Institutionalized

The hour-long ride from my house to Shady Acres Mental Hospital was, essentially, silent. Even though my entire family was packed into the car, the only sound to be heard was the same five obnoxious pop songs repeating over and over on the radio. Occasionally, Mom would punctuate the loud silence with things like ‘This is for the best’ or ‘This could be a real learning experience, Lilly’.

After I had been released from the intensive care unit, I was allowed three days at home before I would have to leave for Shady Acres. Mostly I just rested and played video games with my little brother, Phillip. I tried eating meals with my family, but it was awkward because Mom was being fake-cheery, Dad was still barely speaking to anybody, and Phillip had no idea what was going on. Mostly Mom brought my meals upstairs and I ate in my room.

The last morning at home was a flurry of packing and Mom’s hurried, vague explanations of what my stay at Shady Acres would be like. She explained how I would have a roommate, I would participate in group therapy twice a week and see a private therapist three times a week, and that my school would send me my assignments during my stay so that I wouldn’t ‘fall behind’. Even though I wasn’t due to be at Shady Acres until later in the day, Mom wanted to get all the packing done so I would be prepared when we did have to leave.

And now, here we were, on our way to the nuthouse. Mom continued to chatter away about how wonderful it’ll be when I come home, cured of my depression. Dad sat up front, statue-still and not saying a word. Phillip’s eyes were glued to his DS.

When I looked at my little brother, a small lump built up in my throat. He and I had always been close—I’d help him with his pitching, tuck him into bed when our parents were fighting, play with him when he was bored—and I had to leave him alone for an indefinite amount of time. He had no idea that his big sister was going to a mental hospital because she had tried to kill herself. He was told—by Mom, no doubt—that ‘Lilly had an accident. She’s going away for a while, and when she comes home, she’ll be all better’. God, what was going to happen to him? What if my suicide attempt hadn’t failed? Who would tell that innocent little kid that his sister, the person he idolized more than anyone, had killed herself?

I’m the most selfish person on the planet. I was going to kill myself and leave my baby brother all alone.

That thought in and of itself made me want to break down and cry. But even though I had tears clouding my vision and the lump in my throat had swelled to astronomical proportions, I refused to let my sadness show. I simply turned my head and stared out the window. As if Mother Nature wanted to make a mockery of my entire situation, it was a beautiful sunny day outside.

“It’s just up ahead—oh, Lilly, look at it! There it is!” Mom pointed at the approaching facility. It really was something to marvel at—stone columns, big windows, several stories tall, and to top it all off, a beautiful botanical garden. If it wasn’t for the sign that declared Welcome to Shady Acres Mental Hospital, est. 1981 in fancy script, anybody passing by would have mistaken it for somebody’s house.

“It’s beautiful,” Mom gushed. “Lilly, you’re so lucky to be staying here. Oh, look at the garden—Michael, I think we should get some flowers like those for our garden at home—Phillip, just look at it, this is where Lilly is staying! Isn’t it nice?”

Phillip glanced up from his DS and his jaw dropped. “Wow. Lilly, it looks like a castle! You’re so lucky! Can I come with you?”

He looked at me, eyes all sparkly with little-kid wonder, and my stomach lurched with a desire to get better. I wanted to be cured so my little brother could have a sister who wasn’t sick in the head.

I forced a smile onto my face. “Sorry, Squirt, you’ve got to stay home. I’ll write you letters, OK?”

He grinned. “OK. But while you’re gone, I’m going to have to play my video games with someone else. You never know,” he said, wiggling his fingers, “I just might beat your high score!” After he finished, he laughed a little.

I chuckled a bit. “Keep dreaming. I could whip your butt any day.”

He laughed again as Mom pulled into the parking lot. As I unbuckled, Phillip leaned over and gave me a big hug. “I’m going to miss you, Lilly,” he squeaked. “I’m going to miss you a lot.”

The lump in my throat came back as I returned his hug. I’m going to miss you too, Squirt. Take good care of Mom and Dad.”

“I will,” he promised. I got out of the car, trying not to cry as I lifted my luggage out of the trunk of the car. I was about to shut my door when Phillip stopped me.

“Wait!” he cried. He paused, digging around in his backpack for something. He pulled out a small Charmander keychain. “Take this so you don’t forget about me.”

I took the little toy and slipped it into my pocket. “Thanks, Phil,” I said, surprised and touched by the gesture. “I won’t forget about you. Don’t worry.”

He grinned and waved at me out his window as Mom and I walked up the front steps and into the lobby. Mom approached the check-in desk and told the overly cheery receptionist that my name was Lilly Finnegan and Dr. Lowenstein from St. Andrew’s Hospital had arranged for my stay.

“Alright, Miss Finnegan, your room is on the second floor, Room 236. Your roommate is scheduled for her private therapy right now, and dinner is right afterwards, so she won’t be back in the room until around seven. Have a lovely day, both of you!”

Mom and I took the elevator to the second floor, where we quickly found my room. The walls and sheets on my bed were white, but it would appear that my roommate had done a bit of decorating of her own. She had hung a Cirque de Soleil poster above her bed, and on top of the dresser was a violin. She also had a black-and-red paint-splatter vase full of red and white roses on top of the nightstand.

“Well,” Mom began, “It’s not the same as your room at home, but it’s nice. Very roomy. Your roommate seems…interesting,” she said, picking up a creepy angel statue she had found sitting next to the violin.

“From the look of it, she seems like a freak,” I muttered.

Mom arched one eyebrow and gave me her ‘Be-Kind-To-Others’ stare. “Give her a chance, Lilly. She could be very nice.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “This whole place could be very nice. I hope you do well here.” She walked over to me and enveloped me in a hug. “Please make an effort to get better,” she said. I could feel tears on her face. “Your father and Phil and I love you so much. We don’t like to see you hurting.” She kissed me on the forehead and stepped back. “I love you. Take care of yourself.”

I swallowed the lump, which had expanded in size since we had entered the building, and put on a smile for her. “I love you too, Mom.”

She smiled at me. “Be sure to call or write home. I’d like to know what’s going on with you.”
“I will. Tell Phil that I love him.”

Mom nodded and then quickly exited the room. I let my smile drop and I heaved a sigh. I glanced at a few of the things that my roommate had left on the dresser and the nightstand. Creepy angel statues. Sketches of death scenes with poetry written on them. Dried flowers. Violin sheet music. Volumes of Poe and Shakespeare. I decided to go with my first gut instinct and assume that my roommate was, indeed, a freak.

I flopped down on my bed. It felt nice—the sheets were clean and cool, and the mattress was exactly the way I liked it. I figured that, since I didn’t have anything else to do, I would go to sleep. That way, I could put off any awkward introductions to my freakish roommate and skip a potentially nerve-wracking dinner. I dug around in my suitcase for a minute or two, located my pajamas, and put them on.

Way to kill two birds with one stone, Lilly, I congratulated myself as I lay down and pulled the sheets around me.

Then, when I was finally sure I had total privacy, I reached out to grab the Charmander keychain that Phillip had given me. I clutched it to my chest and finally let my guard down and let go of the lump that had been building in my throat all day. I cried for a long time, until I had fallen asleep.