Mad House

Millie tapped her foot anxiously against the dirty linoleum floor, twisting her fingers around, clenching and unclenching them until she could barely feel them anymore. Her hands were shaky from her nerves, which was about the only thing she inherited from her mother. She had been freaking out in the waiting room for about an hour and a half worrying over what the poor excuse for a doctor wanted with her this time.

He had called her down early in morning, before the sun had even risen, to talk over some mysterious thing she must’ve done. She didn’t know what she really did wrong anymore. There were days that just breathing the wrong way would cause Dr. James to call her down, but he did that with all the attractive nurses, or so she was told. She had yet to see any other nurse down here as often as she.

Just because she was here frequently, did not mean she was any less scared every time she came down. Oh no, ma'am. She was still scared as a cat caught in a tree every time she came here. She never knew just when Dr. James would take it too far, when his “unintentional” touches would become more demanding, more dangerous. Or when he’d get sick of her and just fire her. She couldn’t take either option.

Jill, Dr. James’ unfortunate secretary, cleared her throat, breaking Millie’s focus on the dark oak door in front of her. Millie looked up at Jill and smiled.

"He's ready for you now," she told her, guiding her to the door with her hands.

Millie stood up and dusted off her skirt, flattening out the kinks and wrinkles. She nodded at the secretary before she opened the door to the devil incarnate.

Millie popped her head through the door, her body hidden behind the bulky wood. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Dr. James was leaning against his desk, back hunched over an open file, humming. Looking up, his eyes searched for her body, something he enjoyed staring at, unfortunately. She moved through the doors and sat quickly on one of the chairs in his office.

“Yes, I did,” he said as he shut the file and placed it behind him. “I wanted to discuss with you your relationship with patient Harold Styles. I’ve heard from some that it may be inappropriate."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head. "I don't understand sir. My relationship with the patients is nothing but appropriate, especially with Mr. Styles."

"That's the problem. There should be no relationship to speak of. You are here to administer medication and help with procedures. This is a center for the criminally insane, not to make friends with lying psychopaths who would rather cause trouble than be any sort of useful in society." Dr. James moved closer to Millie, placing his cold hands on either side of her seat. He leaned in closer until his face was uncomfortably close to hers. "Do we have an understanding, Ms. Grace?"

Millie nodded, biting her quivering bottom lip. Her eyes burned as she stared at anything but the doctor's eyes. Hot air brushed her ear and her body shook. Sweaty fingers pushed her skirt up as they caressed her tight clad thigh.

"You know, Ms. Grace, you do look especially appetizing this morning," he whispered in her ear and the hand moved further up. "I do love how great your ass looks in this skirt."

"Doctor, I don't think..." Millie began, only to be cut off by a cold wetness being pressed into her ear, trailing around the shell of it.

"Hmm... You taste like honey," he purred, taking another sick lick at her ear. His hand continued ascending, goosebumps trailing behind it. Her stomach churned at his actions and his words. She fought hard against the instinct to pull away and slap him into next Sunday. "I bet I can make you feel better than that Styles boy ever could."

As if taken over by some ghost, Millie's hand lifted and slapped the very doctor she so greatly feared. He pulled away, clutching the reddened cheek. His glasses, that were once placed ever so neatly on the bridge of his nose, were crooked and dangling on an ear. The doctor groaned and, turning ever so slowly, stared wide eyed the speechless nurse. Millie was frozen in place and not even The Lord Jesus himself could move her.

"You little bitch," he spat, pulling his arm back ready to slap her back. Millie shielded herself, using her arms as cover from the oncoming attack.

"I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry." Tears spouted out of her eyes like waterfalls to powerful to stop. She gasped and sobbed and saliva escaped her mouth.

"Oh you're going to be, bitch." He lowered his hand, moving away from the chair to behind the desk. "I want you to head to the procedure room now. You're going to help out with your first ECT treatment."

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The room was cold and smelled sterile, which surprised Millie because by the look of it, it was anything but. The lights were flickering on top of dirty coverings full of dead things. There were stains in the linoleum that looked very much like dried blood and it scared her. Whatever happened in this room scared the hell out of Millie. She didn't want to take any part in it.

"Is that blood?" She asked the nurse next to her. The nurse looked at the spot and then at Millie. She nodded her head solemnly. "I was afraid of that."

Her fingers found each other, intwining and twisting and tugging and pulling. She was back to her nervous habits again. And was she ever nervous.

In a matter of seconds, the double doors slammed open and a shaky gurney was being pushed in. The male nurses were struggling with the person on the gurney, pushing down whoever it was repeatedly with excess force. She could hear the groans and screams of the patient as they tried to move him to the bed. The shaggy hair of the top of the man’s head was bouncing around as he struggled, kicking and scratching the men trying to hold him.

The closest man suddenly let go of the boy’s arm and decked him across the face. The boy groaned again, blood dripping onto the sheets.

“Little fucker bit me!” the nurse went to slap him again but Millie intercepted. “Get out of the way, bitch. I’m tired of his shit. He had it coming, that Styles kid always has it coming.”

She turned to him, a bloodied mess. Removing the handkerchief from her apron pocket, she dabbed his nose carefully, arching his head up, hoping to stop the blood. She sighed, hoping the tears would not escape from her weak eyes. Her lip was already quivering again. She was such a weak girl.

“God, what have they done to you?” His eyes were closed as she caressed his cheek with her thumb. He hummed, leaning into her touch. Turning her head back to the male nurse, she glared at him. She looked at his name tag. “Todd, is it?”

Todd nodded, grunting out a yes.

“Todd, you broke his nose. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure Dr. James will not be pleased that you laid a hand on his patient.”

Because he likes to do himself, she thought.

“I’m pretty sure you’d smack him all way to Sunday if he bit you,” he muttered, pushing passed Millie and picking Harry back up. He moved forward, or at least, tried to, except Millie was in his way. “Move, girl.”

She begrudgingly moved a step back, letting the bulky men through. They dropped the body like dead weight on top of the mattress and then tied him up. Once the men disbanded, Millie rushed to his side, brushing back his hair.

She hated seeing him broken and bruised like this, like a rag doll tossed on streets, or an angel who fell from heaven. And so she shed her tears for her broken ghost of a man. She wanted to kill Todd, kill him for hurting such a precious broken angel.

“God, if he was such a pain, why didn’t you just sedate him?” she cried, trying to wipe more blood off her angel’s face. It wasn’t much use because blood kept pouring from his nose. The other woman grabbed Millie’s bloody hand and guided her to his nose, telling her keep the cloth there, adding some pressure. She thanked the woman, giving her a broken smile.

“Doc said no,” another man answered behind her. “Said ‘umthing bout interfering with the procedure.”

“Yes, I believe sedation messes with the effects of ECT treatments.”

If Millie could disappear only once in her life, she would choose now, this very moment. Her skin was crawling just by the sound of his voice. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t leave. Not with what she had to deal with and not without Harry. So she stayed put, moving away as the doctor examined the patient next to her.

“Well, let’s not delay this any further. Prep him, Nurse Callaghan,” he told the other nurse, as she made her way to an odd looking machine. “You Millie, have the special honor of holding him down. Wouldn’t want any broken bones, would we, Styles?”’

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Oh, God, what have I done?

All Millie could think about on the way home that night was the flickering lights above them and how every time the doc shocked him, the lights would flicker even more. And how his body would try to curl underneath her grip, bending into awkward, painful positions.

And his screams… God, his screams were the worst part. They rang through her ears without falter, like he was there, right next to her. She couldn’t handle the screams.

She was a monster for letting it happen, just like Dr. James.

She broke down half way through the door, just as the phone began to ring. She couldn’t stand looking at herself so she crawled to the phone, picking it up and saying an inaudible hello.

“Sissy,” the long deep southern drawl said, “sissy, you there?”

She coughed, clearing her throat. She wiped the tears off of her face and placed the receiver back on her ear. “Yea, I’m here Jay, I’m here.”

“I had a flashback again today, sissy. It was real bad. Ain’t had one that bad in a long time,” he told her, and she hummed in reply. “God, I can’t get the bodies out of my head. They are always there, taunting me. I can’t get ‘em out!”

“Neither can I, Jay, neither can I.”