post it (SEQUEL TO BITE)

seven

im lying on my bed in my bedroom, my eyes trained on the weeping willow tree outside. the sun was shining directly onto my bed through the window, warming my cold skin just slightly.

my eyes were a little bit blurry, but I couldn't move my arms to rub the goop out of the corners. according to one of the nurses, i got violent when told to take my medications. they couldn't calm me down with words, so they were forced to stick a needle in my arm to sedate me, and restrain my arms and legs. 

i don't know how long i've been out, or what i was even dreaming about. all i know is that i'm staring out the window, watching a slight breeze of the outside world wisp away fallen leaves of the weeping willow.

i look down at my feet, and laugh to myself. the only thing i can think of is in that one movie The Craft - when sarah tears nancy out off the picture, and wraps the ribbon around it as she says repeatedly, "i bind you, nancy, from doing harm - harm against other people, and harm against yourself."

i continue to laugh at myself, seeing myself as nancy in the last minutes of the movie. 

nancy was always my favorite. maybe that's why i'm so gay now. 

i wonder what billie is doing right now. is she sleeping? does she even sleep? i roll my eyes at my ridiculous thoughts. of course she sleeps, how else would she always look so perfect?

i hum a soft tune to myself as my laughter dies down. i begin thinking about billie, and all of the little notes she's been leaving me. if she's actually dead, then how is she writing them? would dr baird believe me, if i showed her the notes?

would billie be angry if i showed her mother the notes she sends me? she most likely would be angry, unfortunately. 

how else am i supposed to make people believe me? how am i supposed to convince people that i'm not crazy, so they'll stop forcing me to take those disgusting blue and white pills? 

i'm still so fucking confused because i still don't know what lead me to be trapped in this tiny ass room in the first place. no one tells me anything.

i'm pulled out of my thoughts as the door to my room opens, dr baird walking in cautiously.

"how are you feeling, rowan?" she asks softly, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside my bed.  

"confused," i reply honestly, looking at her curiously. "i don't even know what happened."

"unfortunately," she begins, letting out a deep sigh. "you tried to attack a nurse when he tried to give you your medications."

i scoff at her words, rolling my eyes. "those medications make me feel sick, dr baird, it's not my fault."

"i understand that, honey," she says sadly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "and please, call me maggie."

"maggie," i repeat, nodding once. "i don't like taking those medications, because they make me physically sick."

"it's one of the side effects, yes," she tells me, nodding slightly to herself as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her black cardigan. "but there's really nothing we can do - you didn't respond to any other medications, but this one you did."

"why do i even have to be on any medications?" i ask her quietly, tugging at the restrains on my wrists. "is this even necessary?" 

she looks at the door before standing up, freeing my wrists of the uncomfortable restraints. "your disorder is what's making you act out."

"you know, i don't even know why i'm here." i tell her, the anger of being kept in the dark for three months showing through. "no one has even told me why i'm locked in this place like a dog in a shelter."

she sighs once again and looks at me sympathetically. "rowan, you brutally murdered eight people and stole a car."

my eyes widened at her revelation. "i actually did those things? i thought i was just travelling-"

"you did, sweetheart." she says, licking her lips quickly. "you brought yourself in to the police station and told them about the acts you'd committed."

"why don't i remember any of this?" i ask her, sitting up in my bed. 

"because you weren't in your right mind," she replies, crossing her left leg over her right one. "that's when i first met you - you were standing outside of my house one night, and you made my son uncomfortable."

"finneas," i say in a whisper, looking at my hands. "i never hurt you guys - billie told me to get out of the house and meet her outside.."

"so you were seeing my-" she stopped herself, clearing her throat before continuing. "you were seeing billie before you were admitted?"

"i guess so." i reply, looking at her as confusion takes over my brain. "this isn't making any sense to me."

~~~

once again, i'm lying on the sofa in the living room as a dark shadow graces the walls in the corner. i sigh deeply as i watch the shadow shuffle around in the corner before billie walks toward me, shoving my legs off of the sofa before sitting down, pulling my legs back up to rest on her lap.

"hey, baby girl," she murmurs, her cold hand grabbing mine. "how are you feeling?" 

"apparently," i start, looking at the girl. "i was seeing you before i even got stuck in this place."

"duh," she lets out a soft laugh, the small space buns on either side of her head wiggling slightly. "i'm a real person, you know."

"i know that," i sigh, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. "it just bothers me that no one believes me."

"i believe you," she murmurs, pulling my malnourished body into her lap. i rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes, feeling her thudding heartbeat against my side. "i love you, rowan."

"i love you more, bil." i reply, a yawn leaving my lips. the sedatives are still in my system, i think.

"here, mamas," she whispers softly, placing a neon pink paper in the palm of my open hand. "get some sleep."

i open my eyes, and she's gone. like always. i look down at the note in my hand and smile at the messy handwriting. this girl will actually be the death of me.

don't worry, baby girl, i'll get you out of here.