Lunacy

The white walls were blinding and they burned Mackenzie’s sensitive retinas. She paced across the room, rubbing her hands rapidly over her bare arms as goose bumps prickled her skin. It was almost cold enough that Mackenzie could see her breath. The doctors wouldn’t turn on the heat. They said heat spread germs faster.

She wasn’t allowed a jacket because of its zipper or choking draw strings for fear that she would hurt herself or others. Mackenzie clung to the hope that her mother would bring her the sweater that she had promised her... about two months ago. Even though it had been so long, everyday she would look out the window hoping to see her and finally get it. She stopped pacing and could hear someone walking down the speckled tiles that filled the sanatorium. The door opened suddenly and there was a tall attendant wearing puke green scrubs smiling at the little girl.

“Are you ready?” he asked guiding her down the hallway.

“I guess so,” she replied not looking at the man.

They walked down the halls to a familiar door at the end of one of the corridors; that was their destination. Mackenzie went there at the same time everyday; it led to a beautiful room with lots of windows. She would go sit down near one of the windows. It was her favorite place to go. She looked forward to it everyday because she could feel the heat coming from the outside. Nowhere else in the sanitarium seemed as bright as that room. Her favorite thing about the room was that plastic chair that allowed a perfect view of the Dogwood trees that danced in the breeze during the summer.

Mackenzie was lost in her own little world, watching the trees and imagining what it would be like to run along the Dogwood trees when something caught her attention. When she looked over the cinnamon teddy bear in the corner mocked her. Willow hadn’t asked to play in a long time. She just sat there, in the corner, staring. Mackenzie didn’t like to think about what she was waiting for.



Reagan sulked down the hall. She did not like walking down the hall and never looked at anyone when she did. Reagan was too preoccupied as she strategically placed her cotton slippers in the speckled squares, being extra careful not to step outside the lines. The lines seemed to protect her from the bad things. They didn’t seem to find her in this place.

Her teachers said she was a sweet, loving child. She liked to play with the other children. She even drew beautiful pictures and answered all the questions in class. However, she still couldn’t remember what her parents looked like. The doctor said she couldn’t have pictures, which made her sad. She adored her parents more than anything else, she wanted to get out of this place to be back in their arms.

Blonde curls hung like a wet mop atop her sister’s head. The little girl had glassy, dead eyes that scared Reagan and she did not like when Ella looked at her with those eyes and a playful grin. Those eyes glazed over as she tried to hold her big sister’s hand. Reagan’s fingers twitched as she maneuvered her arm through the air, away from Ella. The stubby attendant watched her hand dance across the air. The woman wondered what the little girl was fending off this time.

Ella skipped along playing with Reagan’s twitching fingers. Her twitching made Ella giggle, as if it was a game to try to get Reagan's hand to twitch. Ella's giggles made Reagan's ears hurt and she tried to keep in the lines and also, keep the sound out. The attendant placed her hand on Reagan’s shoulder to avoid a collision with the wall. She opened the familiar, blinding door. It led into a neutral colored room with large windows overlooking the gardens. Reagan grimaced as her sister ran through the thorny rose bushes while she plopped down next to Mackenzie. Ella appeared on the floor between the gaped chairs while she swatted at Reagan’s ever moving, twitching hand.

Mackenzie glanced at Reagan. Reagan smiled sweetly in return before hissing “stop!”



Jocelyn towel dried her damp hair, slightly humming to herself. The doctors made the patients here take scheduled bathes every other day. Germs taunted the white coats. She wondered if crazy was contagious. ‘No!’ She thought. ’I would’ve caught it by now.’

Her lanky attendant opened the bathroom curtain just as Jocelyn pulled her assigned blue gown over her hips. She smiled coyly at the woman’s strawberry blonde curled ponytail. She begged the woman to wear it down, but the woman continuously refused. Jocelyn thought that the woman would look prettier with it down, and wondered if her Daddy would like her as well. She could see the woman’s skin prickling as she dropped the towel. “Is it time already?”

Jocelyn’s attendant ushered her out of the bathroom and into the brilliant hall. Clouds surrounded her as she spun once, slinging water from her still damp locks. The others seemed frightened by the clouds in the hall, but not Jocelyn. She wanted to fall into their fluffy whiteness just like the stories her father’s friends used to tell her. When she thought of him, a pang of horror burst in her chest. Something was missing here.

Jocelyn immediately stopped spinning and sauntered in front of her attendant, blocking the door to the stupid playroom. She waited for her to say something, but the woman’s eyes narrowed while the corners of her mouth tilted downward. The woman put her hands on her hips before she tapped her foot. Jocelyn frowned while mimicking the woman. She knew that the woman did not like her, but she needed ask the question.... “When do I get to see Daddy?” She blurted her question as if someone promised her the answer she wanted in advance.

The woman sighed, pushed Jocelyn gently to the left and opened the door. She gave her the same answer every time Jocelyn asked, which was “Ask the doctor,” through a shaky voice. She hated to admit it, but the little girl gave her the creeps and any mention of her father set the hair on the back of the woman’s neck on edge.

“Alright!” Jocelyn said in a sing-song voice before she skipped into the room. She flopped down next to Mackenzie and grinned.