Marked Secrets

2

Amelia

Twelve days later

Dr. Patterson wandered into my cell at the same time as usual that morning, this time carrying not a needle, but a stack of papers in one hand and the clothes I'd arrived wearing in the other. They were neatly folded and washed, ready to be worn back into the outside world.

The first thought that struck me was confusion since that was not my first time in jail, and last time I was set free there was no paperwork of any kind that was brought to me. Raising an eyebrow, I studied them and it did not take long for Dr. Patterson to notice.

"Here, put these on," Dr. P said, handing the stack of clothes to me and following my gaze to the papers. "We'll go over it once you're changed. Your Mother is here, in my office."

"What?" I asked, shaking my head in bewilderment. Taking the clothes in my arms, I walked to the bathroom slowly. I could hear my heart beat thudding in my head, knowing that feeling all too well.

On the verge of a panic attack, I shut the bathroom door behind myself to have some privacy while I changed. I stripped myself of the jumpsuit, almost not recognizing my own body anymore. Trailing my fingers along my visible collarbones, I sighed out. I had lost at least ten pounds being locked up in this prison, the rations were not very good and I was often left hungry.

My throat hitched at the lingering thought of what might be on those papers. I thought I knew, but I wanted to believe it wasn't true. There's no way it could be. It was only my second time here.

Dressing myself quickly in my old clothes, I thought back to the day that it happened. They weren't pretty memories, they were memories I wish I could erase from my mind forever. Unfortunately the world didn't work like that, especially not the one I lived in.

"Amelia, we can't continue to do this! You're out of your mind!" My Mother shrieked.

"Out of my mind?" I shouted back at her. "There's nothing I can do about it, Mom. I can't control it." My voice became somber, and  quivered gently.

"This is not okay to say, Amelia. We don't believe in that stuff, nobody does. Your mind runs away from you sometimes. Do you want to end up back where you were?" My Mother tested, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"I don't care what happens to me anymore. I don't care if I die, I really don't," I spat back at her, tears flowing from my eyes, and down my cheeks. I stopped for a moment to wipe them.

"You're losing it. I don't even know where you learned about this 'depression' from. This isn't how I raised you," She said, sounding disappointed in who I was. "I never had this problem with your sister, why can't you be more like her?"

I opened my eyes, pushing the memories aside for a moment. I would never tell her that it was my only friend Blake who opened my eyes to this. We met when we were both eleven, and he had just moved to Moonstone. He didn't grow up here, he came from a place where there was treatment for people with mental illnesses like my own.

He explained to me what depression was when I was crying and upset one day, and couldn't explain the intense emotions I was feeling. There was no rhyme or reason behind them, and it hurt when my parents just brushed me off when I came to them. That happened often when I was in my early teens, but now I've learned to manage the intensity of my emotions a bit better. On my own.