“Forest burial, or stuff the body in a garbage bag this time?” her husband added, and tears began to crowd my eyes. Anna studied me as disbelief and terror crept through my bones.
She walked to the table in the corner of the room. Her back to me, she tapped the surface with her bloodied fingernail. After a pregnant pause, she stepped in. “In spite of it all, I like this one. She’d be easy enough to break. And we have the room. Let’s keep this one. Put her in 5B. A little shock therapy, and she’ll be perfect.”
“But I don’t have any money. I don’t have family. It doesn’t make sense.”
Anna shrugged. “Nothing about this world makes sense, does it, Jessica? You know that. We need some fun around here. And you’re a pretty one. The families feel better paying us to keep their loved ones when there are a few pretty ones around. You’ll do just fine.”
“But you don’t want to take up a room for me.” My voice cracked with desperation. I knew I was grasping at invisible straws, but terror forced me to try.
Anna slammed her hand on the desk. “We told you that no one leaves here. We warned you. The smart ones leave on the first day. The stupid ones stay, and we own them. The even stupider ones stay and try to buck the system we have in place, try to play hero. They end up in the worst positions of all.”
“How many of us are there here? Like me?” I asked, trembling.
Anna counted on her hand. “You’ll be number three. We can’t keep too many of you, after all. Too many mouths to feed for free. We’ve had to dispose of quite a few over the years, although I’ll say I’ve gotten better at picking the ones who will follow the bandwagon. Who will do what we say. Who don’t have the moral compass to question anything. Still, every once in a while, a rogue one gets by me like you. It’s okay, though. We need ones like you sometimes, Jessica. It’s good to have insurance with the staff who have been here a while, who know too much. They know what happens if they squeal on anything happening here. You three serve as warnings, don’t you?”
“You didn’t warn me. Why didn’t you warn me?” I cried out.
“We tried. You didn’t listen. You couldn’t leave it alone.”
I thought back to all the odd statements about not leaving, all the threatening glares from Anna.
A sudden realization struck me. “5B. Was he one of us? Did he work here at some point?”
Anna laughs. “Oh, you are going mad. Of course not. He was just psychotic. We didn’t realize how crazy he was until you solved the mystery. A lot of good that did, huh? Don’t you see? It’s best to leave things alone that you can’t understand.”
“I’m sorry. I am. Please.” I hated myself for begging, but strength and courage don’t always flare up in the sight of destruction.
“It’s too late, darling. It’s just too late.”
I realized that all the hauntings, all the ghosts. This was a dark place. It had always been. I thought of the painting out front paying tribute to Francis Weathergate, the founder. Did he know what he was creating? Was this place ever meant to help, or was it designed to hurt? Was it designed to make money at all costs and exploit the weak?
It couldn’t be happening, not in 2020. Places like this didn’t exist, and people didn’t get away with murder, with kidnapping.
But they did. I thought of the man on floor two. I didn’t believe him. He looked me in the eyes, and I didn’t believe him. Who would believe me? Redwood was a place you came to disappear—and if you didn’t make yourself disappear, they did it for you.
I wanted death suddenly. The thought of being locked away—it made me insane. Criminally insane. Anger surged.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered and begged again.
“It’s too late for apologies,” she said, and then the needle was jabbing into my arm. I yelped in pain and in fear, but it was too late. All went black.
All went black.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Isucked in air as my eyes bolted open. My face touched the cold floor of the room, and my gaze travelled about the space. Four cold, desolate walls. A cot. A makeshift desk attached to the wall. The emptiness ricocheted through my soul. I tried to spring to my feet, but whatever was in my veins made me ache. My limbs felt sluggish. I pulled myself up onto the cot, desperation racking my chest.
It couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening. Tears fell, and a scream rocked through my throat. Angry and afraid, I crossed the cell to the door and pounded until my fists ached.
No one came. I screamed and yelled some more.
Still, no one came.
And then she did.
***
“Let me out,” I shrieked as she entered the room, a syringe in her hand. I eyed the needle warily, knowing that in a few strides, it would all be black again. I whimpered, rubbing my arm where she’d stabbed me the last time. My limbs were still heavy, leaden, with whatever she’d injected into me. I wiped at my tear-soaked face as I backed against the cold stone walls.
“Darling, there, there. It’s okay,” Anna whispered, an unrecognizable being from the night before. Was it the night before? I didn’t even know anymore.
“Get away from me. Let me out. I don’t belong here.”
“Oh dear. Have you forgotten?” she asked, as she lowered the syringe, her full lips pouty.
Sniveling, I wiped my nose and studied her. I didn’t offer the courtesy of responding.
“You killed him. That’s why you’re here,” she said.
I shook my head, which felt too heavy for my neck. What was she talking about? My fingers scratched into the wall.
She smiled sweetly. “The man in 5B. Terrible tragedy. Poor thing. You stabbed him. I guess it was all too much for you after all. It’s okay. This place gets the best of the weak.”
I shook my head, realizing too late that the sweet smile was covering up her maniacal plan.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I didn’t kill him and you fucking know it.” I slammed my fists into the cold wall. She didn’t move. In fact, she raised her left hand and studied her nail as if this were the least exciting conversation in the world. As if the destruction of my life was not worth her time.
“It’s okay. The mind is a wonderous thing. It shields us from the harsh truths we don’t want to see. Just like how 5B used the drawings and the talk of those kids to shield himself from the true horrors of what he did.”
“I didn’t do it and you know it. I didn’t do it. What have you done?”
Anna stopped inspecting her nail to look at me. Her face was placid. She played the part so well. So, so well.
“I didn’t do anything. You did. At least that’s what the police have decided. Reality, after all, belongs to the wise. And you haven’t been wise. Poor thing. It’s not your fault your mind is so fragile. The staff is all in an uproar about it. Adding stories about your instability. You really did make my job easy after all, with all of your crazy talk and erratic behavior. It was so believable when we talked about how you stabbed him, and how you were murmuring about the ghosts of 5B when I passed you in the hall.”
“You bitch,” I shrieked, ripping at my hair.
“Maybe. But I’m the one who is free. You’re the one who’s screwed.”
“You won’t get away with this forever,” I bellowed.
“Maybe not. Forever is a long time. But don’t worry. You’ll have time to replay it all over and over. To think about how you could’ve done it differently. Thankfully for you, I’ve pulled some strings. No one has to know about this, about what you’ve done. We’ll shield you from the terrors of a trial and prison and all of that ridiculousness. We’ll keep you here until you’re well.”
I crossed the room at that, ready to lunge for her throat. But I was still weak from whatever she’d given me, and she was so strong. She had me on the floor in a second, the needle poised above my left eye close enough to make me squirm.
“Move and you’ll lose it,” she demanded, the sweetness gone.
Tea
rs welled as I settled into defeat. Maddening defeat.
Slowly, she got off of me and walked to the corner of the room, tucking the syringe in the apron she wore. I slowly peeled myself up to a seated position, my back against the cot, my knees up in protection. Anna turned at the door to smile at me.
But then, in the corner of the room, someone else.
Yellow. Her glowing dress, her red pigtails, her marred face. I gasped, my heart racing. I couldn’t inhale enough air. She slowly raised a hand, her finger pointing at me. I buried my face in my hands. Maybe I had gone mad after all. Maybe Anna was right. Maybe I did belong in Redwood.
There was a long moment of silence where I thought maybe I could disappear into myself. But footsteps approaching startled me. I looked up to see it was Anna.
“What did you think would happen? You can’t get away with it. It always comes back around.” Her words were calm and pointed. And then, when she seemed satisfied with my wrecked state, she turned and left, the door slamming behind her.
I stared in dazed wonderment at the corner of the room.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the figure, my only consolation in the hellish place of horrors. But consolation was not what she was there for. I knew that. I knew it all along.
The figure approached me, and I hoped she would end me. I did deserve that after all. In truth, I deserved all of this. I’d tried to make it right. But some sins can’t be cleansed by helping another. Some sins are ours to carry.
Yellow stopped in front of me, but I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care what she did to me. I’d lost it all.
From behind her, a soothing voice with a lilt from another time. She wore a Victorian style dress that was stunning, set against her red hair. Unlike the children who had plagued me, her face was pristine although very pale. Her eyes were large, giving her a sad, sad appearance. She had a matronly look about her even though she was young.
She stepped forward, reaching for the hand of the being before me. She did not speak to me, but just looked at me.
And then she spoke, her voice stirring a familiarity in me. I’d heard her voice before. It seemed like it had been in a life long, long ago, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew I’d simply been transformed for the worse in a short period of time.
“Come on. She will do her penance now, young one. You can stay as long as you like to see it through. Redwood asylum welcomes you.”
And with that, I was truly, completely alone. Even the dead had left me to sit, ponder, and consider all the mistakes that had led me to such destruction.
Before Redwood
Ifought against my closing eyelids and heavy heart as I swerved back onto the unfamiliar road. I’d taken a new way home, hoping a change of scenery could assuage my heavy heart. It had been a tough few months, tougher than any other time in my life. Tougher than the year both my parents died, in some ways. The loneliness had been creeping in again, and with it, that familiar darkness I’d tried to usurp.
Too many deaths. It was the harsh reality of my life in the ICU. Too many times, I’d brushed against death, had felt the spirits of the deceased linger. I’d danced in the guilt of failure, something many nurses experience from time to time. For me, though, it was harder. In every lost patient, I saw the faces of my parents who I couldn’t save.
It wasn’t my fault. That’s what they told me at the hospital when I’d said my goodbyes after the car wreck.
It wasn’t my fault. That’s what my co-workers told me after every flatline, every goodbye I had to witness from family members of my patients.
It wasn’t my fault. But that didn’t matter. It was all too heavy, too much.
I swerved back onto the road again, dusk wreaking havoc on my already scattered brain. I considered what it would be like to careen into a tree, to let it all go, to stop having to feel the pain.
But suicide was for the weak. That was what Mama had always said. It was the only thing that kept me from ending it all. It’s what helped me paint on the faux smile at work, made me pretend it was all okay.
Through the winding streets of town, I drove on. Children riding bicycles as the sun set. Gleeful laughs heard over the sounds of my car’s engine as families and children celebrated the coming weekend. Friday vibes were alive and well, which made me feel even worse. Tears stung my eyes and clouded my vision. I stamped on the gas, needing to get away from the cheerful sights that only underscored my pain even more.
And that was when it happened. The flash of yellow darting between two cars.
The flash of red pigtails that I saw too late.
The bump and thump my car made as it heaved its way over the figure in the road. I gasped, glancing in my rearview mirror to see the flattened body in the road, her yellow party dress glowing even in the dim sunlight that remained.
A shriek. Some cries. Some neighbors rushing out. A frenzied woman kneeling on the road.
A decision for me to make. Stop and face the death once more. Or keep going into the great unknown.
I wiped away my tears and steadied my gaze on the horizon.
It was nothing. Just a pothole, I told myself. Just keep going.
And before I could change my mind, I stomped on the gas once more and drove off.
It was all nothing. Over and over, I convinced myself that I hadn’t done it. That it had been my imagination. And over and over, as I put miles between me and the town that haunted me, I told myself I just needed a fresh start. Somewhere I could disappear, could live a quiet life away from the pitying eyes of the town. A place where I could focus on helping the living, the troubled, the lonely.
A place like Redwood Psychiatric Hospital, I realized, the name coming to me like a sign from the universe.
It was all nothing.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
And so I drove on.
Epilogue
It was a chilly, gray Wednesday when the new nurse came into my room with her perky brunette ponytail and too-wide smile. I stared at her hands as she handed me the paper cup of medicine. They were shaking, but her enthusiastic chatter tried to cover the fact. I said nothing, staring straight ahead, blonde hair hanging in my face. My bare feet touched the stone floor of the cell. I had lost track of how many years I’d been in the room, a prisoner of my mind, of Redwood, of life itself. I counted down the unknown minutes until my escape. Being sold for science or for sex or for anything would be better than the stagnant life I had in the walls of Redwood.
“Be careful with this one,” Anna whispered, pulling the girl to the side of the room as if she were actually being secretive. I didn’t budge. I’d heard the script before. Over and over. We’d been through no less than four nurses since I’d been locked in. I used to try. I used to beg and plead. I tried winning them over with shows of rationality and intelligence. It never worked.
Anna made sure it never worked. With her stunning smile and kind demeanor, no one ever questioned her.
I certainly hadn’t in the beginning. I’d fallen for her act just like everyone else. I’d been a fool, too.
“What happened to her?” the chipper girl asked. I wondered if I sounded like this to Essic, if he’d had the same inner monologue that was dancing through my mind. I imagined he did.
“Sad story. Poor thing. She killed a little girl. Hit and run accident,” she whispered, eyeing me from her position.
My ears perked to attention at this. It was the first time she’d offered this information. How had she uncovered it? I told my heaving chest to settle. I tried to calm my breath. It was coincidence, certainly. She couldn’t know. Could she? Had she done her digging? And if she had, could it possibly mean someone was looking for me? I squashed the flame of hope before it could grow and smolder.
“That’s terrible,” the girl said, turning to look at me as if I were a museum exhibit and not a living being. Maybe, in some ways, she was correct in her assessment.
“Yes. It made her go more than a little crazy. Poor thing used to work her
e with us before we knew. She actually went insane and stabbed someone on the floor a few years ago. Such a tragedy. Luckily, the state sentenced her here, where we can help her,” Anna offered, smiling weakly. I turned at this and shot her a glare. She didn’t budge her face.
I thought about attacking the new girl, about shredding her to pieces with my teeth. At least it would be a mercy if I tore her throat out here. At least she wouldn’t fall for the same trap I did. At least she would escape. Even death is an escape at this point.
“That’s so sad,” the girl murmured, turning to study me with both pity and suspicion that ignited more rage in me. I kicked my feet against the stone.
“It is. But at least she has Redwood for her home. At least there’s that. And who knows, maybe someday, an even better place will come open for her. I have a feeling it will.” Anna smiled, and when the new girl nodded and turned to the door, she winked at me.
I shook my head. But as I opened my mouth to shout, I closed it again. My eyes landed on another sight.
She had returned. I shuddered, backing against the wall.
Her face was still mashed in, her features unrecognizable. But I’d know her anywhere. I had known her since that moment our lives were thrown together.
It was her fault, after all. It was her death that rocketed me on this path that led to Redwood. It was as much her fault as mine that we were trapped here, one spirit and one empty shell waiting for a redemption that would probably never come.
As Anna and the new girl walked toward the door, more figures wandered in. At least I was never alone anymore, although sometimes I wondered why I was so bothered by solitude. It was a constant struggle, battling between the horrors of solitude and the nightmares of the haunting spirits that plagued me. I clutched at my head as they all started talking, mumbling, shrieking. I could understand their moans, their cries. I could hear their words after so much time being confined. The thought wasn’t comforting in the least.
The Redwood Asylum: A Paranormal Horror Page 15
