Games Psychos Play
Chapter 3 A Lovers Quarrel
“Well are you coming?” Said James Gardner, the head security guard in charge of my containment.
“Relax James, paitence is a virtue.”
“Ms. Rose you are not allowed to call me by my first name. You may call me Mr. Gardner.” Replied James
“Oh James,” I said as he began to snap the handcuffs around my ankles and wrists. “I’m the type of person who likes to refer to her friends by their first names, and well after all this time together I hope were friends by now.” James with an uncomfortable look upon his face stood me up by grabbing my arm. I whimpered, pretending to be in pain, and he then proceeded to help me up more gently. I wrapped my arms around his waist pretending to stable my self. “Besides Mr. Gardner sounds like your mowing my lawn. And since you haven’t yet, eventhough I so desperately hope you will, you haven’t quite earned the title.” I said winking as he guided me out the door. He fought back a smile and kept his poker face that I had been trying to break since the beginning. We walked down the white halls turning when needed, James’ hand on my arm, romantic in a way. James was probably late 20’s, dark brown hair, chestnut hazel eyes, that almost turned green in the right light. He was built, as a security guard he had to be, and his smile was like a young Brad Pitt. (You know in his Fight Club and Troy days.) From time to time I would flirt with him, get inappropriate feels every once in awhile, but most was all kiddish. James however hated it, but then again part of me had to think how much did he really hate it? He never transferred, had someone else take over, even though sometimes it got completely inappropriate, he’d just snap my hand back as gently as possible and continued to do his job. We turned into the visiting room and James sat me down at an empty table and snapped the handcuffs off my feet to my chair which was bolted down to the floor. I joked around with James a bit, running my fingers through his hair, rubbing his ears and shoulders, he’d let it go on for a minute as he finished his task and then he’d take my hand, place it back in my lap, and move on to the his next task. No anger on his face but no pleasure either. I waited for him to finish my shackling and he left to get my visitor. I rolled my eyes at another visit from my depressed mother, or a supposedly “happy” visit from my younger sister and brother, a lecturing visit from my father, or a sympathetic visit from aunts and uncles. But my stomach turned, and I felt sick at the possibility that it could be— and there he appeared, as perfect as I had ever seen him. Stevie. His innocent blue eyes looked around in search of mine, and when he found them I couldn’t let go. My bestfriend, my only hold onto reality, my only hope that I would ever leave this place a changed women. He was the only thing I cared about. Most of me hated him seeing me like this, but I couldn’t be mad because I so desperately wanted to see him. He found his way to my table and James looked at me and told me to behave myself. We wouldn’t anymore tantrums like the one I threw last time. I lost visiting privileges for a month after that. Stevie looked st me wearily, probably because my eyes were on the brink of crying. He took my hands in his and kissed my palms. I could feel his kisses soothing my bruises from my handcuffs, the cuts from my tantrums, every part of me was in pain but somehow it all came alive now that he was here. As if my body knew there was healer around and needed the healing. We sat in silence for a moment as Stevie overlooked my malnutritioned body, my protruding bones, and my old and new bruises.
“They feed you in here?” He tried not to sound concerned.
“They do. I just…I don’t eat much.” I said, but truthfully most times when eating time came around I’d throw another tantrum to avoid human interaction.
“And the bruises?” He asked sighig and unconvinced, turning my arms over, never letting go of my hands.
“I haven’t been the best patient.” I admitted knowing I would never admit the same to any of the nurses, James, or Dr. Brown. He laughed a little, not surprised at that fact.
“Still the same story with you.” His eyes began to water, but no tears fell.
“How’s your mom? I hear she got a promotion?” I said, trying to quickly change the conversation. I couldn’t bare to see him cry over me.
“I didn’t come to talk about my mom gwen.” He said this time a little more stern, a tear falling from his left eye.
“Please Stevie, your the only one who doesn’t lecture me. Make me feel worse than I already feel.” I pulled my hands away, that hurt. “You think its easy being in here? You think I’m having fun? It’s easy for you guys to lecture me because you’re not in here!” I said this time almost yelling. Stevie hushed me and grabbed my hands again.
“I want you back Gwen. I want you back in my life. I don’t want to see you in here. You can’t be selfish like this or you’ll be in here forever.”
“Selfish?” I said getting more and more irritated.
“Yes, selfish. You think when you’re in here your the only one hurting? When you went in here we all did, especially me!”
“Is that a joke? You have no Idea what its like. To be without the one you—” I stopped to correct myself. “The ONES you love.”
“I think I do know how its like to be without the ONE you love.” Said stevie looking at me straight in my eyes. Stevie and I could never get what we wanted from eachother right. Sometimes he loved me, most times I loved him, and most times he just wanted to be friends.
“Your incredible stevie, you know that? Now you love me? Now I’m sufficient enough for you?”
“Gwen, don’t start this—”
“No you don’t start this!” I interrupted. “I am in a psychiatric facility, do you get that? That means I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy, you justneed help—” he tried to explain but I was done, I snatched my hands out of his and called out,
“James.” I said as he was already on his way. James appeared at the table, gesturing to Stevie that it was time to go.
“Gwen?” He said. I stared out the window and said no words. Stevie stood and James escorted him out of the room and came back to get me. He started to take the handcuffs off the chair and put them back on my ankles and expected me to do some annoying inappropriate gesture as his hand accidentally rubbed against my thigh, but my mind was somewhere else. I just continued to stare out the window as he lifted me this time even more gently. We walked down the halls as silent as I had ever been, I could tell the nurses were surprised. James unlocked my door sat me on the bed and unlocked my cuffs. In walked Nurse Patricia, as uppity as ever, clipboard in hand.
“No tantrum this time 417?” She said. Tears were welling up in my eyes but I wouldn’t let her see me cry.
“Not now Pat.” Said James sternly to Nurse Patricia. She paused looking at James appalled then rolled her eyes continuing to look at her clipboard.
“417 in, back from visitation.” She said checking a box and walking off. I sat in the bed motionless and tears began to drench my face. James placed his hand on my shoulder then on my cheek, and then, he walked out, shut and locked the door behind him. I was once again alone.
“Relax James, paitence is a virtue.”
“Ms. Rose you are not allowed to call me by my first name. You may call me Mr. Gardner.” Replied James
“Oh James,” I said as he began to snap the handcuffs around my ankles and wrists. “I’m the type of person who likes to refer to her friends by their first names, and well after all this time together I hope were friends by now.” James with an uncomfortable look upon his face stood me up by grabbing my arm. I whimpered, pretending to be in pain, and he then proceeded to help me up more gently. I wrapped my arms around his waist pretending to stable my self. “Besides Mr. Gardner sounds like your mowing my lawn. And since you haven’t yet, eventhough I so desperately hope you will, you haven’t quite earned the title.” I said winking as he guided me out the door. He fought back a smile and kept his poker face that I had been trying to break since the beginning. We walked down the white halls turning when needed, James’ hand on my arm, romantic in a way. James was probably late 20’s, dark brown hair, chestnut hazel eyes, that almost turned green in the right light. He was built, as a security guard he had to be, and his smile was like a young Brad Pitt. (You know in his Fight Club and Troy days.) From time to time I would flirt with him, get inappropriate feels every once in awhile, but most was all kiddish. James however hated it, but then again part of me had to think how much did he really hate it? He never transferred, had someone else take over, even though sometimes it got completely inappropriate, he’d just snap my hand back as gently as possible and continued to do his job. We turned into the visiting room and James sat me down at an empty table and snapped the handcuffs off my feet to my chair which was bolted down to the floor. I joked around with James a bit, running my fingers through his hair, rubbing his ears and shoulders, he’d let it go on for a minute as he finished his task and then he’d take my hand, place it back in my lap, and move on to the his next task. No anger on his face but no pleasure either. I waited for him to finish my shackling and he left to get my visitor. I rolled my eyes at another visit from my depressed mother, or a supposedly “happy” visit from my younger sister and brother, a lecturing visit from my father, or a sympathetic visit from aunts and uncles. But my stomach turned, and I felt sick at the possibility that it could be— and there he appeared, as perfect as I had ever seen him. Stevie. His innocent blue eyes looked around in search of mine, and when he found them I couldn’t let go. My bestfriend, my only hold onto reality, my only hope that I would ever leave this place a changed women. He was the only thing I cared about. Most of me hated him seeing me like this, but I couldn’t be mad because I so desperately wanted to see him. He found his way to my table and James looked at me and told me to behave myself. We wouldn’t anymore tantrums like the one I threw last time. I lost visiting privileges for a month after that. Stevie looked st me wearily, probably because my eyes were on the brink of crying. He took my hands in his and kissed my palms. I could feel his kisses soothing my bruises from my handcuffs, the cuts from my tantrums, every part of me was in pain but somehow it all came alive now that he was here. As if my body knew there was healer around and needed the healing. We sat in silence for a moment as Stevie overlooked my malnutritioned body, my protruding bones, and my old and new bruises.
“They feed you in here?” He tried not to sound concerned.
“They do. I just…I don’t eat much.” I said, but truthfully most times when eating time came around I’d throw another tantrum to avoid human interaction.
“And the bruises?” He asked sighig and unconvinced, turning my arms over, never letting go of my hands.
“I haven’t been the best patient.” I admitted knowing I would never admit the same to any of the nurses, James, or Dr. Brown. He laughed a little, not surprised at that fact.
“Still the same story with you.” His eyes began to water, but no tears fell.
“How’s your mom? I hear she got a promotion?” I said, trying to quickly change the conversation. I couldn’t bare to see him cry over me.
“I didn’t come to talk about my mom gwen.” He said this time a little more stern, a tear falling from his left eye.
“Please Stevie, your the only one who doesn’t lecture me. Make me feel worse than I already feel.” I pulled my hands away, that hurt. “You think its easy being in here? You think I’m having fun? It’s easy for you guys to lecture me because you’re not in here!” I said this time almost yelling. Stevie hushed me and grabbed my hands again.
“I want you back Gwen. I want you back in my life. I don’t want to see you in here. You can’t be selfish like this or you’ll be in here forever.”
“Selfish?” I said getting more and more irritated.
“Yes, selfish. You think when you’re in here your the only one hurting? When you went in here we all did, especially me!”
“Is that a joke? You have no Idea what its like. To be without the one you—” I stopped to correct myself. “The ONES you love.”
“I think I do know how its like to be without the ONE you love.” Said stevie looking at me straight in my eyes. Stevie and I could never get what we wanted from eachother right. Sometimes he loved me, most times I loved him, and most times he just wanted to be friends.
“Your incredible stevie, you know that? Now you love me? Now I’m sufficient enough for you?”
“Gwen, don’t start this—”
“No you don’t start this!” I interrupted. “I am in a psychiatric facility, do you get that? That means I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy, you justneed help—” he tried to explain but I was done, I snatched my hands out of his and called out,
“James.” I said as he was already on his way. James appeared at the table, gesturing to Stevie that it was time to go.
“Gwen?” He said. I stared out the window and said no words. Stevie stood and James escorted him out of the room and came back to get me. He started to take the handcuffs off the chair and put them back on my ankles and expected me to do some annoying inappropriate gesture as his hand accidentally rubbed against my thigh, but my mind was somewhere else. I just continued to stare out the window as he lifted me this time even more gently. We walked down the halls as silent as I had ever been, I could tell the nurses were surprised. James unlocked my door sat me on the bed and unlocked my cuffs. In walked Nurse Patricia, as uppity as ever, clipboard in hand.
“No tantrum this time 417?” She said. Tears were welling up in my eyes but I wouldn’t let her see me cry.
“Not now Pat.” Said James sternly to Nurse Patricia. She paused looking at James appalled then rolled her eyes continuing to look at her clipboard.
“417 in, back from visitation.” She said checking a box and walking off. I sat in the bed motionless and tears began to drench my face. James placed his hand on my shoulder then on my cheek, and then, he walked out, shut and locked the door behind him. I was once again alone.