Trapped

Chapter Six

Reluctantly I leave the cloud chair and step out into the hall. The man, Jozef she had called him, was waiting. We go back through the F Wing door, through C Ward, and into G Ward. My stomach sinks and my heart begins to race. He's taking me back to that awful cell! What have I done to deserve this? When can I go home?

Just as I'm about to have a full-blown panic attack, he stops walking. Wordlessly he takes out his keys and opens door 211. All the doors in G Ward have odd little squares cut out near the top I notice, and this door is no exception. I don't know what it all means, but I'm so relieved that I'm not being taken back to my cell right now that I go in the room without a moment's hesitation. Whatever is in there has to be better than that horrid cell.

It's a relatively small room, about half the size of my room at home. Two other women are already in here, one sitting on the ground staring at the finger-smudged wall, and the other sleeping in one of the four narrow cots in the back of the room.

As soon as Jozef is sure I'm completely inside the room, he slams the door and locks it. Awkwardly I freeze, unsure of what to do with myself. This is certainly an upgrade from earlier, but not exactly what I had in mind. I wait for the woman who's awake to acknowledge my presence, but she continues to stare at the wall as if she doesn't even know I'm here. Slowly I take a step forward, pause, take another step, pause. I sink down against the wall opposite the woman. To avoid meeting her blank stare, I look down and work on cleaning my dirty fingernails.

They only made me stay presumably one day and night in that cell, so chances are they will do the same thing here, right? This time tomorrow, I may be on my way home. I know I shouldn't leave Mother here, but if I'm let out tomorrow there is no way I'm sticking around until she's let out. I'll ride up here every day if I have to, but I'm not staying a minute longer than necessary. No telling where Anna heard this hospital was the best of the best, but wherever she got that information from was wrong. I wouldn't send one of our chickens here to be looked after, much less a person.

“So, I see we have a new roommate,” smiles the girl in the cot some time later while rubbing her eyes.

The old woman across from me nods, “Got here about an hour ago.”

I almost jump at the sound of her voice. She acted so distant I'd just assumed...

The girl rolls off her cot and extends her hand to me, “I'm Bri.”

Hesitantly I reach for her hand, “Kathryn.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure we will get along wonderfully,” Bri almost sings. Spreading her arms out she laughs, “Welcome to our room.”

I'm in no mood to be socializing and making friends. Not today. Not now. This girl is obviously trying to make an effort to be friendly, and I do appreciate the sentiment. I just don't want it. No need to be making friends here when tomorrow I am going to be home. “Thanks,” I smile politely.

As Bri gracefully sits down beside me I'm able to get a good look at her. My guess is that she's a couple years older than me. Her waist length curly hair hanging loose around her shoulders is the prettiest shade of copper, and her eyes are the brightest blue I have ever seen. Against her pale angular face her eyes pop out even more. Bri smiles brightly, showing her perfect, straight teeth and the slight hint of dimples in her cheeks. If I didn't have more pressing things to worry about, I think I might be terribly envious of her. She's one of those fortunate girls that you come across every now and then who doesn't even have to try to look pretty, causing the rest of us girls to feel like phonies. She doesn't appear to be hurt in any way though, so I can't imagine how someone as lovely as her ended up at the hospital.

“I'm Mary,” mutters the woman staring at the wall, breaking into my thoughts.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” I croak out of habit. Mary is tiny and fragile, almost looking as if she could fall over dead at any moment. Her gray hair is long and stringy, and deep wrinkles crease her face. Her eyes are dark and piercing, with a strange rodent-like quality about them. Despite Mary probably being in her 70s and half my size, I am terrified of her.

As if sensing my thoughts, Mary narrows her eyes at me. After glaring at me for one of the most uncomfortable minutes of my life, her face contorts into a sly, toothless grin. “How did you land yourself in this place?”

I do not want to talk about it. I do not want to pour out my heart to this witch-like woman who is clearly trying to intimidate me. Out of all the rooms in the building, they would put me in a room with this hag.

Suddenly I feel a poke in my rib and jump back in surprise. Mary's bony finger is left hanging in the air. “Are you going to answer me or not?”

Silence failed me, so I try a new tactic. “I don't even know exactly where I am,” I grumble.

Mary literally starts cackling and I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming. I have never believed in witches and the like, but I'm beginning to rethink that. If there is such thing as a witch, she is sitting right in front of me. “Poor, tragic little dandelion,” Mary snarls.

Bri shoots her a disapproving look. Gently she takes my cold hand into her warm ones and says softly, “We're in the Atlanta Mental Hospital.”

I almost choke on my saliva. The what? Surely any second now they're going to start laughing. She's kidding. Pulling a joke on the new girl. Why aren't they laughing yet? My heart races and the room sways dangerously to the left. This can't be right. It doesn't make sense. “A lunatic asylum?” I finally whimper.

Mary clears her throat, “Actually it's a lunatic, idiot, and epileptic asylum.” Bri starts giggling but then quickly attempts to cover it up by coughing.

That isn't true. None of this is true. “But...” I stammer. “It can't be. I'm not crazy.”

“Neither are we, but yet here we are,” Bri snorts.

I hug my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. I have tried my best to stay strong, but this is too much. I'm in an insane asylum? It all comes together. The lack of people outside, the strict escorts, the cells, the doctor and desk lady acting like I was incompetent... I rock back and forth. I won't be going home tomorrow. I won't be going home tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Anna knew the whole time. Anna betrayed my mother and me! She did this to me!

This is wonderful. Just wonderful. My father is dead, my brother is dead, as far as I know my mother could be dead, I certainly wish my aunt were dead. Instead she's probably still living in our house, using our belongings, and here I am. Stuck in a mental institution. I cry for at least half an hour. Not quiet ladylike tears, but full out body wracked sobs, complete with loud gasps and snot.

“I can't believe my own family would do this to me,” I hiccup to myself once I had cried my last tear.

“Never trust family. The whole lot of  'em's evil,” Marry hisses through gritted teeth.

“Not all of them,” Bri insists. “My mother was an angel sent by God, I'm convinced. She was everything I strive to be, and then some.”

“Fine, most of 'em are though,” Mary huffs. The two then go into some kind of conversation about worthless relatives, but I tune them out. Solitude is what I long for. Some alone time until this sinks in a little. Within the past couple weeks, my life has been twisted around, hung upside down, and pulled apart.

I think Mary is asking me something, but I stare past her. Bri hushes her and looks at me with sympathetic eyes. Speaking to me softly, Bri takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. This has to be a nightmare. Real life isn't like this. I feel myself being led towards the back of the room. Next thing I know, I'm lying in one of the cots and Bri is tucking me in. I close my eyes and make the rest of the world fade out until it no longer exists.