Broken Butterflies (36 page)

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Authors: Shadow Stephens

BOOK: Broken Butterflies
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Zoe twisted her body around and placed her cuffed hands on the door handle trying to pull it, but the handle slipped out of her hand. The handsome man beside her pulled her across the seat easily, and the look on his face told her to stay put or the consequences would be worse than what she already faced. Zoe knew when to pick her battles, and this was not one of them. If she managed to get out of the car, she knew the black suits would quickly catch her.

She cowered at the sight of the enormous stone structure that looked like a Gothic castle. The building stretched so far in either direction she couldn’t see where it ended. She thought of asking the suits why she was being taken to the state mental hospital, but thought better of it.
They won’t answer me anyway—do they even talk?
The front doors, constructed of thick wood, screeched open across the tile floor as they reached the threshold.

Waiting just inside the doors were two other people. One, obviously a nurse, the other dressed in a cream colored suit His gray hair clung to his head in a bad comb-over, and his mustache came down to points at the bottom of his upper lip, then curled back up to complete his nineteen thirties carnival look.

“We can handle young Zoe from here, boys. Thank you,” he said, smiling. His voice didn’t match his appearance. He spoke as though he had smoked one too many cigarettes.

Zoe stood in silence, waiting for them to introduce themselves and tell her what she was doing here. “Zoe, I’m Dr. Lancaster, and this is Head Nurse Watkins,” he said, gesturing to himself then to the nurse.

“I’d say nice to meet you, but that would be a lie.” Zoe smiled defiantly.

The doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably. He even went to the extent of rubbing his throat as if some kind of irritation flared up. “That’s a little unnecessary, my dear,” he said looking in Zoe’s eyes.

What on earth is he talking about?

“Well now, let’s get off on a better foot. Welcome to Weston State Hospital. We take great pride in being a leader in top of the line care.” The doctor gestured with his hand.

“Am I missing something or are we on The Price Is Right? You don’t make a very good Barker’s girl. You’re a bit on the ugly side for that job.” Zoe stared the doctor down.

The doctor asked the nurse to remove Zoe’s handcuffs.

Being rather portly and having too much facial hair, Zoe decided to call the nurse Battle-Axe. She wondered what the doctor’s motivations were. Did he do this out of the kindness of his heart? She hadn’t realized how tight the cuffs were until they were gone. She rubbed the discomfort out of her wrists.

“You must be hungry,” the doctor said in an overly cheerful voice. “Nurse Watkins will take you to the showers then you can come down for a bite to eat.”

Zoe couldn’t figure out why this guy insisted on talking to her like a guest at a party. She also knew what happened when you showered at a mental hospital.

“Come with me,” the nurse said in a gruff voice, as the doctor walked away.

“No, I’m twenty-five and I know my rights. You’ll tell me why I’m here. You can’t hold me without my consent. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” Zoe said in a stern voice.

“All your questions will be answered, but not by me. Now you can come along quietly, or I can force you.”

Zoe had no intention of being drugged in this strange place. Sitting like a zombie with drool running out her mouth in a wicker chair wasn’t an option. As they made their way up the large center staircase, she could hear screaming coming from the halls above. Under different circumstances, the building would be quite beautiful, but considering why she was here it had a very dark atmosphere.

At the top of the stairs they turned right. As soon as they rounded the corner, Zoe tripped over a tiny girl who was talking to herself and having quite the conversation. Zoe rolled her eyes and kept walking.

Once inside the shower room, Zoe was asked to remove her clothing and the pockets were searched. The nurse confiscated Zoe’s cell phone, which was the only thing she had with her. Next, she was asked to open her mouth. Battle-Axe made sure that nothing was stashed there like weapons or drugs. After the inspection, the nurse handed her a small bottle of shampoo and a tiny bar of soap. There was no shower curtain and Battle-Axe watched as Zoe showered quickly as possible. The shampoo made her hair feel as dry as a bale of straw. When she asked for conditioner the nurse snorted like she thought it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

Zoe put on the standard set of puke green scrubs assuming this was the uniform every patient wore. She rubbed on the generic deodorant and rolled her eyes at the cheap comb she was given. As she worked the comb through her hair it broke, and she cursed under her breath.

“Can I get another one?” she asked the nurse as she held up the broken pieces.

Once again the nurse snorted, but she did give Zoe a new comb. This time Zoe took her time. She could never get a brush through her hair without conditioner. Not exactly a five star hotel. She slipped on the stupid socks with sticky rubber on the bottom and waited to be taken to eat.

What’s next, a dungeon with maggot infested food?

Instead of heading right to the cafeteria, the nurse escorted her to an x-ray room. Zoe was instructed to lay on the table and be still.

“What the hell is this for?” she asked.

“Well, I could search you myself or you could shut it and get an x-ray of your pelvis. What’s it going to be?” the nurse asked gruffly.

“I’ll just stick with the x-ray, thanks. I know I’m letting you down by not letting you fondle me, but you’ll have to get over it.” Zoe gave the nurse a disgusted look.

Battle-Axe gave her usual grunt and walked behind the wall.

The nurse led Zoe back past the little blond girl who still held a private conversation with herself. Her voice was small,
and she spoke as though she sat with her best friend. Her long blond mane of hair brushed the floor as she sat Indian style taking no notice of Zoe or the nurse.

They walked down long, dark corridors and reached the cafeteria. To her surprise the nurse asked the cook to make whatever Zoe wanted to eat. That caught her so off guard that she grabbed an apple and a soda instead. She sat down at one of the round tables. Her eyes darted here and there taking in her new home. There was no escape; she might be here for life. She blew out a large breath at that thought
.

Makeup and conditioner passed through her mind while a guy walked in from the room adjacent to the kitchen. Wearing normal clothes, he didn’t look like a staff member. She looked down at the table and let her wet hair fall across her face.

“So you found another one of us to torment,” he said to the nurse, chuckling.

“You mind your own business,” the nurse replied curtly.

Zoe guessed he must be a patient but refused to look up. Being in no state to let men see her, she tried not to hold his attention, and if he was a patient, she didn’t want to know him anyway. Despite her fears,
she had a hard time not watching him. Zoe always had a thing for tall, dark and handsome. This guy’s hair was jet black like hers. He wore it cut short, but messy, and had blue eyes that resembled a deep sapphire. They were eyes you could melt into. From the protection of her wet hair, Zoe watched him leave.

I guess crazy people can be hot.

She finished her apple and soda before she followed the nurse again. It was time to see where her cell would be. Once again, she walked down long, dark corridors and couldn’t help but wonder if they had trouble paying the electric bills. They stopped at room 222. The nurse unlocked the door with a key that resembled a credit card.

“We’ll send for your things from home tomorrow,” said the nurse as she shut the door. Zoe started to speak, but before her mouth could form a word she heard the heavy footsteps going down the hall.

“Thanks for listening,” she said aloud.

Zoe jiggled the handle to confirm the door was locked. She beat on it screaming, “You can’t keep me locked in here!”

The room had no decor. There was a single bed with a blanket that looked more like a back scratcher than something comfy to curl up in. The single feather filled pillow resembled a porcupine. A dresser sat against the wall next to a small closet.

At least I don’t have to share a room with the crazy little blond girl
. Zoe shivered at the thought.

The bathroom was small enough to fit into a RV, but at least she had her own shower. Zoe was irritated she was forced to shower in front of Battle-Axe when she had a private facility. She assumed they wanted to insure she didn’t have anything that could be used as a weapon, but it was still degrading.

Zoe sat on the bed and it squeaked. Pushing her one pillow against the headboard, she tried to relax, but curled her legs to her chest when stress relief wasn’t in sight. Holding back all her fear until she was alone, she began to cry. There was nothing to keep her mind off of things; she didn’t even have a book to read.
How could things come to this?
I’m locked up in the loony bin, and for what, I didn’t do anything. I was on the other side of the street for crap sake
. Her mind wandered to the incident that had caused her to be here in the first place.

Mrs. Conrad ran from the house screaming and from the look of her bruised and cut face, she had endured another beating. Anytime there was chaos in that house the town could hear Mrs. Conrad pleading over and over for him to stop, of course he didn’t—he never did. Zoe didn’t need to be psychic to know what happened in that house; everyone in the neighborhood knew about Mr. Conrad. Tonight the noise inside the house resembled a tornado ripping everything apart. The instant Judy Conrad ran from the house, her husband took to smashing all their belongings. Judy ran out the front door pleading for Zoe to help her. The next second, flames engulfed the house, and Mr. Conrad was trapped inside.

Problem solved. Mrs. Conrad could have been a little more grateful and not used me as a scapegoat,
Zoe thought
.

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