Loving Madness

4. Into the Thick of It

Anarchist- Yungblud

Over the next several weeks, Dr. Sampson continues to try to reach me. But I have to give credit where credit is due, she tried hard. Bribes with food and games, even a journal at some point. Only with a felt tip pencil, of course.

But I'm too far gone. My mind might as well have been on Mars. I was stardust. Tripping on cosmic waves even I didn't understand. There was no reaching me. I heard the words she spoke, but I didn't have the energy to answer or respond in any type of way. I slowly let my mind build walls around every core of my being. Making an impenetrable barrier between myself and every other being on this earth. No one will ever see me, the real me, again. It's tragic really.

They brought me food, that constantly lay untouched beside me. Some remnant of my mind and a primal part of my stomach registered the smells of sustenance, but the will and strength to continue is gone. My stomach snarled and growled at me, but it was easy enough to ignore. They brought me ice cream and cakes and candy, but none of it piqued the beast's interest. I catered to his whims now. I was nothing but a slave to his desires and as far as he was concerned, we were better off dead. Out of all of his thoughts, I could agree with that one the easiest.

After about the first week, it could have been sooner or later, they began to do as the hospital did, sedating me to force-feed me. I didn't fight them. I was too tired. I had no fight left. I feel the needle digging into my skin as they take the only decision I would like to make away. The pain of the needle was only a brutal reminder of the little bit of life that was left inside of me. The force feeds made my head stop spinning as fast and made the ache in my stomach fade a bit, but it really made no difference. The beast was set on dying and I had no issue with it. He was running the show and I was a mere passerby in his play.

The only company I had was the beast, and he seemed to be growing stronger and stronger inside me. He said wonderfully awful things to me all the time. Wouldn't it be lovely to see blood dripping down that nurse's neck? Can you imagine how it would feel to be tearing flesh with your teeth? I just let him speak, what difference does it make?

We also played games and talked. It was almost as if there was an inner world he had created within my mind. A sort of mind palace where he and I could congregate. It isn't all bad. He rewards me for not fighting him, for submitting. We played Candyland. Although, I'm starting to think it isn't the original. Rivers of blood and bridges of bones just don't seem right. But then again, who knows? I sure as hell don't.

We have conversations, deep ones too. Why are we even here? He says to give back what is given and I laugh and say 'How biblical of you!' It's not healthy and we both know it. But he keeps the worst of the loneliness at bay and I'd like to think that I do that for him as well. I don't think he's bad, just misunderstood. He and I seem to be one in the same, broken, but not bad.

It was as though he knew I was down for the count. He knew I was done fighting. He reveled in it. He began to put wonderfully dark ideas into my mind and much to my surprise, they didn't disgust me. I was slowly beginning to see his point of view. His thoughts became mine and grew evermore tempting as the nonexistent time passed.

Why should I care?

What was the point of going on and living this miserable existence?

How much longer would I roam the earth as nothing more than rotting flesh?

I slowly began to realize that the beast is me. Just the dark part that I kept locked neatly away in a box. He just found the crack. This evil inside of me felt ancient like it had been waiting since the dawn of time to be released. But I wasn't ready to admit that yet, so we are just going to keep pretending someone else is in here with me.

Eventually, Dr. Sampson discontinues her visits. I noticed she seemed unwell. Could that be all because of little old me? Surely not. Well, not completely but close enough. Her words still reach me sometimes and most of the time the words make sense. My gut tells me not to trust her, but even if I did, it wouldn't make much of a difference, seeing as I wasn't interested in speaking to anyone. Other times, I stare into her face, and not a word coming out of her mouth is translated to English. Maybe the beast is playing with me. Changing the way I hear things as a prank. It does keep things interesting.

One day the good doctor says something that finally catches my attention, long enough for me to look in her direction. Even the snarling beast inside seems to do a double take.

"We have another resident here whose family also died in a car crash. He was the sole survivor as well. What would you think about meeting him? Maybe he can help you better than I can." Her voice cracks several times during the last sentence. For the first time in weeks, I look at the doctor. Really look at her. She looked beat. Dark circles seemed to make a permanent home under her eyes and her hair was thrown into a messy, defeated bun. She really didn't know where to go from here. Well, I guess we were in the same boat. The beast had weakened my resolve, yet it was just as lonely as I was.

Isn't it convenient that there is another patient here who has gone through the same exact shit we have?

The beast snarls in my head, still very much invested in what the doctor had to say.

"I... I don't know." My voice. That was my voice. It was beaten, just like me. It had no life, monotone. Just like everything surrounding me.

Suddenly, I had the urge to be anywhere but here. Here in this life-sucking room. My fight or flight response had kicked in and both were racing to the surface and both might win.

Keep your crazy shit under wraps, it's not going to get us out of this damn room. Fake it till you make it.

And that one comment marked a momentous occasion because that was perhaps the first useful piece of advice the beast had given me. Quite honestly, my game plan had been to throw a fit until they caved.

While I'm having this internal dialogue, the doctor sits with a shocked look on her face. She is somehow stunned that the way to get me to respond to her was to let me out of my fucking room. Shocker.

"What don't you know about it, Mayslee? It has obviously piqued your interest, at least enough for you to respond to me," she says this with a fierce determination, to keep this conversation going. I like her, I realize suddenly. Not as a doctor, but as the fiery, determined individual she clearly was. I've never trusted myself and I used to like myself.

I felt myself shutting down again until the beast lit a fire under my ass.

Don't you dare shut down right now. Do you realize how fucking close we are to reaching the other side of that door? Please Mayslee. Just play along.

The beast inside of me was restless and I was feeling the same way.

"I want out of this room," I say this slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. To seem as though I don't plan on releasing chaos as soon as I have earned their trust. The beast purrs in my direction, egging me on to calm and cool waters, salivating at the opportunity to be released.