Normally Traumatized

Normally Traumatized

Stop.

Heart beats faster.

Don’t be stupid.

Wind picks up, blowing papers off the desk, swiftly landing on the floor.

You know what’s best for you. I know what’s best for you.

One little step or jump, that’s all it takes.

My body hurts from the cold air, causing me to shiver. Why is this so hard? With my knees pulled tightly to my chest, I hang my head down and run my fingers halfway through my hair, pulling a little bunch of strands out every now and then. She keeps whispering to me, telling me to stop. To stop overthinking, which I do too much, and to stop being so afraid all the time, which I also do too much.

She knows I’m easily intimidated, but usually she always uplifts me, telling me I’ll be happier and more free. Only this time it was different. This time I was closer than I’d ever been, and not even She could influence my thoughts, even if most of the time She was my thoughts.

You never liked it much. This town, the people. They simply do not understand you like I do.

​She made some very good points, that She has always been good at. What’s the worst that can happen? I knew She wouldn’t ever lie to me, and so I trust her, it was just a matter of going through with the actions. I peeked out from in between my knees and leaned a slight bit more out the window, again noting the distance from the ledge of my fourth level apartment window compared to the ground distance. She, also reminding me of the happiness that meets me at the bottom. Even though I can’t see it, She says she can, therefore my happiness is in fact there. I can’t wait to meet my happiness. Our thoughts begin to wander away from the ledge as both of us think of this happiness character, but almost instantly She snaps my focus back.

Listen. Do you hear that?

​I hold my breath and listen to the noises outside of my bedroom door.

It’s your mother. Better make your decision before it’s too late.

But I have made my decision. I close my eyes then re-open them, I am ready.

___________________________________________________________________________

Calling out, I search for Happiness, knowing he is near. She said so, but maybe he was busy and could not meet me. It is near lunch time, so possibly he’ll meet me soon after the hour is over. I stop and wait, not paying any attention to the darkness surrounding me. I realize that She has not spoken to me yet, and I begin to panic and hope that I didn’t lose her on the way. She probably just took a wrong turn and got lost, the reassurance calms me. Something distracts me. I hear footsteps, much like my mother’s, and I begin to peer out into the darkness. Muffled voices, much like a man and a woman, are playing in the distance. I smell something odd, and feel a sharp pain in my arm, as if a needle was inserted deep into my veins. A tingling sensation engulfs my body and forces me to close my eyes. Everything feels empty; almost as if I were back to my normal self, my normal life, my normal hell.

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​It’s funny, really. I don’t have any recollection of anything actually happening. No satisfaction of feeling the wind rush past me, or the very sound of bones crushing against the pavement. Then again i’m not sure if I would get the chance to hear that, but it’s a lovely thought.

Now I understand why I don’t remember anything. I was too late.

Her voice and my heart pumping was too overpowering that it drowned out the fact that my mother had indeed broken into my room and somehow, acting as a motherly sixth sense, knew I was about to do something “dangerous”. She even came in prepared, putting the mask over my nose and mouth. I was out before even realizing what was happening. One breath in, that’s all it takes.

Wake up. There isn’t time to waste, my darling.

Relieved to know She was back, I obeyed and opened my eyes, promptly sitting up. I was lying on an ordinary bed in a small room with only one window. I’d been here before, when I was quite young and also was doing something “dangerous”. The windows were always foggy and had a sort of glaze embedded in it, having practically no use for it at all. In the corner of the room was a small camera, which after I saw it, I waved slowly to whoever was on the other side. I got up and walked towards the door, pressing my cheek against the cold metallic surface. There wasn’t much noise, but I knew someone would be coming to check up on me soon.

Okay, this isn’t a normal drill. Last time our plan did not work, do you remember? Now I need you to put on an act, like a game of pretend, and listen to what those men tell you. After which you will do exactly what they say and act as their definition of “normal”. You’ll be out in no time.

​Of course I obeyed and waited on my bed until a small little knock interrupted my thoughts—OUR thoughts.

“I see you are awake. Would you care to explain the feeling you are having at the moment?”

“I feel fine, just exhausted. What type of drug did you pump into me this time?” I softly touch the cotton over the small little hole, remembering the sharp pain that was felt earlier.

Completely disregarding the question he asks, “ Good, now tell me how you felt, more or less, what was going through your mind while sitting on your windowsill?”

Every part of me wanted to explain the thrill, yet peace, that comes from such an electrifying experience. She reminded me of our plan though and I instantly answered, “I just like to watch the town, the way the people rush to different events. My mother has always worried about me ever since I was last brought here. It’s been eleven whole years since my incident you know?” He stared and nodded, jotting down things in his notebook. “I mean, I come here obviously for regular check ups every other month. Last time I checked, you haven’t prescribed any more of those awfully huge pills, which I can only assume, means i’m doing just fine.”

“Yes, well like you said, you and your mother come here often for check ups. So just think of this as another ordinary check up.” I sighed and looked down at the ground as I softly brushed my toes again the hard concrete. He finished writing and looked up. “She hasn’t come back, has she?”

No, God no. I’ve been gone for awhile, never am I ever running through her thoughts. I listen to her sigh and continue with, Somebody please just get rid of this man, darling they’ll never understand us.

“No,” I reply, knowing she had never left. “If she had come back I would have told my mother, just like I was taught here. I am responsible, you know. I have learned what is right and what is wrong.” We looked deeply at each other, as if waiting for someone to crack the silence one last time. Finally he got up, told me he’d be back, and left.

__________________________________________________________________________

Eleven years. It has been eleven years since my incident, OUR incident. And since it was our incident, I was never really tried per se, I was just examined until they decided what to do. That decision both saved and wrecked me. Specialists and experts assigned to my “case” found I was legally insane, and being six years old at the time, it sounded fun. And since I was young, insane, and had a mental illness, I was not charged. Though, growing up I resented the words “mental” and “insane” because I knew I was not any of those. If anything it was the world around me that had an illness, one where they were quite arrogant and unwilling to understand my inner She thoughts.

It’s quite silly isn’t it? A six-year-old accused of “drowning” her own sister? Of course my intentions were not to drown her. I mean yes that is kind of what I did, but she was so desperate to meet Happiness, I just couldn’t bare to deprive her from whatever utopia was awaiting and see her live in such agony. Why is drowning such an immoral, unjust act? This is exactly what I mean when I say that everyone else has an illness, not me.

That's right darling, you know you did the right thing. I saw your sister yesterday, and she told me to thank you again. By the way, I get a feeling Happiness is going to propose to her soon. They’re both so much in love, thanks to you.

That’s so good. I knew she’d be a perfect match for him. Hopefully I'll be able to actually meet him, and maybe my mother won’t stop me this time.

Speaking of your mother, I believe I hear her voice trickling through the halls.

I sit quietly and wait.

____________________________________________________________________________

​“Please, don’t even think to lie to me. Help me help you. I just want you to be better.”

​“Mom for the last time! I am not lying to you. There is nothing—absolutely nothing—for me to hide. You are the one that is always so paranoid. Maybe it’s YOU that needs to sit in this cemented box with barely a window and creepy camera guys watching your every move.”

​She stood quietly facing away from me until she turned and sat next to me on the bed. “Well I mean, this bed does seem pretty solid to catch a good night’s rest on,” she said sarcastically. We glanced at each other giving a light hearted smirk and immediately returned to the ear piercing sound of uncomfortable silence.

​I threw my hands up and swung my body around to face her. “This is ridiculous and you know it. Please let's just go home.”

​“We can’t. They are deciding which medications to send with us.”

​“You have got to be kidding me. I told my specialist She isn’t here any-”

​“That is a lie. We all know it.”

​My mother has always been good at detecting dishonesty, but then again I have always been good at hiding it. This time I had been figured out and my mother, myself, and She, we all had to wait in this hell hole until decisions were made.

​A small knock sounded from the large door and in came Dr. Cortez-Phillips, one of the many familiar faces here. I always wondered why he couldn’t just choose one last name, but I guess that didn’t matter right now.

​“We analyzed some new behaviours and thought it’d be best to put in an order for pickup, this doesn’t mean we are adding more medications because we are actually taking away your lower dosage of Atosil and replacing it with Trilafon.”

“Let me guess, this other pill is a higher dosage?”

“Smart girl. But also, we’re taking you off Neurontin, seems like your mood swings are regular girl behaviour and not any sort of bipolar disorder.”

I roll my eyes and nod slowly, waiting until he stops talking and eventually leaves, first telling my mother we are now free to go. The drive home is silent. She whispers inside me saying, “here we go again.”

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​Water splashes up onto my face as I immerse my entire body, only leaving out my neck and head. Instantly a smile rushes to the corners of my mouth and I turn away from the splashes and small waves coming towards me.

​“I don’t think you’re going to win this!”

​“Oh yea? Make me stop then!” Her smile gleams off her tiny teeth as the sun reflects off the water. I swear my sister is such a silly girl, that is why we usually get along so well. We splash back and forth for a bit until both of us have enough water in our eyes to fill a deserted river.

“Okay stop it! You got some in my eyes,” she wipes at her wet face with her wet hands, solving practically none of her problems.

“Silly, that’s not even working. Get a towel or something.” She glares and splashes water at me. “Stop or else I won’t play with you anymore,” I yell, wiping at my own eyes.

“You stop or else I’ll punch you!”

“No you, or else I’ll-” You’ll what? You’ll kick her? Take her stuffed puppy toy? Oooh, or maybe drown her? “No,” I put my hands over my ears.

“What’s wrong? Is it her?” She moves closer towards me with her big brown eyes staring deep into mine. Even though mine are tightly closed, I have seen that concerned look before, and I sense she is making that same face now.

You know how easily she understands you. Explain the peace. She’ll meet Happiness, and you know how perfect her life will be. I know you can do it, my darling.

“Please let me help. What is She telling you?”

I open my eyes, “Something I shouldn’t say. But She says it will be better for you. That you’ll be happier.”

“Then tell me. I pinky promise I won’t tell nobody.”

“Okay fine,” I hesitate and look around past her, then focus in on her face. “Don’t you think drowning sounds like fun?”

She stares at me uncomfortably for a few seconds before responding, “Drowning? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“She says it doesn’t, and She never lies.”

​Her gaze went towards the water, and then she looked up and grinned slightly. “Momma? Will I be able to see her?”

​“I don’t know, I think so.” I grab her equally small hands in mine. “I promise I will help you do it if you’re scared to do it on your own. But you gotta be brave like momma. Don’t fight it.”

​“I am scared, but if you pinky promise to hold me under, I will.”

​“I promise.” We clung our pinky’s tightly together and hugged. “See you soon, when She tells me it’s the right time.”

​She nods and puts her face under for a second, almost as if she were doing her own practice run before coming up one last time. “Sorry if I kick you, this time it’s not on purpose.” I smile and watch as she sets her head down, slowly kicking each leg up one at a time allowing her body to float. She looked so peaceful, just barely kissing the tops of each tiny wave that bounces off the sides of the pool. I watched for not even thirty seconds when she brought her face up quickly, gasping for a breath, only to be shot down by my forcefulness just as quick. I knew by doing so, that she inhaled a lung full of water, so after kicking and splashing under the weight of my body pinning her under, eventually all was still.

I felt almost a sense of unfazed tranquility, like I had accomplished something for the better of all people. One person down, a whole world more to go. I just hope my lovely twin is jumping right into her well deserved paradise.

___________________________________________________________________________

​I’ve always remembered the day I drowned my lovely sister as an eventful one. I watched her body float across the water until I rolled her over to see her big brown eyes staring blankly, yet gracefully, into mine. That simplicity just had to be broken by the screeching sound of alarms and running footsteps.

“Someone call the police and hospital!”

​I was confused, but not surprised that people were again crowding the scene of another “dangerous” something I had done. I looked for my mother, only to be distracted by multiple arms grabbing me out of the water and two men slowly making their way into the pool. I screamed at them not to touch her. They looked so sad and scared, as if I was a nightmare. I hated that look, and I hated they couldn’t understand the joy in what I had done. Immediately they began pushing onto her chest and breathing their awful breath in her mouth. I was disgusted. It was torture knowing I didn’t drown myself also, and now I had to watch them try to revive her? These men, wearing their cheap doctors costumes, were the real monsters. I mean they’re crazy enough to actually believe they were nurses, when in reality my sister and I were better off without them trying to help. It was already hard that they wouldn’t let us see our mother.

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​I open my eyes and sit up from my bed. Holy heck, I gotta pee. Walking to my door, I realize how cold my floor is, and wonder why I never put socks on or bothered to even put pants on. Whatever though, this white shirt is plenty long enough and covers almost all the way down to my knees. I reach for the door handle and turn. Nothing.

Locked? Why is your bedroom locked? Seems your mother doesn’t trust you after all.

“Shut up,” I whisper as I twist and pull. Eventually I start pounding on the door, hearing nothing but my own breath and Her slow little giggles.

Oh goodness, wow yes. This is truly a classic, darling look around. I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

​I slowly turn and glance around, noting the smallness of the room, one little glazed over window, and a small no good bed. I put my hands over my mouth and immediately She forces me to cry out, more like a scream really. How did I get back here? I look around more and see the little red light blinking at the top of the camera in the corner of the room, watching my every move. I back up into the wall on the opposite side of the room and immediately slide onto the ground, placing my head between my knees. The sounds coming from me are uncontrollable; tears pouring, topped of with violent inhales and exhales. I can’t think, it seems the only thing that cloud our thoughts are Her comments, and even those were muffled and hard to tune into.

Your head hurts doesn’t it? This is too much for you to take in all at once. Alleviate the pain darling, maybe you’ll get lucky and cause a rupture in your brain.

​Although She sometimes laughed at my pain, this time She had a very good idea. An idea that almost seemed like She was giving me the “okay”, like my time had finally come. Those words set off a sudden impulse, and not only were my tears and cries uncontrollable, my body was entirely overcome. I began beating and hammering my fists and palms repeatedly into the side of my head. I screamed and kicked until I turned to face the wall; thrashing about and throwing myself, particularly my head, into the wall.

​It didn’t take long really til blood was streaming down my face, the sweet and salty taste seeping between my lips and teeth. Her voice was so loud, encouraging and reassuring that I looked better than I ever had before.

Red paints on you so nicely. Your mother loves red, doesn’t she? Speaking of, I hope she lives forever. Dying would be too good for an awful back stabber like her.

I took a break, and laid down with my hands over my face. I do wonder why she put me in here, I thought she loved me.

Wait shh. They’re coming for you. No time to take a break, they’ll try to stop the pain. Continue darling, this time a little more force.

​Standing up, I grasped the wall, feeling quite faint. It was riveting. I knew I was so close, She told me just a few more smacks and i’d be gone.

Go, quickly now. I hear them.

​I could hear Her loud and clear, but somehow my body was not moving. I just stood there like an idiot staring at the marvelous nothing on the wall. My eye caught a few drops of blood racing down from the bashes of where I was previously sitting. I continued becoming weaker and weaker until I dropped to the floor and finally heard the door handle click and turned to see nurses pile in.

Do it now! God why? We both are so close to becoming free!

​One nurse stood near the door, gripping a mask and a needle filled with some sedation liquid, while the others inched closer to me. I couldn’t do it, my body was giving up. And She was furious. She yelled and screamed at me, and as I sat there, I noticed those same screams came out of my own body as well. It was like She was controlling my voice, because everything She was saying poured from my mouth. They looked at me like I was insane. I hate that look.

​I gained enough strength to kick at them, and when they moved back far enough, I tried to climb to my feet. All I could build up to was my hands and knees, and from there I just began wildly crawling. I whipped my head around and She and I laughed at the look of terror in their faces as they continued stepping back into the very corners of the room. The nurse at the door was now in the corner with the others, so I kicked my legs back and swung my head around til I was almost out the door. That was my first mistake, because I never looked back, and if I would have, the nurse with the needle would never have stabbed into me and her weird gas mask would not have put me instantly to sleep.

___________________________________________________________________________

​I hated that I couldn’t stay awake. Every time I opened my eyes I could hear my mother whimpering and sniffling, but I couldn’t see her anywhere in the room. I was strapped down, which didn’t matter much because my arms and legs felt heavy and stiff. I couldn’t turn my head much, partially because I would blink and instantly fall back to sleep, and partially because my head and neck throbbed endlessly. I want to die, I don’t deserve this.

​I now was awake again, and my mother was whispering to me “why, why?” over and over and all I could do was listen.

Don’t be sad because of what I’ve done, cry because of why I am doing it. I have always been like this, so mad and angry with the world and lack of happiness and love. It just takes a little action to make people notice. You know what they say, people only care and wonder after you’re a goner. Which is exactly what I’m trying to do. Maybe people will actually see that I am right, that only Happiness can make you truly feel joy.

​All these things I want to yell towards my mother, but I can’t see her, and I also can’t even open my mouth. I am just too tired to do anything, and apparently so is She. She hasn’t spoken to me at all since I’ve been in and out of sleep. In fact, I haven’t heard or seen anyone. The only thing I hear is my mother’s pathetic sighs and fake cries of complete despair. If she really loved me, she’d be crying because I wasn’t dead and in my paradise right now. Really I should cry for her too, because she is a good woman and deserves this just as much as I do.

Two slightly middle-aged lady nurses come through the door, and I just lay there and watch. They see me staring at them and sigh towards one another, ending with a slight shoulder shrug.

“She’s not ever gonna get better is she?”

“I’m afraid not. She’s just so mentally traumatized after her mother’s incident.”

My mothers incident? Nothing my mother has done has ever traumatized me, and there they go callin me mental again. It isn’t fair, poor sick minded nurses never understand.

“That woman was just as screwed up as her daughter is now, she just pretended acted the part of ‘I’m fine really’ much more better than this young one.” She patted my hair down, oh how I wish I could bite her stupid dainty fingers off. She was the prettiest, classy lady, with her hair perfect curled and fluffed into that regular “I love my grandchildren” grandma look. The other one, hair also curled and kinked where she obviously forgot how to use a curling iron, just shook her head and fixed my ankle straps.

“I hate seeing her like this, why don’t we just let her go?” I liked kinky hair lady the most. She seemed to almost understand me.

“Don’t talk like that! Our job isn’t to just pity our patient's state of health and hope they finally leave this earth. We want to make them better, yes?”

“Well of course, but she’s been in here so long. Most get better after a few years or die of natural causes, she doesn’t deserve this.” So long? How long have I been in and out of sleep? She makes it sound like way over a year, that is not true at all.

“Eleven years is quite long, I know. But she cannot be on her own, and she hasn’t died yet. So we take care of her, understand?” Eleven years…

“I understand.”

“Now let’s go, before poor darling's brain kicks in to this reality. We don’t want to scare her.” Eleven years, this reality? What is that supposed to mean? I have not been here for eleven years, and as they leave, I see my mother in the corner of the room. She smiles.

“Oh darling, you almost made it through.”

What? Her voice sounds so familiar, yet not motherly.

“It’s that time of day, where the reality kicks in and you feel too insane to even bear it.” I stare, wondering what she is even talking about. She. That’s it, my mother sounds like She. My mother IS She. She slowly steps closer, smile stained across her awful face. “Would you like some memories along with that reality?”

I try to move, only causing little twitches in my legs and arms. She touches my face and slowly moves her hand down over my heart. “Yup, sounds pretty well and steady to me. Maybe next time you’d be a little less useless and actually be strong enough. Come join me darling. Mommas so lonely.” She laughs and puts her hands on my head. I work up enough muscle to start moving my head from side to side, hoping She’d just get away from me. The memories begin.

___________________________________________________________________________

​“Oh my sweet little darlings! Lunch is just about ready.”

My sister and I jump up from off my mother’s bed, leaving our three stuffed puppies behind. I grab at her from in front of me until I get close enough to reach her pony tail. I yank it down until she topples to the floor, kicking and screaming at me. I smile and skip faster down the hall until I reach the kitchen, I know she can’t get her revenge while we are in front of momma. I smirk at her as she sits next to me, glaring. We take little bites of our sandwiches and I reach over to steal some of her grapes.

“Don’t even think about it,” she whispers, sliding her plate closer to her. My momma worked late the night before, so she seemed a little off and tired.

“Babies, I’m going to take a bath. If any of you need anything, please please please knock before you come in.”

We nod our heads as she walks out of the kitchen and down the hall. I wait until she starts her bath, and once the water pounds its way through the pipes, I smile. My sister looks over to see me smiling in my devilish way, and immediately she glares and tells me to stop looking at her.

“If you don’t stop watching me, I’m going to tell momma.”

“Why?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Because, I don’t like it.”

“Because why?”

“Stop saying that!” She lifts her small fist into the air and pretends to swing at me, and of course I flinch. Still, I smile and giggle; making her mad is my specialty.

I stop for a bit, and take another few bites of my sandwich while also making sure to chew with my mouth wide open. It’s her favorite.

“That’s gross and momma says it’s rude.”

“So?”

“So stop before I tell on you.”

“Oh wow, I’m so scared.” I flick her on the side of her ear. That was a mistake.

​She immediately turns and pushes me off my chair, and once I fall to the floor she climbs off her own chair and straddles my body. She pins down my wrists, and as I try to fight her off, she drools her gross bread and jam mixed saliva onto my face.

​“Get off of me! You are so gross, I’m going to tell momma right now.”

​I kick my knee up into her stomach and watch her crumble to the floor, and quickly I get up and dart towards mom’s room. I lock the door behind me, knowing she won’t be able to barge in and stomp my guts out.

​“Momma? She’s being mean again, she pushed me off the chair and spit on me.” I walk towards the slightly cracked bathroom door, breathing in the warm humidity even before I opened it more. “Momma?” I look in to see the whole floor puddled with water, and water running over the bathtub rim, pouring down the closed shower curtain. I should have just left it closed.

​My mother’s beautiful face was so pale and her big green eyes were wide open, but her hands and arms were lifeless, and that’s what killed me. I scream and cry out for my sister, but she doesn’t come. I put my hands over my ears and shut my eyes tight, reopening them and just hoping for it to all be over. I couldn’t understand what was really happening, but I could feel that my momma wasn’t the same. I could hear my sister pounding on the door, she too could tell something was wrong and I could hear her worried little comments on the other side.

​“Unlock the door! What’s wrong?” I knew that I had to protect her from seeing momma like this, so I unlocked the door and told her to go get Mrs. Tammy from next door. She ran quickly down the hall and slammed the front door behind her. My head, my heart, my entire being, this is too big of a situation for me to handle. I don’t even know what to do. How do I help? Do I shut off the water and drain it so momma isn’t covered? That might help her so she doesn’t have to hold her breath for so long anymore.

____________________________________________________________________________

​I open my eyes to see the two nurses who were in before standing over me.

​“There, there Hun. You’re just having your regular daily scare.”

​“Is She here? She or your momma?” At first I was surprised they knew about She and momma, and suddenly I began to panic.

​The weird thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking how crazy this was and how insane this is all making me. I was admitting to myself that I was a psycho and needed some serious help. “Please, get Her out of me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see my momma anymore.”

“I know Hun, you never fail to let us know of this torturous experience. Your mother’s suicide is something you shouldn’t have had to deal with, and we are deeply sorry. Please know we are still doing all we can to get you better.” Kinky haired nurse smiled and injected something into my left arm, which I feel would hurt but as memories keep coming through I realize this is a daily thing. Not only does it happen on the daily, but it’s been an everyday situation for the past eleven years. I have never left this hospital.

​“How can you make me better? I am so messed up. You understand I will go to sleep eventually, and as I sleep my mind will tell me i’m awake and living the “truer” reality?”

​“We know, you tell us everyday. And we feel awful having to inform you that yes this is real and yes your mother is dead.”

​“But let’s not forget of the incident that always pops up in my awakening dreams.” They looked at me, knowing exactly what I was talking about. Because the only thing that was true in my alternate reality, was the fact that I had drowned my twin sister. “Even if I do get better. Where will I go? I will have no one.”

​“We are in contact with your father, you know that.” My father. The mysterious man who only showed his face at my sister and I’s fifth birthday. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I didn’t know what to do. It’s always so hard to focus on what’s real, but even if that man is a regular being, he will never be my father.

___________________________________________________________________________

​Night time was racing across the sky, and sleep wasn’t too far behind it. I struggled to keep my eyes open, every dream started the same way. She was trying to get me to just give up on both realities by confusing and toying around with my mind. Each time I’d move closer and closer toward that window, but something inside me delayed the process. It was knowing that the right thing to do was to keep holding on. That’s what got me to never jump. Then She’d switch my focus to real life so that’d I’d freak out when the nurses came in to keep me from bashing my face in. And now I’m here with many bandages on my face, a raging headache, but somehow a thick skull.

​I felt bad for these poor nurses who have watched over me since my mother’s death, and more intensively after my sister's drowning. I always had the minor schizophrenia, it just didn’t show until my innocent mind was traumatized. Yeah, thanks mom.

____________________________________________________________________________

Can you stop snoring? I’m trying to sleep here. She giggled.

Wait, this wasn’t right, my dreams never start out like this. And the fact that I am aware that none of it is real, something is different. I sit up, noting that they have placed me back in my regular one window, rickety bed, extra gloomy, room.

Something just ain’t right huh? Well maybe it’s because I can control all realities, darling you are mine forever. Remember?

“Get out of my head,” I whisper harshly into the cold moonlit room.

Oh wait, sounds like someone's coming to visit you.

​I listen and hear the door handle being unlocked, so I quickly shut my eyes and roll over. A small humming echoes in the room, and from that I know it’s the classy grandma nurse.

​She caresses my arm and pulls away quickly while whispering an “oh my” as she comments on how cold I am and quietly slips out the door to grab another blanket. The door is wide open.

​I sit up and climb out of bed, tip-toeing towards the door.

​I knew you hated it here. For once you’re being rational and smart, finally listening and making your way out of this wretched place.

I look down the hall to my left and to my right, and know classy grandma won’t be back for at least two or three minutes. The windows, always barred and glazed except for in the nurses lunch and break room. I knew this because classy grandma and kinky hair would come in to check on me when I wasn’t all psycho and both would smell like crisp winter air and cigarettes. They always talked about how it was the most calming room and didn’t reek of poor hygienic patients, and how they were set free by the power to actually open a window without the worry of someone jumping out of it. I reached the door and read the words,

“Break Room

Please no smoking.”

​I giggled at those words. Seemed that some nurses didn’t pay much attention to this little sign. Above the sign was a small window, and as I looked in it, I saw there was no one in the room.

​How convenient. I’m liking the sudden change of heart, whatever your plan is I like it already.

​I shake off Her words and continue into the room, and from there I pay no attention to the tables or coffee makers or mini fridge, but instead I head straight for the window. I just need a bit of fresh air.

​Darling, please share your thoughts. I’d really love to know what you are doing.

​Closing my eyes, I reach my arms out and slide the window up, which immediately blows an icy breeze onto my face. I open my mouth and breathe deeply in, holding onto that breath before my lungs scream at me to let it all go. I haven’t had a breath of fresh air for way too long. I must enjoy this moment while it lasts.

​I climb up onto the windowsill and pull my knees tightly into my chest. I burrow my face into my knees and shiver slightly as I lean a bit further out the window.

​“I’m going to do it.”

​Baby dear, look at you. Make’n momma proud. I liked where this was going the moment you walked into this room.

​I climb up to my the balls of my feet, yet still crouch down so I barely fit. I rest my hands on each side of the window and lean forward. “I’m not doing this for you.”

​What do you mean?

​“None of this is real, You are not real. Sorry but I know how to get rid of you.”

​Darling you do believe, I have spent so long teaching you to know that death is good. You can’t get rid of me.

​I hear the slight panic in Her voice, which lets me know that for once, She is wrong.

​“Yeah, we’ll see.”

__________________________________________________________________________

​As I let go, She screams at me to admit that I’m doing this for her. Her words yearn for the credit in all these eleven years of complete mental torture. But I know the truth, and there’s no way She can convince me otherwise, especially when my fall only has another two seconds til landing.

___________________________________________________________________________

​It’s funny really. Yes, I’ve always wondered if I’d hear anything interesting like bones breaking and my own screams, but to my disappointment, I heard almost nothing. Just the rushing and yelling of doctors and nurses. Some screaming not to touch me, others calling out for the help of others. And with these noises came the realization that I did not die. Part of me wanted to leap for joy, because I didn’t really want to die, and part of me was scared that it wasn’t over.

​Bytheway, the “leaping for joy” part is a lie. Because really I can’t. And because of the fall I now sit in the hospital, totally and completely quadriplegic. Can’t move my face either. That doesn’t matter much anyway. The impact caused an immeasurable amount of brain trauma, in which I cannot speak and apparently I am brain dead. Heck, I can’t even breathe on my own.

But all is fine and dandy, because even though I am pretty much dead to everyone else, my deep inner thoughts still function enough where I can comprehend just my own thoughts. And guess what?

She is not part of them. :)