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Authors: Jez Strider

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BOOK: Lovely
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Chapter 42

“You’ll be sharing a room with Dana.” Ms. B said as she gripped the stair railing firmly and slowly climbed the old narrow staircase.

I watched her warily from behind, expecting her to tumble and knock me down like a bowling pin at any moment. “I didn’t realize I’d be sharing a room.”

“Not enough space for everyone to have their own room.” She huffed when we reached the top and led me through the first open door on the right. “There’s a dresser and a nightstand. Lights are to be out by ten every night.”

My roommate was absent and I wo
ndered why I hadn’t seen any other patients since I’d entered the house. I set my suitcase down on the bed. “Where is everyone?”

“In the backyard.
They’ll come inside for dinner in a bit.” She started toward the door.

Thinking our conversation was over, I pulled out my phone. There was a text from
Gavyn.

Gavyn
:
Are you okay? Did you make it? I love you so damn much.

Me:
Yeah, it’s cozy. I miss you already. I love you, too.

Bertha turned around as if she were a teacher catching me in the act during class. “Finish that up. I’m afraid we have a no phone policy. I’ll keep it locked away until you leave.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s one of the rules.”

I groaned, probably sounding like a child, but it had been a long day. “Okay.”

Me:
Busted. They’re taking my phone right now. I love you. I love you. I love you. Bye.

The woman was tapping her foot impatiently and had her hand on her hip. I
would have typed about five more
I love yous
if I’d had more time.

“Sorry.
Saying another goodbye to my husband.” I handed her my phone.

“He’ll be there when this is over and you’ll be more capable of being a good wife.” She
dropped the phone into her pocket. “You have about an hour before dinner to get settled. Dana will be in before that.”

She left the room and shut the door behind her. That’s when I noticed the door knob didn’t have a lock on it. I sat down on the bed and covered my face with my hands. “Great,” I mumbled.

Chapter 43

My wallowing in self-pity wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I stood up and unzipped the suitcase Brody had brought me. The clothing had come from my room at my parents’ house. I picked up the sweatshirt that was on top. It had been
Brody’s during his senior year and had our high school logo on it. I’d slept in it for years, occasionally making him take it home to wear so his scent would be refreshed. Cautiously, I lifted it to my nose. It no longer smelled like him, but like the fabric softener our maid used in the laundry.

I sighed in relief and began shoving the rest of the clothing into drawers. At the bottom
of the suitcase, I found a surprise. A sketch kit with pencils had been left for me. “Thank you for this lifeline to sanity,” I said aloud.


You talkin’ to the voices?”

Startled, I turned around to see a girl who appeared to be around my age with spiky blonde hair. She eyed me up and down with a raised eyebrow and I realized I was still dressed in my courtroom attire.

“No, just… thinking, I guess.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt I had just put away out of the drawer. “Forgot I was still wearing this.”

“You look like a lawyer or a president’s wife.” She
walked by me and plopped down on her twin bed.

“Are you Dana?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Farrah.”

“I know.”

Awkwardly, I stood there trying to think of some conversation. “I’m going to go into the bathroom and change.”

“I ain’t gonna look.” She rolled over and faced the wall. “Just ‘cause I have short hair, doesn’t mean I’m into tits.”


I… I didn’t mean to suggest.”

She laughed, “I’m just
fuckin’ with ya.”

“Oh… good.”

I changed quickly, keeping my eyes on my roommate to see if she kept her word. “All set.” I unpinned the bun. My hair had been pulled back so tightly I’d nearly given myself a facelift. I shook out my hair and rubbed the tender hairline at my forehead.

Dana rolled
over onto her back. “What kind of crazy are ya?”

“I’m… I’m not crazy.”
I was certainly stammering more than usual, though.

“Okay, sure, because they send people without issues here.”

This chick was getting on my last nerve and I’d only known her a few minutes. “My mom’s schizo and they think I might be, too.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think I am.”

She grinned. “That’s what all the
schizos say.”


Hmpf. What’s wrong with you?”

“A pinch of masochism and a dash of depression.”

“Oh.” I sat down on the edge of my bed again. It was nowhere near as soft as Gavyn’s. The thought had me frowning.

“You
’re married?” She moved up and dangled her legs off the side of her bed, mimicking the way I was sitting. Her finger pointed at my wedding band.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

“A little more than a week.”

Dana whistled sharply. “Dang, girl. He ain’t gonna be waitin’ for you when you get outta here.”

“Why do you say that? You don’t know us.”

“Sorry. I’m a glass empty, thrown to the floor, and shattered into a million pieces kind of girl.” She clicked her tongue and hopped off the bed. “Time for chow. They don’t like it when we’re late.”

“I bet this will be an uncomfortable meal.” I followed her out of the room.

“Just don’t reach out far enough that the cannibal can grab your hand. She bites off fingers.”

I didn’t believe her, but the way she deadpanned what she said caught me off guard. “Thank
s for the warning.”


I don’t want to do your chores when you end up with stubs for fingers.”

Dinner was served at a long table in the dining room. There were six patients, three on each side. A different nurse had taken Bertha’s place. She wore a similar outfit, but
she was as buff as Ms. B was fat. I also caught a glimpse of something in her pocket and made the guess that it was a Taser. The night shift apparently brought the muscle.

At the head of the table was a grey-
haired woman wearing tiny rectangular glasses that rested far down on her nose. She folded her napkin and placed it in her lap that same way I had mine. When she spoke, her voice sounded harsh, as if she had been a smoker for a long time.

“Everyone, welcome our new guest, Farrah. She’ll be with us here for a little while. I’m Dr.
Winford and I’m very happy you decided to stay with us.”

A
couple of the other women greeted me. One glared. Another didn’t seem to hear anything that was said. They were mostly in their twenties or thirties except for the one that didn’t speak. I estimated she was closer to the age of the psychiatrist, maybe seventy.

“I appreciate the hospitality.” I smiled briefly.

She inclined her head before turning her attention to the rest of the table. “Let’s eat. Who wants to tell me about their day first?”

My appetite was nonexistent, but I scooped mashed potatoes onto my plate along with a chicken leg. The last thing I needed was the doctor to think I had an eating disorder as well. Staring at the white fluffy potatoes, I couldn’t help but think about the first day I’d
spent with Gavyn and how he’d made me dinner after my tooth extraction. How could a couple of months seem like a lifetime ago?

“Farrah, is the food alright?” The doctor asked.

I’d tuned out the conversation around me as I stared at the food on my spoon. “Yes, ma’am. It’s been a long day.” I ate the bite.

“The ladies watch television, play games, or read in the evenings. It’s free time. If you wish to turn in early after dinner, that’s quite alright.”

“I think I will.” I forced another smile before picking apart the chicken with my fork and taking a bite.

Normal. I could get through this. All I had to do was act normal.

Chapter 44

That night I crawled into bed and fell asleep quickly. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. I tossed and turned, woke up disoriented several times, and kept reaching out to cuddle with
Gavyn. When morning came, the evidence of the uneasy rest showed as dark circles underneath my eyes.

I powdered underneath them with a neutral toned make-up and headed downstairs. Breakfast was over already. The TV in the living room was on and several of the other women were watching. I avoided them and
slipped by the door to explore the house further. When I reached the end of the hall, I saw an open door and peered inside. Dr. Winford was sitting at her desk, typing something into the computer. I ducked back, but she called out to me.

“Farrah, come inside and shut the door.”

Shit.

There were two loveseat sofas facing each other with a table in the middle. A recliner was in one corner. Two chairs were in front of her desk. She walked over to the window and closed the blinds.

“Have a seat wherever you’re most comfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I sat down on the edge of one of the tan couches.

“I would have sent for you soon. I didn’t wake you for breakfast because I thought you needed the rest. How did you sleep?”

“Great,” I lied.

Dr. Winford stepped into the hallway. “Ms. B, could you get that plate for Farrah and bring it here.” She closed the door and curled into the corner of the opposing sofa. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“My family is worried that I’m exhibiting symptoms of schizophrenia.”

She sipped from her cup. I smelled coffee. “We’re going to be talking. That’s all. There’s no reason to jump to that conclusion.”

“That’s what I told them.”

“Do you know the most important part of any treatment?”

I shook my head.
“Medicine?”

“Knowing you have a problem and having the bravery to face it.”

“If I’m honest during all this, will I be forced to stay longer?”

The doctor leaned forward and placed her coffee mug on the table.
She pointed behind me. “You can walk out that door right now. Leave and tell your parents you stayed the entire month. This is a voluntary stay.”

I blinked a few times. Was she serious?

“Now, if you want to make sure you know what your issues are and how to cope, I want you to stay. I can help you.”

She sounded honest and caring, but I was out of my element. A knock on the door saved me from
speaking right away.

“Come in.” The doctor called out.

Ms. B entered with a tray. The plate had bacon, eggs, and toast. There was also a glass of orange juice. She placed it on the table in front of me and left the room without a word.


You can eat while we talk.”

I nodded. Once again, I wasn’t hungry, but I picked up the fork and began eating the meal. “My greatest concern is the safety of my husband’s son, Malcolm. I
don’t want to hurt him or forget him at the mall or something else horrible.”

“Do you think you will hurt him?”

“Never. Not in a million years, but I’d never forgive myself if it did happen.”

“Tell me about why you ran away.”

I finished chewing the food in my mouth and swallowed. “I wasn’t a sociable kid. I kept to myself. My brother and Brody were the only two people that could bring me out of my shell and I loved them both dearly.” Somehow, with this stranger, I was able to talk about the past without breaking down.

“Go on
when you’re ready.”

“The shock of hearing about the accident made me lose it, I guess. I couldn’t face Brody knowing he was partially responsible. Something inside me told me to run away.”

The doctor made a few notes on a pad of paper she’d picked up off the table. “Did you hear a voice telling you to run?”

For a moment I thought about it. “No, I don’t think so. It was more like I was talking to myself.”

“Mmhmm.”

“All I knew was I had to get away. I couldn’t deal with the pain, anger, sadness, betrayal, and heartbreak.” My mouth parched up on me so I took a swig of the orange juice.

“Tell me about the paintings on your walls.”

“It gives me peace. I love to paint. Living on my own, I could paint my walls because I wanted to. It wasn’t an obsession or anything.”

She nodded, leaning forward to pick up her cup and take another sip of her coffee. “What are the things that make you think you might have mental problems?”

“Stress.
I lock up and want to run away. ‘Run away’ is like my mantra.” I scoffed. “I cry. I feel sick inside. I know sometimes I talk aloud to myself which is weird. I’m not over things I should be over by now.”

“Everyone recovers at a different pace from trauma.”

I couldn’t believe everything I was telling this woman. It all spilled out of me. “Falling in love with my husband made everything so much better. Even with that, the threat from my family has hung over my head the entire time.” I rubbed my tired eyes and sighed.

“We can take a break for today. We’ll speak again soon. As important as your relationship may be, finding yourself is more important. This is a safe place to do that.” She walked to the door and opened it. “Take your breakfast and have some fun with the others.”

For some reason, as I picked up the plate and stood, a frightening secret slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. “I lied to you… to myself. I ran away because I did hear a voice. It was my brother blaming me for the accident.”

“Have you heard this since?”

“A couple of times, but I know it’s not real. No matter what I did in this world, my brother would never speak to me that way. The few times the voice spoke positive things were more convincing.”

“Farrah, this is the key for you. If you know it’s not real, it can’t take over your life.”

“Does this mean I have the illness like my mother?”

The doctor shook her head. “I want to speak more before I make a diagnosis. There are people in this world that hear voices, cope, and are not schizophrenic.”

“I appreciate you talking to me candidly. My other therapists only narrowed their eyes and nodded sagely.” I left the room before she could respond, not even sure if she was going to do so.

BOOK: Lovely
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