents, they can rot in hell for bringing me here.”

“Your parents are obviously concerned about you.”

“No, my parents just don’t want me to make them look bad in front of their rich friends,” I stated. “I came home drunk once and my dad made me sleep in the garage because they were ‘entertaining’. It was the middle of the fucking winter!” I exclaimed.

“That does sound terrible, and maybe you don’t have the most compassionate parents in the world, but you do have a problem, and I want to help you fix it,” Don replied.

I stayed silent, not wanting to talk anymore. This bastard was on their side, after all.

“When did you start cutting yourself, Salem? You don’t have to answer,” Don asked, a few minutes later.

“Don’t you already know all that?”

“I do, but I want to see how comfortable you are talking about it,” he replied. I studied him for a moment...well, he seemed non-threatening.

“I was nine,” I replied shortly.

“And why did you start cutting?”

“I just wanted to have control of something.”

“What didn’t you have control of, Salem?” he asked.

“Well, my brother...” I stopped, realizing what I was going to say. “Look I don’t want to talk about this, you can’t fucking make me!” I said, suddenly.

Don looked taken aback by my outburst, but simply shook his head and said, “You already told me, you don’t have to be shy.”

“I’m not being shy; I just don’t want to talk about it. You already know, so what the fuck do you want from me?” I replied bitterly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me the details,” he said, trying to sound friendly.

“Because you already know the details, right?”

“Actually, no, even when I hypnotized you, you wouldn’t go into detail about your brother,” he replied.

“No shit?”

“I know that’s the real reason why you’re here though. You’re parents told us you were a sexual deviant, heroin addict and suicidal but they didn’t mention anything about your relationship with Kieran,” Don said in a casual way that made my eye twitch with anger.

“I am not a heroin addict! I’m not a deviant and I’m not suicidal! I only tried to kill myself once or twice and that was over 2 years ago,” I replied indignantly.

“I know that you aren’t a heroin addict, we did a toxicity screen on you. However we did find traces of MDMA, cocaine, THC and what we believe to be Vicodin in your blood in amounts that would suggest that you are abusing drugs. Also while you were being hypnotized you claimed that you ‘sleep around’ in order to try and forget the experiences you’ve had with Kieran,” Don replied conversationally.

“Look, I’m not a drug addict and you can’t just pretend to know everything about...”

“When did the abuse end?” Don asked suddenly cutting me off. I glared at him for using the word ‘abuse’ and for interrupting me. He ignored my death glare and looked at me patiently.

“I was fifteen,” I replied, looking at the wall just beyond Dons head.

“And what happened to end it?” he asked.

“A friend of mine...” I stopped, gathering my thoughts. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about any of this, especially not to this stranger, but maybe all this talking will get me out earlier. “My friend stopped him one time...and he never did it again,” I lied.
“It was that simple?” he asked.

“Nothing about the situation was simple,” I replied hatefully. I failed to mention the fact that my brother didn’t really ‘abuse me’, because for the most part I didn’t resist what we did together.

“Of course, I’m sorry. Was this friend of yours named Damien?” he asked.

“Yes, did you pick that from my brain too?”

“No, you got a letter from him,” he stated.

“What! Let me see it! Where is it?” I asked, getting excited.

“Jackie has it; you’ll get it when you go back to your ward. Actually, the nurse should be waiting for you, our half hour is up,” he replied. I stood up immediately and unconsciously held my hand out to Don; he gave me a strange look before shaking my hand.

“Bye,” I said, shortly.

“Bye Salem, I’m glad we could talk today. I’ll see you on Thursday,” he replied.

I let myself out of the room, baffled by the thirty minute session I’d just had with Don. Scarlet was waiting in the hall for me like Don said. I immediately grabbed her arm and started dragging her down the hall.

“Hey! What are you doing?” she protested.

“There’s a letter for me! Jackie has it,” I said, excitedly.

“Well, you’re going the wrong way,” she laughed.

I stopped, letting go of her arm. I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted as best I could. Looking innocent - not always easy for me.

“Oh, well come on since you’re in such a hurry,” she said, already turning back down the hallway. I quickly followed behind her, and walked to her left as we went up the small flight of stairs in silence.

“So how did it go?” she asked once we were up the stairs and halfway down this particular hallway.

“Okay, I suppose. No medications.”

“Did he say that, or are you just assuming it?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I bit back angrily.

“I was just curious, you don’t have to throw a hissy fit on me,” Scarlet replied defensively, while eyeing me warily.

“Uh, yeah...sorry, whatever,” I mumbled, feeling uncomfortable apologizing to her.

“That was real heartfelt, I can feel the love,” she drawled sarcastically. I scowled at her before stopping in the middle of the hallway, hands on my hips. She stopped and turned to me looking impatient. She stepped closer to me when I still wouldn’t move.

“What’s your problem now?” she asked.

I took a quick look around before grabbing Scarlet by the wrist and jerking her towards me. She let out a small pained sound and started struggling when I put my hand over her mouth. I maneuvered myself so I was leaning against a wall with her back to my chest. I had her arm twisted behind her back and my hand was still covering her mouth; she struggled less and she calmed down, breathing heavily from her nose.

I didn’t really know what I was doing or what to do next, so I figured I could at least get some answers from her.

“Why did you tell me all that shit on the way here? About Lucius and the medications and about Don and all that?” I demanded, taking my hand from her mouth.

“I-I don’t know. You seemed normal enough; I just thought we could talk. I thought you’d want to know, and that you’ll keep quiet. Everyone else is t-to crazy to talk to, I guess it’s lonely...I...you are crazy, Salem,” she replied breathlessly, sounding mildly frightened. I twisted her arm painfully when she called me crazy and she gave a little yelp.

“I’m not fucking crazy. I’m just confused, I don’t know this place and I don’t trust anybody. I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Let go of me, I-I could h-help you, I...”

“Forget it, I don’t trust you.”

“Then could you let me go a-already?” she demanded angrily although her voice shook and I could tell I was making her nervous.

“Look, I’m not going to do anything to you. You’re so uptight,” I said into her ear before letting go of her. She quickly stepped away from me and started walking again.

“Asshole,” she shot over her shoulder. I just shrugged. I followed behind her silently until we got back to the ward. As soon as the doors opened I pushed passed Scarlet and practically ran down the hall to the common room, then I started dodging patients and chairs and tables and all kinds of shit before finally reaching Jackie’s office door. I knocked repeatedly until my knuckles hurt, not stopping until the door was yanked away.

“What?” Jackie exclaimed, looking me over.

“Jacqueline...my letter please,” I asked, leaning against the doorframe and fidgeting impatiently.

She reached behind her and grabbed a letter off her desk. I was impressed how easily she had found it amidst the mess of papers. She handed it to me, still looking annoyed and shut the door in my face without another word.

I turned and sat at the nearest table, oblivious that all the other residents were watching me curiously as I tore open the envelope. I unfolded the letter and was immediately disappointed by how short it was. Never the less, it was Damien’s handwriting so I began to read:

Salem,

I know how difficult everything must seem for you right now, and I’m sure you’re having a hard time trying to adjust. I was surprised when Kieran told me that you’d been sent away to...well there. I think I’m still in shock. Sabrina isn’t taking it very well, while I’m just trying to keep the rumors at bay. Kieran isn’t really talking to us, but he isn’t talking to anyone else either, so I guess that’s good. Maybe going away for a bit will be good for you, get you away from your parents for awhile. Anyways, I don’t know what to say, except that I hope you get well so you can come home. I miss you.

D.

I stared at the letter in shock. It didn’t even seem like Damien had written it. Does he really think that I need to ‘get well’? He’d never said anything like that before, besides he never liked all the doctors my parents took me to or the medications I was on. Maybe he just never said anything, because he knew how I’d react. It would make sense but I didn’t want to believe that.

I brought up my knee and abruptly kicked over the table in front of me. It flipped over and landed with a bang, making one girl scream. I stood and grabbed my chair before launching it at the wall. The wooded seat and back splintered into a million pieces flying everywhere and the metal frame clanged noisily to the ground.

I quickly strode towards the hallway leading to my room. Everyone around me stared with shock as I heard Jackie coming from her office and talking rapidly. I’d just started going down the hall when I felt a hand grab my upper arm. I turned and saw that it was Austin, the security guard, and without hesitation I punched him in the jaw. He stumbled backwards with a shocked expression on his face which I didn’t see; I was too busy rushing down the hallway.

Once inside the room I slammed the door and swept my arm across Lucius’ dresser knocking all his things on the floor. Lucius tried to protest but stayed quiet; I didn’t even notice he was there. I dragged the heavy dresser by myself to block the door, just as someone was trying to open it. The door hit the dresser a few times but not very forcefully and I ignored it.

“What are you doing?” asked Lucius looking around wide-eyed. He was mostly looking at his books and things strewn across the floor.

“I made a scene. I didn’t mean to make a mess of your stuff, I just don’t want to, you know, get sedated,” I replied anxiously, glancing at the door as the banging grew louder and the dresser started to move slightly.

“I understand. The bathroom door locks,” Lucius informed me. I gave him a grateful look before slipping into the bathroom and finding the lock. I hadn’t noticed it before; I guess I assumed there wouldn’t be one for obvious reasons. I locked it and stood with my back to the door looking at my reflection in the mirror. I looked sickeningly pale and my black hair was matted and tangled falling into my eyes and standing up in odd places. My eyes didn’t even look green anymore, more like a pale grey, hopeless.

I glanced around before plucking the razor I’d seen before from the basket. I could hear the dresser being moved and Lucius’ voice and other muffled sounds. I ignored it as best I could as I began taking apart the razor. I realized I still had Damien’s letter clenched in my fist and quickly threw it to the floor, glaring at the piece of paper as I broke the plastic razor and retrieved the small blades.

I sank to the floor and remembered familiar patterns and words, number that were significant to me, pictures and began etching the images onto one already grossly scarred arm as I watched my blood swell from the shallow cuts, and bleed away my misery.

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