chapter seven: cassandra

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"Where did you hear that?"

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"Where did you hear that?"

His eyes are filled with surprise as my curtains close.
I shall give him no more than what he returns.
"I think the question, doctor,
is why you are the one who recognizes,
and why it is I'm stuck in this cell.
What is it you write on your board?
I'm your patient; shouldn't I know?
Is it that I'm insane? Possibly illogical?
Is it that I'm silent when I know
and I speak when I know not?
What say you I tell you my mind?
The catch, though is that you tell me yours."

"Cassandra," the doctor speaks threateningly. "Have you been taking your pills?"

"Redirect my thoughts, you cannot, sir,
for my teeth are clenched around the truth.
Your insolence is bringing me to anger
and then my tapping will cease.
I couldn't walk out these doors without people seeing.
I couldn't leave your sight unless life's fleeting.
So tell me, doctor, tell me now.
Why to me do the creatures scream and shout?"

The man grimaces and shuts the door, jaw muscles twitching.
Curiosity in my brain begins its itching.
Jaw tight and mind simmering with anger,
I clutch the edge of the bed, waiting for his words.
Who's the doctor that scribbles about me?

He turns to me, his eyes ablaze.
I could see the fires of Hades within them.
In a slow motion, he sets the clipboard down,
resting it atop my sink in the corner.
It takes him three steps to reach the center,
two more to come before my face.
He smells of sanitized lotion and soap,
sending my nose into a scrunch.

"Cassandra Hodges," he scolds quietly.
"You have no idea what I had to do to keep you in this place. No idea what I've sacrificed. So stay still, or I'll have to remove you from where you sit.

My head aches. He has broken my rhythm.
He can't break my rhythm.
"I told you before, my rhythm is faulty.
Please oblige to what I can stand!"

I find my knees and rise, knocking him off-kilter.
Anger boils in my veins now
and my body aches from today.
But I can't rest until I've quieted the pests
that litter my room when the night falls through.

"There's only so much I can handle, good sir,
and your dialogue isn't on that list.
Speak to me briskly or I will scream
and you will have to see me day out and in.

"They'll lock me away in the jacket,
buckles too tight to escape.
You'll have to check on me,
in which I'll only speak riddles
and I'll speak them fast.
I know you hate this place
although you own it.
They've told me, the beings,
and they said it was your father's.
He forced you to run it
and you didn't want to disappoint.

"Try again, good doctor,
or I will dig deeper."

I hear the creatures return, chanting their words.
it fuels me and fires my insides
like a kiln ready for use.
Never has this feeling been felt
by my flesh or mind.
I rather like it, I realize,
as I tap my fingers in time.

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