“She’s my roommate, and we argue all the time,” I interrupted. “Girls fight. Haven’t they taught you that in med school, Doc?”
“She is still a hospital employee and your conduct was inappropriate. You’ve also threatened to stab the night nurse and you needed to be sedated three times, so if you want to sit here in silence, fine. But know you’re prolonging your stay.”
“Doc, I’ve been missing for a week, or so they tell me. I have no memory of it beside glimpses that come in and out when they feel like it—glimpses that consist of flashing lights, blinding pain and sore limbs. At this point, I have no clue what is real anymore. I believe I was taken since the last thing I remember is being hit on the head, but everything and everyone else is telling me I’m lying. That I was out having a grand old time. I’ve never used drugs in my life, yet my blood work states that I’m hooked on the shit. There are pictures of me in clubs and receipts with my signature on them. My driver’s license was scanned at these after-hours locations—none of which I remember. But if you want me to be honest with you, fine I will. Write me a prescription for some painkillers. Strong ones. That seems like a great fucking way to numb the pain I feel.” I scratched my dirty, oily scalp.
“Why do you want to numb the pain?”
I rolled my eyes at his question. Why wouldn’t I want to be numb? The bell on his clock rang and I rose from my seat.
“Time’s up, Doc.” I strolled to the door, waiting to be escorted back to my room.
“Try the breathing exercises I showed you when it all gets to be too much. That should help regulate the pain.” I laughed at his comment as I strolled back to my room. Breathing exercise didn’t work; only a time machine to turn back time could help me now.
I sat in my white room, watching the sunset over the Manhattan sky. The orange rays brightened my room. I pushed the food cart away; any earlier hunger had vanished. Unable to eat, I watched the city below in the distance. The tears peeked through my eyes when I thought back to what had caused me to be locked away like a prisoner, trapped in a small room where the windows wouldn’t open and bars secured them, so even if you threw a chair at it, you still couldn’t climb out.
After I was held down and sedated, I woke up the next morning with my room filled with people. Kennedy, Gus and Loren all stood next to me with concerned faces. Peyton was nowhere to be found, though I’d heard him speak to Gus a couple of times throughout the night. Dr. Pearson and Officer Walsh stood at the foot of my bed. At first I assumed the night nurse had pressed charges on my assault and threats, but I wasn’t prepared for what Officer Walsh told me.
“Ms. Wolf, we looked at footage from a couple of security cameras from the hotel and the night clubs that were charged on your credit card and we found this.” Officer Walsh showed me a picture of a blonde matching my height and description. “We also spoke with the front desk at the hotel. When we showed them a picture of you, they confirmed you checked in.”
Unable to believe any of it, I lay back in bed and closed my eyes. I wasn’t crazy. I knew someone had taken me. I knew that. The information that Officer Walsh was giving had to be false, incorrect, or tainted.
But I sounded like a broken record.
Since I had nothing left to take away my pain, I did the thing I thought would help. I asked Loren to remove my pillow because it was bothering my neck. One pain would cover the other.
Numb.
Slamming my tender scalp on the hard mattress repeatedly caused the 5150, along with another sedative to keep me from screaming, asking them to let me back to the unknown.
A soft knock on my door brought me back to where I was. Dr. Varrasso pushed the door opened and paraded into my room. A female nurse followed behind him. “I guess you weren’t hungry,” he joked, pushing the tray on the table. “Maybe a shower would help?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a shower, but I reeked like a dead carcass.
“Dotty here is going to escort you. Once you’re done, maybe you and I can pick up where we left off with our conversation. I know it’s your first day here and you might not want to discuss anything, but it would be beneficial if we continued out session. ”
I agreed to his terms and followed Dotty to the shower. The cheap shampoo did more damage than good to my hair, but at least it was clean. I was given a new nightgown and then brought back to my room. Dr. Varrasso was sitting on my bed waiting for me. My food tray was no longer in the room.
“Do we need to go to your office?” I asked, my hair still damp.
“No, I don’t want to force you to talk if you don’t want to. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Kennedy is a friend of mine and she asked me to watch over you.” His eyes were soft with a gentle grin.
I stalked to the bed and he rose, grabbing my pill-filled paper cup and a glass of water. “We aren’t on speaking terms at the moment.”
I pulled the covers back as I spoke, and then swallowed the pills he gave me. Though they helped me to sleep, it was never pleasant due to the nightmares that haunted me. “Can we not talk as a therapist and patient? I need a … friend, someone I can talk to.”
I wasn’t ready to be alone yet. He was Kennedy’s friend so he couldn’t be a complete douche, even if he planned on shoving happy pills down my throat.
He sat on the foot of the bed and I saw the light blue prescription pad sticking out from the pocket of his white coat. “Of course but we need to continue our therapist slash patient sessions tomorrow.”
If I could manage to get my hands on that pad, I could write my own prescriptions and block the world out. Never would I have to feel this way again. Maybe a favor for a favor.
“You think I’m going to be okay, Doc?” Through my pain and hatred I found a smirk deep within me. I needed the pad. My fingertips itched for it.
“I think you went through some traumatic events. In time, you should be as good as new.”
His hand found my leg and tapped it gently. It was more than a concerned tap, based on the way his hand lingered on my thigh. He was crossing an ethical line and we both knew that. His eyes told me he wasn’t a doctor concerned about his patient. It was a bit more and I wanted the pad.
“Do you think I’ll ever be able to have a normal relationship again? With a man, that is.”
He sat straighter on the bed. “Do you think you will?”
Get the pad, focus on the prescription pad. “Depends if it’s with the right person.” I brought my eyes down from his, looking over his lean, muscular frame. Licking my lips, I looked back up at him. “Do you find me attractive, even after all of this?”
He didn’t speak. His hands reached out towards me, moving my hair behind my ears. The touch of another man repulsed me, but I bit the inside of my mouth, letting his hand trail the outline of my chin.
“Braelynn… why didn’t Kennedy introduce me to you earlier?”
Because she knew you were never going to be my type. “I could ask you the same question.” My voice was low when I responded.
“This can’t happen. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that. I’m your doctor.” He pulled his hand away.
“I can keep a secret.” I chuckled. “And I doubt anyone would believe me at this point anyway.” I tried to joke but failed miserably. The fact no one believed me was the hardest part. I felt my eyes glass over and the tears fell when I blinked.
“Hey.” Leaning forward, he wiped them away with his thumb. “I believe you.” I closed my eyes and shook my head, hating that his hands were on me. “Braelynn, look at me.” I opened them. His brown eyes were optimistic but they didn’t make my heart pound the way certain hazel ones had. “I’ll make sure you get through this.”
I slid my tongue across my lower lip. His eyes followed my tongue before he looked up at me. His body moved forward as though he was about to kiss me. Could I do this? My hands began to tremble as I weighed the options of letting my shrink take advantage of me. I leaned forward to meet my fate, the need to get
high outweighing anything else in my mind. At the last second before my lips met his, my hand flinched, spilling the glass of water on his scrubs.
“Crap! Sorry,” I said, patting the water on his legs.
“It’s okay…I got it.” He rose from the bed and removed his white lab coat. Tossing it on the bed, he rushed over to the sink, looking for a paper towel. I saw the only opportunity I had to obtain the blue pad. I rose from the bed, shuffling through his coat until I found the pad in his inner pocket.
Rushing back, I threw my legs over the bed, shoved the pad under the pillow and secured it behind me. He fixed his pants and returned to my bed. Drawing his arms through the sleeves of his lab coat, he kept his eyes lowered. “That shouldn’t have happened, Braelynn.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” I tried to force myself to cry, but my tears had vanished. I didn’t want him notating in my file that I’d made a pass at him, but then again, I really didn’t care.
“Braelynn–”
“It will never happen again. Really. I’m sorry, Doc,” I lied through my teeth. I had what I wanted from him. But I couldn’t help the grin that crept across my face.
“I believe I should refer you to another doctor.” He proceeded to the door. Holding the handle, he stopped and looked back at me. I pulled the covers over my body, lying under the thin fabric. “Do you even know my name, Braelynn?”
“Doc.” I smiled up at him. I had no clue what his first name was.
“Do you?”
“Does it matter? You’re here to fix me I don’t need to know your name.”
“Rest up Braelynn.” His hands moved over the light switch and the room went dark. Only the hallway light made it possible to see. The door closed behind him and I secured the pad under my head. If I cooperated for the next few days, I would be home free and able to get the pills my body needed.
Braelynn
I watched my ceiling fan rotate, counting each stroke. The cool breeze brushed my skin. My nightmares had been taunting me, keeping me awake. I lay there counting the times the fan spun above my head, imagining what it would feel like if it fell down on me, the possibility of it slicing my throat open. Would I feel any pain? Or would death be instant?
I had been out of the hospital for two days and Loren and Kennedy were watching my every move. Unable to get away from them long enough to write and pick up my own prescription, I was left with no choice but to wallow in my own solace. I stared at the clock, watching time pass.
The medication that the therapist gave me was an anti-depressant. But I wasn’t depressed, I was broken. Damaged. My sister and friends didn’t believe me; they thought I had a loose screw¸ infatuated with rape.
“Due to unresolved issues, we believe she is suffering from Complex-PTSD. Since she didn’t get the proper treatment when she witnessed your uncle molesting you, we believe she has been building up ever since. The therapy she received when she was raped in college wasn’t sufficient; hence, she became obsessed with her first case assignment when she realized he had previous rape charges and turned towards drug as an outlet.”
It was my word against professional experts. Who the hell was going to believe the girl who everyone thought was crying wolf. Everyone—including Peyton.
But I knew different. I wasn’t hallucinating; I didn’t care what any doctor or specialist said. MDMA might make others hallucinate, but I knew the difference. Even when all the doctors told me that this was a product of my imagination, I knew they were wrong.
I needed the visions to leave my mind and my hollow shell not to feel the agony, and the only way I knew to make it stop was with the pills. I put on my happy face when Loren and Kennedy came into my room to mask how I felt. I smiled and spoke softly, ate the food they made for me and took the medications that I knew were pointless. I was unsalvageable.
“Brae?” Loren questioned, knocking on my door before opening it. “I’m going out to the market after I’m done with some laundry. Do you want anything special for dinner? Maybe baked potato soup?”
“I’m fine, Lo. Thanks, though.” I tucked my hands behind my head, rubbing the scar on my scalp. Feeling the scab on the tip of my fingers brought back new, haunted thoughts. I closed my fists at my side and shook my head.
She pushed the door open further before she strolled in. Sitting on the edge of my bed, she placed her hand on my thigh. “Peyton called again. He wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him, sweetie?”
“Lo, please.” I couldn’t hear about him again. He was the man who had broken my heart. “When he calls, tell him it’s over. I don’t want to see him anymore. Tell him it’s too hard to be with him. I can’t. I can’t take his doubting eyes from my thoughts. I don’t want to be with anyone at the moment. I want to be alone.” If I saw him again, I knew it would only send me into a deeper spiral of more drugs. My heart couldn’t take his doubt.
The organ in my chest—the one that pumped blood through my body; the one that beat a hundred thousand times per day—that vital organ wasn’t broken. Your heart can’t technically break, it will still continue to function and pump the necessary blood through your body. But knowing that didn’t stop the gut wrenching pain I felt in the center of my chest felt as if Peyton had dug his hand into my chest, removing my heart and tearing it in two. Breathing was difficult without the weight of bricks pressing on my torn heart.
“Okay, baby girl.”
Loren left my room, leaving me with a shattered heart and a racing mind. I had cried myself to sleep for the past few days; I didn’t know how my body was producing any more tears. I needed to get my hands on some painkillers. I jumped out of bed and took my prescription pad out. I quickly wrote down the strongest painkiller I knew of–Oxycodone–then stuffed it in my pocket before heading out to the living room.
Kennedy sat with Loren in the living room, her pictures displayed on her laptop as she explained each part of the photo and how she had retouched it to make it look better. Sitting on the decorative chair across from them, I tossed my feet on top of the coffee table.
“Hey, look who’s up.” Kennedy closed her laptop before pushing it onto the table.
Flower arrangements were scattered on every table of the room. The sweet fragrant smell bothered me. “Who are all of these from?” Though my mind hated Peyton, my heart still had an almost silent beat for him.
“Jennifer, Sara, and Gus brought one over yesterday when you were sleeping,” Loren said.
“Oh.” I tried to disguise the pain I felt in my voice. “I think I need some fresh air.”
“Why don’t you come with me to the market?” My sister jumped off the couch, seeming excited that I wanted to leave the house instead of staying locked up in my room.
“No, Lo. I think I need to clear my head. I think I’m going to go to the park, sit by the duck pond.”
“Braelynn—”
“No, let her go, Lo. It will be good for her to walk around for a bit.” Kennedy rose, walking over to me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she looked deep into my eyes. “I’m here if you need anything. You know that, right, chica?”
Swallowing back the tears that formed from her pitiful look, I nodded. I no longer knew who I was, what purpose I served.
“Hey, have you talked to your professor? His assistant left a voice message for you to call her. Maybe you can go to the office and see if they’ll give you your job back. The doctor said you need to start living a normal life again, and that the medicine will help you get back into things.”
Medicine. Ha! Thorazine and Depakote had me walking like a zombie; the cold stare that reflected back scared me to look in the mirror. Methadone was to help with the withdrawal from the painkillers. These medications weren’t going to help me, they would only maintain me. My last hope was the pad I had hidden underneath my drawer. A constant reminder that it was only a few short days before I could sneak away from them was all that kept me going, all t
hat allowed me to focus and not succumb to the zombie-like drugs.
“No, I didn’t call him. I really doubt he wants to give me my job back.” I sighed. “It’s also hard to ask for your job back when everyone thinks your story is a product of your imagination—as the doctors called it.” I shrugged my shoulders when Loren’s smile faded.
I sat back on the couch to slide my feet into my sneakers, then grabbed my keys from the bowl near the door.
“Do you want me to come with?” Loren asked, her sad eyes filled with worry. I couldn’t tolerate the pain I was causing her.
“Loren, I need to be able to leave the house. I need you to let me. And not follow me. I’m okay. I’m taking my medication and there’s no need for you to watch over me. I’m a big girl. Plus, Kennedy is off for the next two weeks.” The board had suspended her for two weeks, followed by a horrible schedule as punishment for giving me the morphine. “Besides, I’m sure Jennifer needs you back.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. Opening the front door, I stepped into the bright sun before I slammed it behind me.
The warm Manhattan air tingled on my skin. Since my eyes were still sensitive to light, I kept my head lowered before I found shade under the tree. I held my hands over my eyes, opening them slowly so they could adjust to the bright day. My eyes focused on a gum wrapper, a soda can, and pieces of glass that were at the edge of the curb, then a tiny sparkle of purple shone up at me and my heart froze.
My hands slapped over my chest when I realized I was a few steps away from the light post—the light post where it had all happened. The last time I was me. I leaned against the tree as I gasped for air. The visions that haunted me weren’t hallucinations. They were real.
I needed to get away.
I needed to be as far away from this place as possible.
From this hell I was living in.
I ran towards Madison Avenue. The yellow cabs invaded the streets of Manhattan. Stepping out on the concrete, I raised my hand in the air, shouting with every bit of strength I had left.
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