His Wet Nurse

Words that break my heart (51)

She was left alone most of the time, to wander in her thoughts, staring distantly at inanimate objects in her room or how the other patients struggled through their daily routine.
Her ward held less violent patients while the much more triggered patients were demarcated from them by a wall. Sometimes she heard their screams, the commotion with the nurses and when shifts were done by the weekend, the look of relief from the new nurses who'd been shuffled back to the less chaotic ward was all but enough to show how terrifying the center was.

But Jema slept most of the time, maybe an after-effect of the antipsychotic medication they were pumping into her body or was it a mechanism her mind was using to shut out everything? She couldn't decide which, but she knew the drugs kept her calm, and slower than normal but she didn't mind. Except for the compulsory lunch break at the cafeteria with the rest of the patients Jema all but kept to herself.

It was also nice to note that they had lots of harlequin books in their mini library, she'd suddenly found it her solace, her alone time to dwell in a fantasy world, one that wasn't hers. She'd keep away from everyone until her drugs kicked in, and she'd sleep so deeply until her nurse came for her.

This was her routine: eat, pretend to read one book for days, sleep off until hours later then mingle with the rest for a minute or two, see her shrink, and sometimes do light exercises to keep the body fit.
While she sat quietly by a corner of the break room she locked eyes with her. It would seem that anyone in her situation would leap with joy when they finally saw a familiar face in the midst of strangers but not Jema, in fact, she all but avoided her at all costs. Anything that reminded her of her situation, so she fixed her eyes back on the brown novel in hand, flipping through the pages as calmly as possible and with uttermost hope wished she'd take the cue just like she'd done in the past and left.

"Hey," a raspy voice said from above her. Jema shut her eyes and ground her teeth, locking in a frustrated grunt. "It's me, Fiona, remember?" When Jema refused to acknowledge her, she went over to the empty chair beside Jema and sat. "I thought you might truly not have recognized me seeing that we only met a handful of times and it's been so long but I know you do. You know who I am and I think it pisses you off," she admitted, causing Jema to glance maliciously at her.

Fiona grinned like a lady cat at Jema's reaction but shrugged and continued. "I know why you're here, Jema,"

A dry chuckle spurted from her throat, Jema glared at her unbelievably.

"You think I would lie to you?" Silence followed. "I also know why I got checked into this shithole... but it's better than getting nabbed for my crimes. I just don't know how long I have to stay here and listen to these deranged sounds and the drugs..." She let out an animalistic sigh. "I think they intentionally give us that to disarm us, make us obedient and willful. I don't like it, I sleep too much and have no time to reminisce on Snail, my husband,"

Jema perked up at the mention of the word 'husband' "Otis? Your fiancé, not your husband,"

"Oh, so you know us that well?" Fiona smiled, receiving an eye roll from Jema. "As long as he's proposed, he's my husband. Some damn vows ain't stopping us."

"Yeah, and you left him for another," Jema snorted and made to return to her book.

"Is that what you think? That I left Otis because of some guy?"

Jema moved to face her, a look of seriousness on her face. "Look, I don't care what it is that made you lose a good man like him, it's none of my concern, okay? And can I get back to my book?"

Fiona hissed but never moved, rather she shifted and tugged at the hem of her dress, distracting Jema. "You're just like him, you know?" She began. "Otis, I mean. He's so gentle and dedicated and loyal to fault that he doesn't know when to quit. You should've quit when you got shot, Jema. They don't deserve your loyalty or love."