Burlap

21 - Crawl

“Now, tie the ends together in a knot. Does anyone need help with that?” The same man who had been teaching the class the entire time I’d been at Rosenton stood at the front of the room, a goofy, hopeful smile glued on his face.

A man up front who hadn’t stopped rocking back and forth since walking into the craft class rose his twitching hand and another woman who didn’t seem to be able to manipulate her fingers lifted her arm up, muttering angry gibberish under her breath.

I glared down at the beaded necklace in my hands. The crafts seemed to become more and more juvenile every week. The white yarn and macaroni and plastic beaded creation screamed at how little the staff thought us capable of. I couldn’t help but be jealous of John, who never even showed up this morning. I hadn’t seen him since the night before, right before I’d gone to shower. I’d asked Esther at the beginning of class if he was alright, but had received a biting response that led me to believe he was fighting his own demons. The ones that got him in Rosenton to begin with.

“This is stupid,” Esther muttered, jerking the two end of the knot tighter, breaking the yarn and sending uncooked pasta and little plastic beads flying in every direction. An older man with white hair and a protruding pot belly sitting diagonal from us cried out, then spun around and started cursing at Esther, his face cherry red and eyes bulging in unwarranted fury.

“Shut your hole, Pat! Turn around and make your little trinket before I take it from you and shove it up your-”

“Hey!” an orderly snapped, stalking toward us with a cautionary needle filled with sedatives glistening in his palm. “Cut it out! Pat, go back to work! Esther, shut up and get back to your necklace! Leave each other alone!” He yelled as if he were breaking up two growling dogs instead of people. I sank down in my chair and focused on turning invisible.

None of us had been ourselves all day. Marcie had begun to sink back down into her depressive state. Lottie had clung even tighter and closer to George, who had never looked more satiated and pleased in all the time I’d spent at Rosenton. Esther had been extra snappy and wary of everything, and John was nowhere to be seen. The only person who vaguely resembled himself was Ed, and that was more because he always seemed so mysterious and brooding anyway.

And the previous night’s effects didn’t skip over me. The tightness in my chest had only crushed my insides further and further, as the stress began taking its toll by making every dark corner lunge out at me and trick me into thinking we’d been caught already. My brain flipped and tumbled, tripping over itself as the pressure and impact of what we’d all done pounded into it.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, glancing up in time to see Esther nod in acknowledgment. I stood and speed walked out the door and into the stark, sterile hallway. The walls breathed around me, constricting and closing in on me with every breath.

You’re losing it, Power sang, laughing as she walked around the corner and stood in front of my sweating, clammy body. Black edged around the corners of my vision, threatening to overtake me and leave me at the mercy of whichever staff member came across me first. 

Power tweaked my nose, then went to inspecting her nails with an amused grin on her painted lips. She wore performance makeup, the heavy kohl and mascara making her eyes look larger and foreign. Despite the heavy makeup reserved for the spotlight, she wore a simple practice leotard that highlighted her smooth curves, the simplicity making her appear even more attractive than normal.

“You look like a tart,” I blurted, reaching out to lean against the inhaling wall beside me. Sweat dripped from my temples, trailing down my jaw and making my skin feel tight and grimy.

And you look like you can’t handle a little stress. It’s been a day, Sane. You’re just chomping at the bits to be caught. All of you are. You don’t think Shilling doesn’t notice how all of you are acting like your dog died? You need to stop being so weak and stupid. Get over it and move on. If I end up on the thirteenth floor because of you, I swear I’ll rip out your tongue and mop the entire ward with it. 

I glared at her from beneath the arms propping my forehead against the wall. Her presence made everything around me press closer and closer to me, taking up all the air and leaving my breaths quick and my my fingers and lips tingling. I was fairly certain I was hyperventilating, but the only thought racing through my head was, GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT.

Power disintegrated into millions of tiny particles as I bolted for the staircase, straight through her. Had she been a real, tangible person, I would have barreled them over with the force of motion my legs used to propel me toward freedom. Everything around me was too close, too tight, and too suffocating. My inner walls of sanity cracked and shifted, threatening to crumble to the ground and let loose all my demons while destroying me in the process.

By the time I made it outside, my body was working solely on some base instinct that knew more than I did, because while it headed in a straight direction like it knew where it was going, I had no idea where my legs were carrying the rest of me. I flew through the rose garden, past the vegetable garden and to the overgrown bush I’d come to dream obsessively about. I dove behind it and crawled, smearing soil and wet sludge down the front of my clothes, under the hidden hole in the fence.

The moment the fences of Rosenton Home for the Criminally Insane no longer trapped me within its morbid walls, fresh air filtered into my lungs and I knelt in the grass there, soaking in every drop of clean, untainted air. Nothing bad happened outside the walls of Rosenton. No murders, no horrible doctors, no nurses with scary medications, no orderlies with needles in their pockets. Out here, the weight lifted from my chest and I sobbed with overwhelming relief.

I could run.

I could leave and never look back.

I could be free.

So, do it.

I frowned at her intruding voice. It was too much for me to hope to be completely free. She would always be there, causing more trouble and stress than I could handle properly. Though, I wasn’t sure anyone knew the proper way to handle having a second person in your head. A murderer at that.

A deep sigh traveled past my lips. I couldn’t leave my ward mates. Not after all they’d done for me. Not after all John had done for me.

I uncurled, standing barefoot in the cool grass, the emerald blades greeting my clenched toes. With my shoulders back and determination flowing through my limbs, I walked into the forest. 

A/N: I'm so sorry it's so short. I always am about 4 chapters ahead of what I post, but this one seemed to mirror my ability to write this week anyway, and I'm just going to apologize for the quality of it now. Here's to hoping I can get out of this funk and get back on track, huh?