The Hospital
Darkness
Weeks went by and I still hadn’t seen Charlotte. Not in the rec room, not at mealtimes, not anywhere. It was odd, and I longed to see her again. None of the nurses would tell me where she was, and one of them, Ms. Massingale, smacked me when I insisted that I see her.
Aside from withholding information, they also stuffed me full of pills, one every few hours and two at dinner. I didn’t think they were doing anything, until Janie disappeared one day.
I began to feel like I was losing my mind. There were days when nurses would come into my room and give me my morning pill, and then I’d wake up in the cafeteria, sitting in one of those wheelchairs with the straps, having no recollection of how I got there. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night swearing I’d just heard someone screaming but it always stopped before I could know if it was really happening or not.
It was around noon I think when there was the sound of the lock turning on my door and the red haired nurse came in. Her frail frame was wrapped in a mint green cardigan with a small white C embroidered on one side. I remembered that Charlotte used to have one just like it. She was pushing a wheelchair in front of her, which I knew without her saying so was meant for me, and I sat down in it, allowing her to strap my arms and legs in.
She wheeled me off down the hallway with so much ease that I must have lost weight or something because I was definitely bigger than her when I came here. She took me through a different door than she normally did, which was weird seeing as we had a very strict schedule that allowed no room for trips around the hospital, but I didn’t mind; I was eager to see if maybe this was where Charlotte had been dwelling all this time.
This hallway was different from the rest of the ones I’d seen, though. It was darker, the only illumination being from a few bare bulbs dangling above our heads. One thing that unnerved me was the utter lack of patients or doctors. Usually there was always activity, even at night, but here there was no one.
A few moments later I found myself in a small room that consisted of only a hospital bed and a table laden with different types of knives. The nurse rolled my sleeve and pricked me with the needle of the syringe she’d apparently been carrying so fast that I didn’t even notice until a strange sense of numbness started spreading through me. I attempted to twist my head around to look at her but my body wouldn’t let me move an inch.
One by one she began undoing the straps on the wheelchair until all of my limbs were free. She reached down and picked me up with a strength I had no idea she possessed and carried me bridal style to the hospital bed, dropping me unceremoniously onto the uncomfortable surface.
She turned away from me to face the table, her hands hovering above the shining weapons until she made her choice. When she was facing me again I could see the tip of a thin blade in one of her hands and a strange, almost ice cream scoop like instrument in her other hand.
“I used to have a cousin like you,” she all but whispered, staring off into space. “He said he could see people too. We all thought he just had an overactive imagination, until he began to complain that they were telling him to do horrible things. My aunt sent him to the doctor, who had him thrown into a sanitarium where they drugged poor Michael until he couldn’t even remember his own name.” A small tear dropped from one of the nurses eyes and landed on the bridge of my nose.
“He died last year, of an accidental over dose. It turns out that the nurse looking after him had given him a high dosage of the wrong medicine.” Her grip on the tools tightened. “I was so angry when I found out. We’d been best friends, and I couldn’t help him. But I can help you, can’t I? If you can’t see your friend Janie, she doesn’t exist, right?” My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I began to understand the woman’s twisted plan. Suddenly she looked down at me, her face red from crying.
“We couldn’t save your sister, either, although I don’t think Ms. Massingale tried too hard. You see, she doesn’t have as much patience as the other nurses do, feeling it’s easier to kill and rid the world of the evil rather than to try and fix the patient’s problem, but that won’t happen to you, I promise. Never once have I had to kill a schizophrenic patient.” Charlotte was dead? Charlotte was dead!
My head swirled with thoughts of Charlotte, but I wasn’t as surprised as one would think, because a part of me had already figured it out, I suppose. But that didn’t stop the horrible sadness from consuming me. I was still trying to calm myself down (a difficult process when drugged) when the nurse held my eyes open and brought the knife closer.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three days later and I still hadn’t adjusted to a life without sight. The nurse, who I’d heard someone refer to as Maris, had tried to help me get used to it, but I wasn’t eager to learn. All I wanted were my eyes back.
Mom and Dad had come as soon as they’d been informed of my “accident” to take me home, deciding it was safe again to have me around since I had no eyes to see my supposed hallucinations with. Right now Maris was telling them how awful and unexpected the whole situation was, how no one could have known that other patient would lose control like that during lunch, and how it was futile to try and save my eyes after he’d mutilated them so badly with his fork, but at least they’d saved my life, right? I heard mom gasp and begin to cry as she let the news sink in. Dad was as composed as ever I bet, because he didn’t make a single sound.
“I sure can’t wait to get out of here. I was beginning to think you’d never get off of those pills.” I smiled slightly as Janie put her hand on my knee. It was great to hear her voice again.
Aside from withholding information, they also stuffed me full of pills, one every few hours and two at dinner. I didn’t think they were doing anything, until Janie disappeared one day.
I began to feel like I was losing my mind. There were days when nurses would come into my room and give me my morning pill, and then I’d wake up in the cafeteria, sitting in one of those wheelchairs with the straps, having no recollection of how I got there. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night swearing I’d just heard someone screaming but it always stopped before I could know if it was really happening or not.
It was around noon I think when there was the sound of the lock turning on my door and the red haired nurse came in. Her frail frame was wrapped in a mint green cardigan with a small white C embroidered on one side. I remembered that Charlotte used to have one just like it. She was pushing a wheelchair in front of her, which I knew without her saying so was meant for me, and I sat down in it, allowing her to strap my arms and legs in.
She wheeled me off down the hallway with so much ease that I must have lost weight or something because I was definitely bigger than her when I came here. She took me through a different door than she normally did, which was weird seeing as we had a very strict schedule that allowed no room for trips around the hospital, but I didn’t mind; I was eager to see if maybe this was where Charlotte had been dwelling all this time.
This hallway was different from the rest of the ones I’d seen, though. It was darker, the only illumination being from a few bare bulbs dangling above our heads. One thing that unnerved me was the utter lack of patients or doctors. Usually there was always activity, even at night, but here there was no one.
A few moments later I found myself in a small room that consisted of only a hospital bed and a table laden with different types of knives. The nurse rolled my sleeve and pricked me with the needle of the syringe she’d apparently been carrying so fast that I didn’t even notice until a strange sense of numbness started spreading through me. I attempted to twist my head around to look at her but my body wouldn’t let me move an inch.
One by one she began undoing the straps on the wheelchair until all of my limbs were free. She reached down and picked me up with a strength I had no idea she possessed and carried me bridal style to the hospital bed, dropping me unceremoniously onto the uncomfortable surface.
She turned away from me to face the table, her hands hovering above the shining weapons until she made her choice. When she was facing me again I could see the tip of a thin blade in one of her hands and a strange, almost ice cream scoop like instrument in her other hand.
“I used to have a cousin like you,” she all but whispered, staring off into space. “He said he could see people too. We all thought he just had an overactive imagination, until he began to complain that they were telling him to do horrible things. My aunt sent him to the doctor, who had him thrown into a sanitarium where they drugged poor Michael until he couldn’t even remember his own name.” A small tear dropped from one of the nurses eyes and landed on the bridge of my nose.
“He died last year, of an accidental over dose. It turns out that the nurse looking after him had given him a high dosage of the wrong medicine.” Her grip on the tools tightened. “I was so angry when I found out. We’d been best friends, and I couldn’t help him. But I can help you, can’t I? If you can’t see your friend Janie, she doesn’t exist, right?” My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I began to understand the woman’s twisted plan. Suddenly she looked down at me, her face red from crying.
“We couldn’t save your sister, either, although I don’t think Ms. Massingale tried too hard. You see, she doesn’t have as much patience as the other nurses do, feeling it’s easier to kill and rid the world of the evil rather than to try and fix the patient’s problem, but that won’t happen to you, I promise. Never once have I had to kill a schizophrenic patient.” Charlotte was dead? Charlotte was dead!
My head swirled with thoughts of Charlotte, but I wasn’t as surprised as one would think, because a part of me had already figured it out, I suppose. But that didn’t stop the horrible sadness from consuming me. I was still trying to calm myself down (a difficult process when drugged) when the nurse held my eyes open and brought the knife closer.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three days later and I still hadn’t adjusted to a life without sight. The nurse, who I’d heard someone refer to as Maris, had tried to help me get used to it, but I wasn’t eager to learn. All I wanted were my eyes back.
Mom and Dad had come as soon as they’d been informed of my “accident” to take me home, deciding it was safe again to have me around since I had no eyes to see my supposed hallucinations with. Right now Maris was telling them how awful and unexpected the whole situation was, how no one could have known that other patient would lose control like that during lunch, and how it was futile to try and save my eyes after he’d mutilated them so badly with his fork, but at least they’d saved my life, right? I heard mom gasp and begin to cry as she let the news sink in. Dad was as composed as ever I bet, because he didn’t make a single sound.
“I sure can’t wait to get out of here. I was beginning to think you’d never get off of those pills.” I smiled slightly as Janie put her hand on my knee. It was great to hear her voice again.
♠ ♠ ♠
And she lives!