Counting

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In which she reflects...




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One...two...three...four...five... I count in my head the number of days that I'd been here, staring at the tiled wall in front of me. When I reach ten, I restart. Ten days, I'd been here for ten days. I close my eyes and think back to the day I was dragged here, kicking and screaming, by men dressed in white scrubs....

I lie there in my bed, I'd been kept overnight in the hospital for observation after my failed attempt at my life. I turn over onto my side when I hear my bedroom door open, my mom walks in, a look of guilt on her face as she approaches me.

"Hey Honey, how are you feeling?" she asks, I look at her, glancing over her shoulder when I hear something from the doorway. Three men are standing there, waiting for my mother's permission to enter.

"Mom...what are you doing?" I ask, slowly pushing myself up into a sitting position, my mom stands up, trying to put her hand on my shoulder to stop me from fighting back, I scoot backward in my bed, flattening myself against the window to get as far away from her as possible, the men slowly enter the room. I pay them no mind as I look up at my mother, begging her with my eyes not to do this.

"You're throwing me away, aren't you? Like you did with Polly. You're getting rid of me, like a fucking broken toy." I tell her, tears welling in my eyes as I stare at her, the men grab my feet and begin to yank me from the bed, dragging me onto the floor.

"Careful, she's pregnant." My mom tells them, they're only slightly gentler. Mom had somehow managed to find out from when I was in the hospital, unconscious. Luckily, she didn't know whose it was.

"Mom, please...don't let them take me!" I yell as they hoist me up, two having my hands and one on my feet, I begin to thrash, not wanting to be taken away. "Momma, please!"

They take me down the stairs, the men holding my hands almost falling halfway down the steps when I thrash with slightly more strength. I'm carried out the front door and to a large white van, the last thing I see before I'm thrown into the back of it is my mother's tear-streaked face as she tells me it's for my own good.

I feel a couple of tears leak out of my eyes when I think about how my mother had treated me, I couldn't believe she'd do something like this. I'd always tried to be there to help her, to love her. And the second something goes wrong, she tosses me in the trash like an empty soda can. I wasn't sure what to do, other than not take the drugs they gave us, I've been working on a plan to try and get myself out of here, but I wasn't sure if it would work, and I didn't have a leash long enough to do the surveillance that would be required to complete the plan. Unless I was in my bedroom, I had a nun tailing me everywhere, there was no way that I could do it alone.

But who would help me? I never got any visitors, even my mother hadn't bothered to come see me. I was doomed, there was no way for me to escape this nightmare...

One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten...eleven...twelve. One...two...two more days had passed, I lay in the same position as usual, staring at the wall, counting each of the tiles in the old wall. I don't think about FP and how he broke my heart, I don't think about my mother and how she betrayed me, I don't think about the fact that my sleuth of a sister probably hasn't even thought about coming to look for me. I don't think about anything...




I count slowly to fourteen and back again as I sit in my cell, numbering the bars in front of me. it had been fourteen days since I'd broken her heart since I'd told her I never loved her. Every time that Jughead comes in, every time that I ask him about her, he doesn't tell me anything. He changes the subject; did something happen to her?

I reach another fourteen before I hear a noise, a guard is walking down the hallway toward my cell, keys jingling. He calls out to me before he reaches my cell.

"Hands behind your head Jones. Turn and face the back wall of your cell." I do as I'm told, standing from the floor and turning around, placing my hands behind my head and waiting, I hear the keys clank and jingle, and then my cell door creaks open. The guard pats me down and turns me to face him, cuffing my hands in front of me.

"You have a visitor,"

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