He latched what seemed like a short thick dog collar onto my left wrist and buckled it. It was heavy and made holding up my wrist less pleasant. He quickly buckled the other one. A sort of rope, almost like you would find at the end of a backpack strap ran between the two, almost a foot in length.
He fastened it about two inches, then lowered my wrist.
“I won’t tighten it too much, so you’ll have less trouble eating.”
“Thanks.”
He walked me down a hallway, through double doors into the cafeteria area. It had a serving line much like a school, and about ten tables with chairs attached to the tables. There were approximately fifteen other patients in the room, eating or talking to one another. While some of them had an unease about them, the majority seemed to be typical people. As I walked in, some turned their head, others continued about their activity. One patient, however, made a beeline for me and Ryan. He strode over flamboyantly, exaggerating every step and expression.
“Ryan, Ryan, Ryan!” he exclaimed as soon as he arrived, attempting to clutch Ryan’s free hand that Ryan pulled away.
“You know the rules, no touching,” Ryan said with the shake of his finger and a smile.
“Of course, of course,” this man said with a bow of his head in apology, “Ryan, who is this?”
“William, this is Danielle, she is just about to get something to eat. If Danielle is okay with it, you may join her. Are you okay with that, Danielle?”
“Of course she’s okay with it,” William said excitedly, clutching my arm with his hand.
Ryan quickly removed William’s hand from my arm with force and placed it at William’s side.
“I said no touching, William, you need to listen. Do it again, and I will write a report. Now, I didn’t ask you, I asked Danielle if she would like to eat with you. Danielle?” he asked, looking over at me.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
William smiled and clutched both of his hands together, “Wonderful.”
Ryan took me to get a tray of food then sat me opposite of William at the table. I looked down at the styrofoam tray with a mixture of carrots and peas, a slice of some sort of meat product with gravy, mashed potatoes, completed with an apple juice, and a spork on the side. I slowly consumed some of the mashed potatoes with no interest in the rest of the meal. They were not terrible. As I ate, I noticed William’s eyes examining me, and him fidgeting continuously. I tried to ignore it.
“So, can I see it?” he said at last.
“See what?” I said, shifting my eyes back and forth, thinking he must be some sort of pervert with his question.
“Your gift, silly. You’re a dual soul if I’m not mistaken. Is that right?”
I stopped eating and placed my utensil on my tray, “What do you know about dual souls?”
“Oh, I’ve heard things, learned things . . . seen things,” he said with an unnerving smile “I never thought in all my years I’d be in the same room with one, but I heard you coming a mile away.”
“How?”
“Your thoughts are like sirens, like the tortured crying for help, I’ve never felt so high in my life.”
“You’re a reader,” I said, remembering a similar description of my thoughts from the palm reader.
“Yes, but here I’m no reader, or so they tell me. The voices I hear, the whispers, and the future depictions I see are not real they say. Schizophrenia is what they call it. I don’t mind being here though. At times the voices get misinterpreted, mixed, and transposed. Sometimes the things I hear are lies. This is where I come to rest. To sort out my voices, put them back in their proper place. They are always quieter here, except for yours.”
I hesitated with my next question, but curiosity coaxed me, “What do you hear?”
This drew another repulsive grin from William. I averted my eyes slightly.
“What do I hear? The gift consuming you, the rage of a thousand wrongs, the guilt of a cold body. I hear your mother crying as you pushed her to the edge. I feel Abel’s family shattered by the light you took from them. Your father lost and alone, feeling like a failure in every way imaginable.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, sensing the heat rise in me at his words.
“Show me and I’ll stop.”
“No.”
“I hear Cindy being beaten for her infertility. Your great-grandmother’s relief to leave this cruel world and pass her gift to you knowing that you would suffer every day, but she still willingly did so.”
The familiar strobe light of blood laden lenses began. I looked around for Ryan to come to my aid. I saw him standing across the room, and he seemed to notice my discomfort and began to walk over. However, another orderly stopped him for something.
“I’m warning you,” I said, glaring at him.
“I see your brother being preyed upon, asking you for help, asking you to listen . . . but you’re too busy. And of course Peyton, Peyton, Peyton! Let’s not forget about her. You’re her savior, her love, her everything. Oh, my God, if she could just make you see.”
I stood up from the table. I needed to remove myself from the situation. Just as I rose, Ryan noticed and began heading my way once more. I started toward him and just as I felt I had dodged disaster, William spun around in his chair and lit the match that would lead to his demise.
“Danielle, you shouldn’t have so much pent up hatred for Christian, at times, Nathan liked the things that Christian did to him,” he smirked and turned around.
I changed direction to walk the other way. I had almost taken my second step, then my instinct took over, and I turned back.
I slipped my thumbs under the rope of my wrist wraps, and in one motion slipped it over William’s face and around his neck. As soon as I jerked the rope back, I heard an immediate choking noise from William. I then slammed his face against the table, making an immediate blood spatter, splitting his nose open.
As I was about to pull him back toward me again, he slipped a hand between the rope and his throat. I pulled back hard and removed him from his chair. In these three seconds, Ryan had caught up to me and was attempting to pry me away from William. I tightened my grip so nothing could get between us. Ryan grabbed my arms, even lifting me off the ground, but it did nothing to alleviate the grip I had around his neck. William repeatedly pulled at the rope in an attempt to gasp for air, at which point I tightened my grip more and more.
Two more orderlies arrived to assist, grabbing and punching me. All the other patients were moved along the walls.
“We’re going to have to do it!” one orderly shouted.
“Get a fucking sedative, now!” shouted another.
Three of them pulled out metal batons. With an apprehensive swing, the first blow struck the back of my right leg. Another, on my lower back; others hit my arm, my shoulder, my side, my stomach, my ribs.
All the while, no blow penetrated my body, but I absorbed all the pain and held onto it.
“You wanted to see my gift, right?” I whispered in William’s ear as he tried to gasp for breath. A noise that could have been a ‘no’ crept out of his mouth.
“Yes, you did,” I said angrily into his ear.
“What the fuck is going on!” a shout came from behind me.
“She’s not falling!”
“Harder, hit her harder!”
“You want to know what I can do?” I said as someone laid a blow to my head, and another to my leg knocking me off balance, “I’ll show you.”
I quickly loosened my grip on the strap and pulled it over his head. I plugged both of my hands forward into his back, releasing all the brutality intended for me onto him. Rays of red light filled my vision as William was thrust forward, face first onto the floor. I, as well as the six orderlies around me, were thrown backward.
There was silence for a moment. Everyone looked around in confusion. Then, cries of torment began to erupt from William. The most anguished disturbing noises I’ve heard to this day.
&nb
sp; He lay on the ground, as blood began to drain from his body across the floor, filling the cracks in the linoleum as the pools expanded. His body mangled, blood splatter showed through his pants across the back of his legs, more on his back, a bone beginning to protrude from his arm. And the blow they attempted to lay on me, had blood gushing from the back of his head.
“What did you do to me?” came cries between his screams of pain.
All of them rushed to assist, but every inch of him they touched only inflicted more pain. They began fetching towels, blankets, anything to slow the bleeding; attempting to ascertain the extent of the damage. I felt something in the back of my throat trying to escape. I let out a small laugh, then another, and in moments, my laughter became uncontrollable. I did not think it was funny, perhaps a different side of me thought so, but nothing could stifle my uncontrollable laughter.
“Can someone shut her up!” one of the men assisting William yelled.
Another man grabbed my arm to pull me up off the ground and immediately jerked his hand away.
“What the fuck!” he said, gripping his hand in pain. He attempted to grab me again and pulled his hand right back. I continued laughing harder.
“What are you doing? Get her out of here!” the same man shouted again.
“I can’t touch her,” he shouted back, holding up his hand that was bright red, and starting to rip like an open blister.
Another orderly tried to grab me with the same response.
“Well, do something!”
“I have an idea,” Ryan said, running out of the room and returning moments later with what appeared to be a device that dog catchers use. A long pole with a metallic circular rope on the end.
“Everyone stand back,” he said. Everyone quickly obliged and went to help William, or wrangle distressed patients.
I stopped laughing as Ryan knelt in front of me, attempting to figure out the contraption. He glanced at it, then me every millisecond, and the pole shook in unison with his unsteady hands.
“Please put your hands together and place them away from your body," he requested.
I complied.
He crept toward me and placed the noose around my wrist. I pulled in a downward motion to tighten the hold till it was completely secure around them. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up with the end of the pole in his hand.
“You got her?” someone said, ripping the end of the pole out of Ryan’s hands, “I’ll take it from here.”
The man who took the pole from Ryan gave it a jerk, causing me to hit the floor.
“Hey!” Ryan said, attempting to regain control of the pole. The man shoved him back.
“I think you’ve already fucked things up enough today, Ryan, wouldn’t you say? Why the fuck weren’t her straps tightened!” he shouted at Ryan.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said with a guilt-ridden expression.
* * *
“So, it was you,” Rachel said at the end of my story.
“Did you ever doubt?”
“No, I did not, I guess I wanted to. How did you become like that? How did you develop the ability to do those things?” she started as something seemed to catch her eye behind me.
“Joy ─ ” Rachel began.
“Rachel,” she said, raising her eyebrow, and crossing her arms, “Please step away from the patient.”
She walked across the room to stand next to Dr. Joy. The doctor whispered something to her, and Rachel shook her head and walked away.
“Dani . . .” Dr. Joy said.
“Dr. Joy,” I said, avoiding her eye contact.
“It’s time for our appointment,” Dr. Joy said, beginning to leave.
“I thought our meeting was canceled,” I said.
“Oh no, we’re still on,” she said.
“Don’t I need an escort?”
“Just follow me.”
We arrived at her office and she jumped into the questioning.
“What were you two discussing?”
“The incident a few years ago with that patient.”
“Ah, I see. The incident that almost got this hospital shut down and got multiple staff members fired. They would’ve had a big lawsuit on their hands had the patient had any sort of family, or anyone to worry about him, but no one came. No one cared. Why was she asking you about that?”
“Curiosity I suppose.”
“Staff is not supposed to converse with patients about their history.”
“Well, fire her then,” I said, nonchalantly.
“Your sarcasm and humor are always such a breath of fresh air, Danielle.”
“Yours as well, Dr. Joy, but she is really terrible at her job. Once, she almost gave me the wrong pills.”
“She what?”
“It was an accident, I assume.”
“Do you know if you ever took the wrong pills from her since you have been seeing me?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” I asked, trying to calm Dr. Joy’s exaggerated irritation.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay,” Dr. Joy replied, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief, “Putting that aside for now. From where we left off, tell me what happened next?”
Chapter Thirteen: The Funeral
On the day of my mother’s funeral, I sat as far back in the chapel as I could. I didn’t want people to see me cry, or of more concern, see me not cry at my mother’s funeral. I knew I was disrespecting her memory by avoiding showing my face on her last day. It was more troublesome being in the back than in the front of the church. I could hear all the people’s gossip about what happened.
“Apparently, Alex said he wanted a divorce, so she killed herself.”
“I heard that she was having an affair and Alex found out so she killed herself.”
“The poor children.”
“Yeah, I heard the daughter found the body, that’s why she’s not here, she lost it, and was committed!”
“I heard she was arrested!”
“Oh, I saw the cops across the street!”
I quickly leaned into the crowd of whispers and said: “Oh yeah, well I heard she killed herself because people couldn’t stop gossiping about her life since their lives were so boring they had nothing else better to fucking do.”
I leaned back hard into my seat as the people became silent at my comment. I checked my watch waiting for the ceremony to end. Several people went up to the front to speak on my mother’s behalf. Even my brother was brave enough to say a few words. When they announced the final speaker, it captured my attention.
As Christian walked toward the podium and began to organize his papers, I felt my familiar friend overtake me. Anger. I immediately rose from my seat. As he started his speech, I walked down the middle aisle toward the front of the church. My mind was in disbelief that this man of all people was speaking at my mother’s funeral.
As I reached the front of the church, he noticed my presence and paused.
“Dani . . . is everything okay? Did you want to say something?”
I stood for a moment, glaring at him.
“What are you doing, Christian,” I said disgustedly.
Whispers reverberated through the crowd.
“Danielle, please don’t do this,” my father said, getting up from the front row.
“No, how dare you speak a word about my mother. Did you plan this?” I asked, glowering at my father. “Did you encourage this animal to be here, to speak at my mother’s funeral?”
My father stared at me, shocked. He didn’t appear to grasp the meaning of my words.
“I hate you, Christian,” I shouted from the front of the church looking up at him, “Don’t for a second think that I will ever forget what you did!”
I felt arms grab me from behind and pull me toward the back of the church.
“I will never stop, Christian! I will hunt you down! The next time I see you, it will be the last thing you ever fuckin’ see!”
My fi
nal words escaped me as I was shoved outside into the open air.
“What the fuck are you doing?” came a voice from the person who had grabbed me.
I turned my head to see Peyton standing there. She looked so beautiful. She wore a black dress, just long enough to be appropriate, just short enough to remain stunning. Her hair was barely blowing in the light wind. I would never forget how gorgeous she looked that day. She had an expression of concern on her face, something she had grown to wear all too often around me.
“What are you doing here, Peyton?” I asked, leaning against the wall, sliding my sunglasses onto my face. I raised my eyes briefly and caught her eye for the first time. An intuitive perception rushed through me and turned my stomach. Something was different about her. I tried to look closer without her noticing. Something about her had changed.
“You knew I would come. I’ve been calling you and texting you and emailing you and messaging you for weeks. Why haven’t you responded?”
“Because I don’t know what to tell you,” I said.
“They told me you had died. Can you imagine what that felt like?”
“Well, I’m here.”
“Don’t talk like that, Danielle. You act like our relationship was nothing, just some casual fuckin’ friendship that didn’t matter. You don’t fool me, we both know that whatever we have or had is something powerful, and unmistakable. Danielle, give me something,” she pleaded, her eyes locked onto mine, watching me intently.
I stared back at her.
“Danielle, I have been there with you, and suddenly you’re pushing me away. I care about you more than anyone else in the world. It’s been so hard to not be around you, it’s like I’m missing a part of myself that now, I’m afraid it is lost inside you in a person I’m not sure exists anymore.” She tried to hold back the tears rushing down her face, wiping them away in frustration.
“Say something!” she screamed at me.
She had taken me completely off guard. There was so much I wanted to say. She reached for me, putting her hands on my shoulders, then wrapping her arms around me. She reached up and removed my sunglasses.
“Look at me, Danielle, I need to see you,” she said.
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