Her (12 page)

“So, you’re one of Dr. Cuvo’s patients?” she started again.

Looking back at her, I nodded and yawned.

Janine then yawned too. Her eyes welled with tears.

“Me too,” she told me.

I yawned loudly and rolled over so that the yawn wouldn’t affect me if she yawned again too. Sure enough, she yawned again. I heard her yawn as soon as my back was facing her.

“Time for night-time groups! Come on, girls!” Ms. Mosley burst through the door. “Up! Up! Up!”

CHAPTER 11

“Meds!” yelled the nurse from the counter.

“Kristen. You have nighttime medication. Come on.” Geoffrey was one of the counselors at Bent Creek. He was kind of tall and chubby, and he seemed like one of the nicest counselors here.

Ms. Mosley put on her coat and gathered up her personal belongings. She put an unlit cigarette in her mouth, waved goodbye to everyone, and she was gone. Daniel licked his lips. I heard him whimper like a puppy when he saw that cigarette. He slammed his head into his hands.

Tai gasped at the sight of the cigarette.

“I want a cigarette,” she whined. “I hate it when she does that. It’s like she’s trying to torture us.”

Chris laughed at her.

“Shut up,” she fussed.

We all went to stand in the long line for night medication. I hadn’t expected to start the medication so soon. Daniel stood in front of me. His long, black hair draped down his shoulders, and his soft skin looked moist. He smelled good, like a cool breeze and scented soap. I began to realize that I hadn’t bathed since I had left the main hospital.

“Next!” The nurse said. Daniel stepped up. “Hello,” the nurse greeted him. “Zoloft.” She handed Daniel a small cup that contained a pill. Daniel washed the pill down with a cup of water.

“Open up,” the nurse demanded.

Daniel opened his mouth and wiggled his tongue around so that she could see that he had swallowed his medicine. When she said that he was okay, Daniel said good night to her and moved out of the line. I felt awkward stepping up to the counter.

“Last name?” the nurse asked me.

“Elliott,” I told her.

She stepped back and went to a cabinet that held all of our medications. She read about four labels before she pulled out a red bottle.

“Here we are. Risperdol for Kristen Elliott, 0.5 milligrams. Wash it down with some water.” She pushed the little medicine cup towards me with a cup of water.

I hesitated.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“How long does this medicine take to actually work?”

“It usually takes a few weeks, even a month, before you start to feel it working. However, some side effects may start right away. I don’t know. It’s different with many people. If you start to get any serious side effects like shakiness, stomachache, or a bad headache, then you make sure you tell whatever nurse is on duty and your doctor. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

“Now take your medicine.”

I put the cup to my lips and I let the pill fall into my mouth. I quickly grabbed the cup of water and washed the pill down. I tried not to gag.

“Now, you should rest,” said the nurse, as she took the empty cup away from me. “Lift your tongue.”

I opened my mouth and lifted my tongue the way I had seen Daniel do it. When she said that I was free to go, I started to ask her if she was the nurse who could help me clean up. However, she grabbed her coat and purse. I could tell that she was eager to leave. So I left it alone and headed toward my room. When I got inside, I didn’t see Janine. I felt strange inside that cold room.  The light was on, it was nighttime, and I was alone. It was not starting to feel like home. The walls were white in here. In fact, everything was white. My bedroom at home was the absolute opposite. I had painted my room black when I had turned sixteen. It was still black now. Everything in my room was black. From the walls to the bed sheets and pillows. It was all black.

I started to smell myself. I knew that was bad. I looked down at my heavily-bandaged wrists. I wouldn’t have dared to unwrap my bandages, and have to look at them. Mr. Sharp’s face appeared.

“Stop it,” I whispered.

I couldn’t bathe without having to unwrap the bandages, but then I’d have to get my stitches wet if I tried to wash myself, because I needed to use my hands to wash, and that would wet my wrists. I figured I could at least get some soap under my arms and pat a slightly damp towel under them.

I opened the bathroom door. Janine was on her knees over the toilet. Her dinner was coming out of her mouth, and it spilled into the toilet like water shooting out of a fire hose. She looked up at me as soon as I felt myself gag. Whatever came up in my throat tasted disgusting going back down. I backed away as she flushed the toilet and ran to the sink. I let the bathroom door swing shut when I backed out. I walked over to my bed. I could hear the water running in the bathroom. Janine came out of the bathroom and stood in front of me. She smelled strongly of vomit.

“Are you okay, Kristen?” she asked me.

I nodded at her dubiously.

“Please don’t tell Ms. Mosley,” she pleaded. “Please, Kristen.”

“Sure, okay,” I told her. “I won’t tell.”

“Thanks,” she said in relief. A smile appeared on her face. I could see the worry melt away. She tossed herself onto her bed.

I got up and grabbed a pair of underwear and a set of pajamas out of my suitcase. Then I walked into the bathroom. I tried to wash under my arms and other parts of my body as carefully as I could. I cleaned my face by sticking it under the faucet. I couldn’t use the shower because it would’ve ruined my stitches. I looked up above the sink, and I saw that there was a mirror, but it wasn’t a real mirror. It was like a rubbery flat surface that flashed a reflection, but the reflection was distorted. My nose was on my forehead. My eyes were where my cheeks were supposed to be. There was no mouth. It didn’t make a difference to me. It was like looking at myself through a real mirror.

A frame sat on my bedroom armoire at home. The frame had once held a mirror. I used to look into that mirror and resent the reflection that stared back at me. I remembered the last time I had seen that mirror. I’d been trying to put on some make-up the way I had seen Lexus do it. I’d had to hurry up and get dressed. Lexus and her parents were coming over to pick me up to hang out at their place for the weekend. I just couldn’t get the make-up right. Every time I had put lipstick on, it had caked up on my teeth and it had dried out and cracked my lips. When I had tried to apply eyeliner, I’d almost poked myself in the eye, and it had smeared all over my eyelids. I couldn’t make it look right no matter how much make-up I kept putting on to try to cover the bumps and scars. My face would not change, but I’d kept trying to paint it.

Whenever Lexus looked into the mirror, a beautiful image appeared. After she put make-up on, the almost impossible happened. Lexus’ beauty was enhanced, and it made her more beautiful than before.

It hadn’t worked for me. Angrily, I’d thrown the eyeliner to the floor and smashed the lipstick down on the dresser with my hand. The lipstick had squished red between my fingers and in my palm as I’d punched it repeatedly. I’d looked up at my disgusting face and had seen every pimple and every dark spot that sickened me. I’d raised my lipstick-smeared hands and had bashed them into the reflection of my face. The mirror had cracked. The blow had created a hole in the center, around where shards had shot out like fireworks. It had almost looked beautiful. It had looked better than before. This had made me angry.

My face had been completely distorted. I could still see the ugliness, and I’d wanted to get rid of it. Lexus would have never had to break a mirror just to make herself look more beautiful. No! I
never
wanted look into that mirror again!

Not caring about the blood and the pain that had made my already messed up hand throb, I had pounded into the mirror fiercely until the shards had begun to completely break away and fall apart. I had screamed in frustration as the blood and the lipstick had coalesced and run down my fingers to my arms and dripped onto the floor.

I looked around the unfamiliar bathroom that I now shared with Janine. I sighed heavily.

“Breathe, Kristen… you have to breathe.” Mr. Sharp spoke aloud in my ears.

I picked up my blue jeans from where I had tossed them on the floor. I kicked my dirty underwear out of the way and I angrily tried to tear my jeans apart.

My sterling silver butterfly pendant fell out of the pocket of my jeans. I stared in amazement. Mr. Sharp had come to my rescue! I picked up the pendant and pressed the sharp wing to my skin right above my knee.

“If you bleed, you will be able to breathe,” Mr. Sharp said. 

I dragged the wing across my leg and made a scrape. I didn’t cut deep enough to bleed. I couldn’t do it. For some reason, I couldn’t stand the pain when I tried to press deeper. I stopped and looked around the bathroom. It was as if that moment was when I realized where I was for the first time. I shoved the butterfly pendant back into my pocket. I felt hurried to put on my pajamas in case someone came in to check on Janine or me. They couldn’t find the pendant. They would take Mr. Sharp away from me.

After I picked up all of my things in the bathroom and was in a change of underwear and in my pajamas, I made my way back to the bedroom. I felt warmth come over me, and it was heavy and quick. My eyes felt like they were carrying weights. I lay down and, before I could count to ten, I was asleep.

CHAPTER 12

Ms. Mosley busted into the room early in the morning. She was loud, and it made my head pound harder than it already was from the Risperdol. When Ms. Mosley stormed in, Janine was in the bathroom.

“Wake up!” Ms. Mosley shouted. I opened my eyes, and she was standing beside my bed, looking down at me with her hands on her hips.

“Did you get cleaned up last night?” she asked me. She seemed concerned.

“I tried to, but my stitches…” I began.

“There is a nurse that’s supposed to come and draw blood from you. She said she’d be here yesterday, but that didn’t happen. I’ll call over and make sure she comes today. She should help you get cleaned up without messing up your stitches. For now, get up and try to get yourself together for vitals check and breakfast.”

She started to leave, but as she passed the bathroom, she realized that Janine was in there. Without knocking, she opened the door and caught Janine sitting on the toilet using the bathroom.

Janine screamed at her, “Do you mind? I am using the bathroom! Shut the door!”

Ms. Mosley shut the door quickly. She looked angry and embarrassed.

“I was just making sure, Janine!” Ms. Mosley said as she hurried out of our room.

Janine came out of the bathroom, furious.

“I wish this stupid place had locks on the doors! That wench has no right!” Janine screamed.

I lay there in bed, not wanting to get up. I had to change into my day clothes, and I needed to put deodorant on. I still smelled dirt on myself. I felt sick. I didn’t want to face the day. I didn’t want to hear Janine. I just wanted to sleep.

“There has got to be some kind of law against that,” Janine continued as she tossed her clothes on.

I started to fall asleep again until Janine yelled that I’d better get up before Ms. Mosley came back and yanked me out of bed like she had done to her before.  I pushed myself out of the bed so fast without thinking or taking my time. The world began to spin. I lost my balance and stumbled back into the nightstand. I almost knocked the lamp over, but Janine rushed to my side and caught it. She reached out to me and helped me stand up.

“Kristen, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m a little tired,” I told her.

“Be careful,” she warned.

After I got dressed, Janine helped me into the front room. Everyone was sitting around, and some people were waiting to get their vitals checked. Daniel was in the chair, getting his vitals checked by Geoffrey. Janine and I stood in line to wait our turn. Daniel was smiling and talking to Geoffrey.

“Today I have a family session,” Daniel told Geoffrey.

“That’s good,” Geoffrey said. “You think you are ready?”

“Yep, I have been doing pretty well. I want to see my mom. And if it goes well, I might get to go home.”

Daniel sounded sure about his family session. He was being open. He sounded like he was sure he’d be well enough to go home. I wondered if that was how I had to be. If I had to be open and sure. If I had to share everything that was inside of me. If I had to sit, face-to–face, with my mother and tell her what she wanted to hear.