Get Well Soon (19 page)
Authors: Julie Halpern
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Depression & Mental Illness, #Love & Romance
BEDTIME
Free Time tonight was stressful and disappointing. I wanted to touch Justin so badly now that I truly knew he wanted to
touch me, too, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to get him in trouble. I will be going home tomorrow, and good or bad behavior, my Level will disappear. Justin’s won’t.
touch me, too, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to get him in trouble. I will be going home tomorrow, and good or bad behavior, my Level will disappear. Justin’s won’t.
Matt O., Sandy, Justin, and I played a quiet last game of Hearts. Justin and I touched legs, but it wasn’t as sexy as it was comforting. It took a lot of effort for me not to bust out crying as we played.
Before Free Time ended, Justin slid his notebook across the table. “Write your phone number down, so I can call you if I ever get out of here.” I scribbled my phone number and tried to think of something sincere, like what I’d write on the back of a school photo, to sum up all of my feelings for him over the past three weeks. Bettina interrupted with, “Free Time’s over,” and all I could get down was my name with a small, messy heart next to it.
We trudged down the hallway to our rooms, and I envisioned a passionate kiss with Justin where he throws me against a wall and grinds up against me. That didn’t happen, of course, and a squeeze on my pinky from Justin brought me back to reality.
Sandy and I stood at our meshy window for the last night. I looked out at our getaway cars for the last time. Amazingly, there were people standing around them. It was too dark to see who they were, but I’d like to think that I saw an outline of a space helmet and the glint of a shiny silver space suit.
Whoever was there used a third car to jump the pastel cars, and soon the getaway cars were gone. So much for our escape.
But I don’t have to escape. They are making me leave. I am going home tomorrow.
I woke up before the night crew came to get Sandy and me for our showers. I walked to the window and pushed my hand on the screen. I waited long enough that a grille formed on my fingertips. New fingerprints for the new person I have become.
I had hoped that the getaway cars had been moved back to their spots in the weird hotel parking lot across the street, but the spots were empty. A van pulled under the hotel awning, dropped off a few boxes, and then pulled away.
One of my ideas for my last day was to take a really long shower, and if anyone told me to get out I’d tell them to fuck off. But I had gotten so used to showering in such a short amount of time that my rebellious plan wasn’t really necessary.
As I walked back to my room, I asked Sparkle what time I would be leaving. She told me that my parents were coming to pick me up after morning Community. That meant I’d have breakfast and Community to see Justin and my friends before I left. Maybe I would never see them again.
AFTER BREAKFAST
Breakfast was a bummer. I tried to liven it up with promises of mailing everyone cakes with nail files in them, but no one really laughed. Victor asked Justin, Matt O., and me about our
field trip. I felt my face get hot, and I looked at Justin, who was as red as I felt. Matt O. told everyone, “A good time was had by all. Very educational.” I smiled and shoved a spoonful of Cap’n Crunch in my mouth.
field trip. I felt my face get hot, and I looked at Justin, who was as red as I felt. Matt O. told everyone, “A good time was had by all. Very educational.” I smiled and shoved a spoonful of Cap’n Crunch in my mouth.
“So you’ll really write? Who knows how much longer I’ll be in here.” Justin’s dark eyes looked hopeful. I told him I would write, of course, although I wasn’t sure he’d get my letters. “Why not?” he asked.
“’Cause I haven’t gotten any mail since I’ve been here. It’s like everyone back home forgot about me.”
“Nah, that’s not why,” Matt O. explained. “Sometimes people are put on a plan where they’re not supposed to have any contact with the real world back home. Maybe you got mail, and they just didn’t give it to you.”
I was a little mad, but mostly confused. I did a lot of writing while I was here, but I never managed to send any of it away. Pencil or not, writing everything down was pretty important. Proof I was here, that I did all of this weird shit. And anyway, why would Tracy or anybody else back home want to hear about what I did in a mental hospital every day for three weeks? In turn, what good would it have done me to hear about all of the lame-o stuff that happened back home? It’s not like anything there ever changes. The question is: How am I going to fit in when I get back? It’s like I was transported to a parallel dimension while everyone else stayed in the normal world. I am a different person now. Will I ever belong anywhere as much as I did here?
THE END OF MY LAST DAY
Sandy helped me pack up my meager mental hospital belongings. We divided up the portraits; I took the ones of her, she kept the ones of me. I told her I was leaving her my juice lid collection and any newspaper pictures she wanted. I also gave her the colored pencils Mrs. Downy sent me. We thought it best to hug in our room, since we weren’t sure how soon after Community I would be leaving. I had to take deep stomach breaths to try to stop myself from crying, but I couldn’t help it. I never had a roommate before. I never had a fake pregnant friend before. Maybe I would never see her again. Sandy didn’t really cry, but maybe all of the acting she did over Morgan had drained her of any real emotion. She did make a frown face, though, to coincide with my bawling.
“Community!” a voice yelled down the hall. I quickly went into the bathroom and threw cool water on my eyes. I dried off and tried to make myself as presentable as I could. I wanted to be remembered looking juicy, not like a blubbering, drowned rat.
Down the hall in the Day Room, I sat down on a green chair. Instead of gingerly placing myself on it to avoid the embarrassing sound, I plunked myself down and enjoyed my last stint in a fart chair. Pathetically, it actually made me chuckle. Justin sat in the chair directly opposite me in our circle.
Eugene began, “Since this will be Anna’s last Community, we will start by saying our goodbyes. When I call on you, stand up and say something nice.” For those who didn’t know me well, it
was very much like a standard yearbook autograph: “Have a good year. It was nice knowing you,” and similar, impersonal statements.
was very much like a standard yearbook autograph: “Have a good year. It was nice knowing you,” and similar, impersonal statements.
Victor was somewhat more sentimental. “Anna, I’m gonna miss having you here. You were real sweet and funny, and you always laughed at my jokes.” I smiled at Victor and realized he was probably the first black friend I’d ever really had, considering there were all of two black people in my high school.
Matt O. was next. “Anna, you are one of the best people that have ever been here. And I should know, since I’m probably going to be here for the rest of my life.” He looked down. “Anyway, I’m going to miss you. Good luck in the real world.”
“Sandy,” Eugene called.
Sandy stood up. “I’m going to really miss having you as a roommate. You have been the best friend to me here, and I don’t think I could have gotten through the last two weeks without you. I’m gonna miss sharing snacks and our getaway cars and our weird room games. I hope we can keep in touch.” Sandy teared up, which made me tear up, and she quickly sat down. Her chair farted boisterously, and everyone laughed. That stopped me from crying for the moment.
It was Justin’s turn. I don’t know why Eugene saved him for last. Maybe he knew about us and was trying to build dramatic tension, or maybe he knew Justin always said nice things and wanted to save the best for last. Or maybe he was just going in order of the seats, and I was overthinking it.
Justin stood up and smiled at me. I couldn’t see his eyes very well through the strands of his bangs, but I swore they were shinier than usual. “Anna,” he squeaked, as if he were still going through puberty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Anna, I don’t really know how to say goodbye to you. You have become a really good friend, and I feel like I have more in common with you than anyone here. I hope when you go home you won’t forget me. I hope if I ever get out of here we can go for coffee or something sometime. So, take care, and listen to The Doors for me when you get home, OK?” Everyone laughed, and he sat down.
The rest of Community was a blur of Restrictions, Appreciations, and Announcements. I didn’t really pay attention. I thought about what Justin had said. How could I forget about him? At the same time, would we ever really go out for coffee? Would he want to hang out with me when he has normal friends at home to hang out with? By that time, would I be back to my normal life? I didn’t want to think about him going to the grocery store or to a movie theater or meeting my mom. Do we belong together in the real world? It could never feel as special and intense as it did here in a mental hospital. That’s why I didn’t want to leave. My future boyfriends (god willing) won’t have to be secrets. I can see them and talk to them and touch them whenever I want. Justin is my forbidden, secret love, and he can only be that way at Lakeland. That all ends today.
At the end of Community, everyone stood up to leave. That
was the last moment I would ever have to see Justin as we were. My desperation and rebellion took over. As Justin walked past me, I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards me. His body bumped against mine, and I looked up at him. I put my hand behind his neck, stood on my toes, and pulled his lips to mine. We got in about three good open-mouthed kisses before Eugene grabbed Justin’s arm away and said, “Hey! Hey! That’s enough! That’s a Restriction for you, Justin.” Justin shrugged. As I walked down the hallway to get my stuff, I looked back at him. He lifted his right hand and gave a small wave. I turned away and saw my parents.
was the last moment I would ever have to see Justin as we were. My desperation and rebellion took over. As Justin walked past me, I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards me. His body bumped against mine, and I looked up at him. I put my hand behind his neck, stood on my toes, and pulled his lips to mine. We got in about three good open-mouthed kisses before Eugene grabbed Justin’s arm away and said, “Hey! Hey! That’s enough! That’s a Restriction for you, Justin.” Justin shrugged. As I walked down the hallway to get my stuff, I looked back at him. He lifted his right hand and gave a small wave. I turned away and saw my parents.
OUTSIDE
My mother embraced me and cried, and I gave her a limp hug back. “You look so thin, honey.”
“So glad you noticed, Mom.” Three weeks away, and my fat is the most important thing she can talk about?
My dad patted my shoulder and gave me a nervous smile. He took my bags and headed for the elevator. Before I stepped in, the desk staff said goodbye and handed me a big, puffy, brown envelope. I waited until I got in the car to see what it was.
“Where’s Mara?” I asked. I longed to see my sister, the neutral party.
“School,” my mom answered.
This wasn’t an event big enough to take Mara out of school?
My parents listened to a Cubs game during the drive home. It
seemed completely bizarre that after locking me away for three weeks my parents had nothing more to say to me than when I left. I expected nothing more from my dad, but Mom …
seemed completely bizarre that after locking me away for three weeks my parents had nothing more to say to me than when I left. I expected nothing more from my dad, but Mom …
That’s when I noticed her shoulders shaking and realized she was crying. And not just crying—she was sobbing. I didn’t know what she was feeling—guilty? Happy I was coming home? Happy I lost weight? At least she felt something. Her bawling was strangely comforting. But that didn’t mean I wanted to deal with it. No more than they wanted to deal with me anyway.
I opened the big, brown envelope. Inside were about twenty envelopes, filled with letters and cards from different friends and family members (of course about half were from Tracy). I opened the fatter ones first, as those were the letters from my friends telling me about things going on at school and how much they missed me. I skimmed them, though, because I wasn’t really that interested. Then I began to open the cards. One by one, I read them. They all said the same thing on the front: Get Well Soon. People sent me get well soon cards while I was in a mental hospital. There were fluffy little bunnies, floaty rainbows, and even a religious card. I could understand that Hallmark probably doesn’t make “Get Sane Soon” cards, but still. Was I not well before? Am I well now? Who decides?
HOME
I’m home. At least, I’m at the house I grew up in, the bedroom that was designated as mine. But it doesn’t look like my
room anymore. While I was gone, my parents changed everything. The posters are gone. The collages are gone. Even the clown border is gone. They replaced everything with placid, pink, anti-suicide paint. My mom explained, “We thought you might like a change.”
room anymore. While I was gone, my parents changed everything. The posters are gone. The collages are gone. Even the clown border is gone. They replaced everything with placid, pink, anti-suicide paint. My mom explained, “We thought you might like a change.”
“And you thought
destroying my bedroom
would make me feel better?” I looked around for my posters, and found them in a pile on the floor in the corner, the blue Fun-Tac sticking each poster to the other like a giant punk poster sandwich. “My posters! Some of them are really rare! I can’t believe you let them stick together!”
destroying my bedroom
would make me feel better?” I looked around for my posters, and found them in a pile on the floor in the corner, the blue Fun-Tac sticking each poster to the other like a giant punk poster sandwich. “My posters! Some of them are really rare! I can’t believe you let them stick together!”
I ran over and began carefully peeling the posters apart. “This one’s ripped! It was my favorite.”
I fumed on the floor, and I began to notice something new: I wasn’t crying. I was angry. Crying used to be my first reaction to anything and everything that upset me, and here I was, super-pissed.
I stood up. “You can’t just do things to me and think I’m going to be OK with it!” I yelled.
“We thought you might like it,” my mother answered meekly.
“Then you don’t know me at all!” I picked up my alarm clock from my nightstand and threw it straight down on the floor. The face cracked off, and a few plastic pieces rolled around.
My mom stared at me, shocked.
I
was shocked. I had never done anything like that in my life. I never would have thought to.
I
was shocked. I had never done anything like that in my life. I never would have thought to.
I looked down at the broken alarm clock. “Shit,” I said. I knelt
to pick up the pieces. Perhaps I went a little overboard in “expressing my feelings.”
to pick up the pieces. Perhaps I went a little overboard in “expressing my feelings.”
My mom relaxed, probably glad to see I hadn’t turned into a complete psycho, and said, “I’m heading to the store. I can pick you up a new alarm clock. Do you need anything else?” She smiled at me. Amazing. I’d been home for ten minutes, and already she wanted to get away from me. Whatever. We both needed some time.
I thought about what else I
needed
, all of those things I wanted at Lake Shit but I couldn’t have.
needed
, all of those things I wanted at Lake Shit but I couldn’t have.
“Cap’n Crunch, please.”
“Cap’n Crunch,” she said, with the slightest hesitation. Her eyes got shiny, and I could tell she wanted to say something dramatic about how happy she was to have me home. It would have been a perfect moment for an Appreciation, if we had those in real life:
Mom, I appreciate that you care about me, even though you’re not very good at showing it
.
Mom, I appreciate that you care about me, even though you’re not very good at showing it
.
As she left, the phone rang. My dad picked up downstairs and a second later called, “Anna—Tracy’s on the phone.”
“Can you tell her I’ll call her back in a few minutes?” I yelled down. I couldn’t wait to talk to her, to really tell her everything that happened, but I needed a few minutes in my room.
I walked over to my stereo and turned the dial to a classic rock station. Like magic, a Doors song filled the air. Closing my eyes, I imagined sitting in the Day Room with Justin and all of my new
friends. Friends who I would probably never see again, but could never forget. I opened my eyes to pink walls. Gag. The first thing Tracy and I would do together is paint away the pink and put my posters back up. But for now, I lay down on top of my new bedspread, and looked forward to my life.
friends. Friends who I would probably never see again, but could never forget. I opened my eyes to pink walls. Gag. The first thing Tracy and I would do together is paint away the pink and put my posters back up. But for now, I lay down on top of my new bedspread, and looked forward to my life.
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