Another Hospital Stay
Chapter 3
"I don't know if you remember any other thing from when you were younger. All those small trips we took to a huge building for small visits," she starts off.
I shake my head, trying so hard to remember.
"Well, that building, which is in Belleville, New Jersey, was in fact a hospital, one that specialized in mental disorders. We, as in, your grandfather and I, plus you and your mother, made frequent visits there," she says, pausing for a few minutes.
"And what does that have to do with my mother," I ask, clearly confused.
"When your father died, it devastated your mother. It was horrible, especially since she was still eight months pregnant with you. It tore her apart once Omar was gone. After you were born, she started seeing things, saying that her Omar was back, that he was always inside her room. Your grandfather and I became extremely worried about her. We would walk by her room and hear her talking to someone and when we opened the door to see whom it was, she was only talking to herself. After a couple of years of this going on, we finally persuaded her to let us take her to a hospital. There, they weren't able to tell us anything of value, but recommended another hospital. An institution. We took your mother and once there, we finally found out what was wrong with her. Your mother was suffering from mild schizophrenia," she says, pausing once again and taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself.
"That's not true! Tell me it's not true," I cry, getting up and looking down at her. She slowly nods her head, tears starting to emerge as well. "No!"
"That's why she left, so that she wouldn't put you through seeing her like that. She thought it would be in your best interest for her to leave," she says, getting up and going to stand in front of the window.
"Where is she now," I ask, balling my hands into fists.
"At that institution, as a patient. Don't worry, she's fine. All those times that your grandfather and I go out of town once a month, is to go pay her a visit," she says, gazing out the window.
"And you didn't tell me! How could you," I scream, causing her to flinch. I jump up from the chair and run up to my room, slamming the door behind me and throwing myself onto my bed, burying my head on the pillow, crying uncontrollably. How could they have kept this from me for so long? How dare they?!
I don't know how long I was barricaded inside my room, a few days at the most. I didn't go out nor talk to my grandparents. During the time that I was in there, I decided what I was going to do. I was going to find my mother. I had enough money saved up and I was still in touch in my father's parents, they could help me out. They live in New Jersey, somewhere nearby in a city called Trenton.
I was lying on my bed, staring at my ceiling, as usual, when I hear my grandmother's voice outside my door.
"Alexia, when are you coming out? You've been in there for days. Please, come out and talk to me. Por favor, mija," she says, her voice filled with sorrow. I sigh, rolling off my bed and landing on the floor with a dull thud.
"Oww…" I mutter, getting up and rubbing my head. I walk over to the door and slowly open it, revealing my grandmother's worried face. "I just needed some time to think, abuela. I'm not mad at you nor abuelo."
"I know. It's just that it's worried me. You haven't eaten in a few days, mija. You need to eat something. Come downstairs with me," she says, reaching for my hand and pulling me behind her. I follow without protest and she leads me into kitchen, sitting me down in a chair. A few minutes later, a huge plate of steaming hot food is placed in front of me. "Eat," she orders, sitting down next to me.
I comply, not wanting her to get mad at me or anything, that and I was starving. I was only able to finish about half of what she gave and she still tried to force me to eat more. I tell her that I couldn't eat anymore and started bombarding her with more questions, which she answered promptly.
After about an hour of talking to her, I finally excuse myself, telling her that I needed to go. She simply nods her head and gets up, starting to prepare for when my grandfather arrives home. I walk into the living room and pick up the phone and my grandmother's phone book, taking them upstairs with me to my room.
I lock myself in and flip through the pages of the book, looking for a certain number that I needed. I finally find it near the back and quickly punch in the numbers, bringing the phone up to my ear and hearing it ring.
They finally pick up on the fourth ring and I take a deep breath, since I was starting to have second thoughts about what I was going to do.
"Hello," I say, my heart beating faster.
"Yes? Who is this," a woman's voice on the other line asks, her voice calm.
"Abuela, it's me, Alexia, Josefina's daughter," I say, finally finding my voice and talking to my father's mother for the first time in almost five years.
I shake my head, trying so hard to remember.
"Well, that building, which is in Belleville, New Jersey, was in fact a hospital, one that specialized in mental disorders. We, as in, your grandfather and I, plus you and your mother, made frequent visits there," she says, pausing for a few minutes.
"And what does that have to do with my mother," I ask, clearly confused.
"When your father died, it devastated your mother. It was horrible, especially since she was still eight months pregnant with you. It tore her apart once Omar was gone. After you were born, she started seeing things, saying that her Omar was back, that he was always inside her room. Your grandfather and I became extremely worried about her. We would walk by her room and hear her talking to someone and when we opened the door to see whom it was, she was only talking to herself. After a couple of years of this going on, we finally persuaded her to let us take her to a hospital. There, they weren't able to tell us anything of value, but recommended another hospital. An institution. We took your mother and once there, we finally found out what was wrong with her. Your mother was suffering from mild schizophrenia," she says, pausing once again and taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself.
"That's not true! Tell me it's not true," I cry, getting up and looking down at her. She slowly nods her head, tears starting to emerge as well. "No!"
"That's why she left, so that she wouldn't put you through seeing her like that. She thought it would be in your best interest for her to leave," she says, getting up and going to stand in front of the window.
"Where is she now," I ask, balling my hands into fists.
"At that institution, as a patient. Don't worry, she's fine. All those times that your grandfather and I go out of town once a month, is to go pay her a visit," she says, gazing out the window.
"And you didn't tell me! How could you," I scream, causing her to flinch. I jump up from the chair and run up to my room, slamming the door behind me and throwing myself onto my bed, burying my head on the pillow, crying uncontrollably. How could they have kept this from me for so long? How dare they?!
I don't know how long I was barricaded inside my room, a few days at the most. I didn't go out nor talk to my grandparents. During the time that I was in there, I decided what I was going to do. I was going to find my mother. I had enough money saved up and I was still in touch in my father's parents, they could help me out. They live in New Jersey, somewhere nearby in a city called Trenton.
I was lying on my bed, staring at my ceiling, as usual, when I hear my grandmother's voice outside my door.
"Alexia, when are you coming out? You've been in there for days. Please, come out and talk to me. Por favor, mija," she says, her voice filled with sorrow. I sigh, rolling off my bed and landing on the floor with a dull thud.
"Oww…" I mutter, getting up and rubbing my head. I walk over to the door and slowly open it, revealing my grandmother's worried face. "I just needed some time to think, abuela. I'm not mad at you nor abuelo."
"I know. It's just that it's worried me. You haven't eaten in a few days, mija. You need to eat something. Come downstairs with me," she says, reaching for my hand and pulling me behind her. I follow without protest and she leads me into kitchen, sitting me down in a chair. A few minutes later, a huge plate of steaming hot food is placed in front of me. "Eat," she orders, sitting down next to me.
I comply, not wanting her to get mad at me or anything, that and I was starving. I was only able to finish about half of what she gave and she still tried to force me to eat more. I tell her that I couldn't eat anymore and started bombarding her with more questions, which she answered promptly.
After about an hour of talking to her, I finally excuse myself, telling her that I needed to go. She simply nods her head and gets up, starting to prepare for when my grandfather arrives home. I walk into the living room and pick up the phone and my grandmother's phone book, taking them upstairs with me to my room.
I lock myself in and flip through the pages of the book, looking for a certain number that I needed. I finally find it near the back and quickly punch in the numbers, bringing the phone up to my ear and hearing it ring.
They finally pick up on the fourth ring and I take a deep breath, since I was starting to have second thoughts about what I was going to do.
"Hello," I say, my heart beating faster.
"Yes? Who is this," a woman's voice on the other line asks, her voice calm.
"Abuela, it's me, Alexia, Josefina's daughter," I say, finally finding my voice and talking to my father's mother for the first time in almost five years.