All That I've Got
The Asylum
"Ms. Winters, it's time for your therapy session. Dr. Andrews says he has wonderful news for you!"
I've heard that same overly excited voice for the last year and a half that I've been here, and Ms. Susan definately wasn't going to be the one to cheer me up. If that were even possible in this place. This place you ask? None other than The Belleville Instituition For Mental Growth, the place where my parents had dropped me off at in hopes that I'd get better. But if you ask me, there was no illness to get over.
All the same, I got up from my crouched position on the floor and followed Ms. Susan out the door, down the hall to the familiar room. Nothing should have looked familiar, everything here was the same - everything was white!
Ms. Susan opened the door just as she did every other Friday, smiling as she held it open. I quietly walked past her into the room, greeted by Dr. Andrews as I took my seat.
"Hello Ms. Winters, ready for today's session?" he asked looking up at me from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.
This was one of the many attempts they made to get me to talk, something I'd refused to do ever since that thing happened. Eventually they learned to only ask yes or no questions, but I admired their patience all the same.
Dr. Andrews didn't wait for my nod. I had no choice but to attend these sessions, even if I wasn't ready for them. I'd learned this the hard way on my very first session with Dr. Andrews.
Any sudden movements or actions that threatened Mr. Andrew's safety would cause me pain. He kept a full needle of medication under his notebook for every session since then. Its contents were enough to knock me out for a week and leave me in agonizing pain when I woke up, so naturally I learned quickly. I behaved myself as I sat in the chair across from him, my legs folded under me as I fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of my blue jeans.
"Well Ms. Winters, I have excellent news. Your nurses have all reported that you've made excellent progress ever since our first visit, and we've contacted your parents with this information. You're going home tomorrow!" he said with a friendly smile.
I couldn't help myself, my jaw dropped as I analyzed what he'd just told me. You're going home tomorrow, there was no 'can'; I had no choice but to go back. But even then, my parents wanted me back? After all the emotional stress I put them through, they wanted me back?
"They should be here tomorrow around noon, so please have your bags packed. That'll be all for today Ms. Winters."
As if on queue, Ms. Susan had opened the door and was waiting for me to get up from my chair, to lead me back to my holding cell, which they referred to as my room.
"Aren't you excited Ms. Winters? You're going home, no more of this place! Oh, you have so many possibilities honey. This place isn't right for you at all," she fussed as she opened my door for me. Really, she was the only one I tolerated in this place. my other nurses made no attempt at communication, they knew I blocked them out whenever they spoke. Despite Ms. Susan's words of encouragement, I brushed past her and went without a fight into my room, back into the confines of the white walls that I'd never get used to.
"Are you going to eat dinner tonight hun?" she asked before leaving the room, probably already expecting the shake of my head. "You're always being so difficult, skinny as a stick too," she said to herself as she closed the door and left the room, probably voicing her disapproval the whole way.
It wasn't like they could force me to eat. The most I'd consumed ever since I arrived was a slice of pizza and a cookie; but even then my stomach couldn't handle it, and my dinner never got a chance to fully digest. I was of an average weight when I came here, but for some reason, eating just seemed pointless. Could be a shocker for my parents.
I curled up on my hard mattress with my sketch book in my lap, working on my latest creation. It was a scene that forever remained in my memory: when I was a little girl and my father would take me out to the meadow and we'd just lay there all day, looking up at the clouds, not caring what kind of insects crawled through our hair. I felt something wet on my cheek, and when I pulled my hand away from my face, I realized that I was crying.
I quickly wiped the tears away and put my sketchbook back under my mattress where it was safe from prying eyes, letting exhaustion from my lack of energy take over as I fell into a dreamless sleep. I wondered if my parents would change their minds about me tomorrow. They hadn't visited since the month after they enrolled me in this place, said it was too painful for them. But I'd find out soon enough, I knew that much.
I've heard that same overly excited voice for the last year and a half that I've been here, and Ms. Susan definately wasn't going to be the one to cheer me up. If that were even possible in this place. This place you ask? None other than The Belleville Instituition For Mental Growth, the place where my parents had dropped me off at in hopes that I'd get better. But if you ask me, there was no illness to get over.
All the same, I got up from my crouched position on the floor and followed Ms. Susan out the door, down the hall to the familiar room. Nothing should have looked familiar, everything here was the same - everything was white!
Ms. Susan opened the door just as she did every other Friday, smiling as she held it open. I quietly walked past her into the room, greeted by Dr. Andrews as I took my seat.
"Hello Ms. Winters, ready for today's session?" he asked looking up at me from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.
This was one of the many attempts they made to get me to talk, something I'd refused to do ever since that thing happened. Eventually they learned to only ask yes or no questions, but I admired their patience all the same.
Dr. Andrews didn't wait for my nod. I had no choice but to attend these sessions, even if I wasn't ready for them. I'd learned this the hard way on my very first session with Dr. Andrews.
Any sudden movements or actions that threatened Mr. Andrew's safety would cause me pain. He kept a full needle of medication under his notebook for every session since then. Its contents were enough to knock me out for a week and leave me in agonizing pain when I woke up, so naturally I learned quickly. I behaved myself as I sat in the chair across from him, my legs folded under me as I fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of my blue jeans.
"Well Ms. Winters, I have excellent news. Your nurses have all reported that you've made excellent progress ever since our first visit, and we've contacted your parents with this information. You're going home tomorrow!" he said with a friendly smile.
I couldn't help myself, my jaw dropped as I analyzed what he'd just told me. You're going home tomorrow, there was no 'can'; I had no choice but to go back. But even then, my parents wanted me back? After all the emotional stress I put them through, they wanted me back?
"They should be here tomorrow around noon, so please have your bags packed. That'll be all for today Ms. Winters."
As if on queue, Ms. Susan had opened the door and was waiting for me to get up from my chair, to lead me back to my holding cell, which they referred to as my room.
"Aren't you excited Ms. Winters? You're going home, no more of this place! Oh, you have so many possibilities honey. This place isn't right for you at all," she fussed as she opened my door for me. Really, she was the only one I tolerated in this place. my other nurses made no attempt at communication, they knew I blocked them out whenever they spoke. Despite Ms. Susan's words of encouragement, I brushed past her and went without a fight into my room, back into the confines of the white walls that I'd never get used to.
"Are you going to eat dinner tonight hun?" she asked before leaving the room, probably already expecting the shake of my head. "You're always being so difficult, skinny as a stick too," she said to herself as she closed the door and left the room, probably voicing her disapproval the whole way.
It wasn't like they could force me to eat. The most I'd consumed ever since I arrived was a slice of pizza and a cookie; but even then my stomach couldn't handle it, and my dinner never got a chance to fully digest. I was of an average weight when I came here, but for some reason, eating just seemed pointless. Could be a shocker for my parents.
I curled up on my hard mattress with my sketch book in my lap, working on my latest creation. It was a scene that forever remained in my memory: when I was a little girl and my father would take me out to the meadow and we'd just lay there all day, looking up at the clouds, not caring what kind of insects crawled through our hair. I felt something wet on my cheek, and when I pulled my hand away from my face, I realized that I was crying.
I quickly wiped the tears away and put my sketchbook back under my mattress where it was safe from prying eyes, letting exhaustion from my lack of energy take over as I fell into a dreamless sleep. I wondered if my parents would change their minds about me tomorrow. They hadn't visited since the month after they enrolled me in this place, said it was too painful for them. But I'd find out soon enough, I knew that much.