by Tom Kavanagh
I knew something was wrong as soon as I landed. There was a sharp pain in my ankle, followed by a dull ache. I could see the light in the toilet turn on, and so hobbled back towards the wall, sinking down as far as I could. Once the light had turned off again, I limped towards the main entrance, barely able to put pressure on my ankle.
“Are you okay?” Rebecca asked as I slowly made my way towards her.
“I’m fine. I think I just twisted my ankle a bit. It’ll be alright.”
“Are you sure? Maybe we should go back? If we go back now, then they might take it easy on us, especially if you hurt your foot.”
“We can’t go back now. No way. Have you got the keys?”
“Yeah, I got them. Do you need help getting to the gate?”
“No, I should be alright if we take it easy.”
I’d already wasted valuable time with my miscalculation, and so we didn’t have long until the night-shift nurses arrived. I staggered as quickly as I could down the gravel driveway, trying not to make too much noise. Rebecca looked back towards the centre every few seconds, terrified that we might get caught.
After an agonizing walk, we had made it to the gate. Rebecca retrieved the keys from her pocket and began the laborious task of trying to find the correct key for the lock. With each wrong key, the tension grew. We were quickly running out of time.
“None of these keys work on the gate!” Rebecca whispered harshly, trying to use the same key she’d picked first.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve tried them all. None of them work. It must be controlled by the front desk.”
“Damn . . . Okay, we’re just going to have to climb.”
“Climb? You can’t be serious.”
“Do you want to get caught?”
Rebecca looked back at the centre.
“Fine. But how are you going to get over?”
“I’ll be okay; you just worry about yourself.”
Even though we were in a dire situation, I couldn’t help but look at Rebecca and let out a little chuckle. With her big bag on her back, she looked like a tortoise, and even moved like one, too. It was slow going, but we were both making our way up, occasionally losing our footing on the slick bars. But we managed to make it to the top without having another fall, and it seemed as if we were home free.
And then, just as my first leg was over the top of the gate and I could practically taste freedom in the night air, a blinding light shone in my face, dashing my hopes.
“Get down from there right now!”
It was Nurse Smith, and by the tone of her voice, I could tell it was in our best interest to get down as soon as possible.
We both climbed back down the gate as quickly as we possibly could, helped in part by the two nurses that had flanked Nurse Smith like mob cronies would behind their mob boss.
“What on earth is going on here?”
We both looked at each other, not knowing what we were going to say. We hadn’t come up with a cover story, and even if we had, it was unlikely they’d believe it, having just found us both halfway up the front gate.
“I’ll tell you what it looks like to me. It looks like you’re trying to run away. It looks as if you’re rejecting all the help that we’ve given you. It looks like you were prepared to worry your parents near to death. Is that what it is? Hm?”
We didn’t say a word. There was nothing we could say now. All we could do was take the full brunt of Nurse Smith’s fury and hope that we survived till the morning.
“Well, it doesn’t seem we’ll be getting a clear answer tonight, does it? I think it’s time we all got back to bed. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, Nurse Smith.”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“Miss?”
“Yes, Rebecca.”
“Isabelle has hurt her ankle.”
“It’s nothing, really. I think I just twisted it.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Let’s get you looked at, and then it’s straight to bed. Understand?”
“Yes, Nurse Smith.”
I limped back to the centre with the help of Nurse Smith. It felt strange accepting help from the person I was trying to run away from, and even stranger that she was helping me at all. The centre doors closed behind us, and once again we were trapped in a place neither of us wanted to be in. As Rebecca and I parted ways, we both looked at each other, knowing that despair was rising within us, but knowing we could count on each other if anything were to ever happen.
I was taken to the nurses’ room and was checked over by Nurse Smith. Luckily I had only sprained it, and so didn’t have to deal with the anxiety that came with having to go to the hospital. Nurse Smith didn’t say anything as she wrapped my ankle, and I was happy that she didn’t. I welcomed the silence like an old friend and listened to the sound of my own breathing, helping me to remember I was still alive.
* * * * *
“What on earth were you thinking?”
Nurse Smith had wasted no time the next morning in calling me into her office. I hated going to her office. Nobody ever went there for a good reason; it was always to get told off for something you’d done or even for things she only thought you had done. There was something sinister about her surroundings. She had stripped her office of everything personal, save for just a few mementos, but even these seemed to lack genuine sentimental value. Other than those few items, the office was filled with warning posters, each one telling you the many ways you could get injured or killed. She was a stickler for rules and safety, and had wrapped herself in a cocoon of them.
“What did you think was going to happen? You could have frozen to death out there.”
“I know, Nurse Smith. It was silly of us.”
“Silly? Silly? No, silliness is acting out by pulling some sort of prank or some such nonsense. This isn’t silliness; this was . . . well, I’m not even sure what it was.”
“It’s just that I’ve been finding it difficult to adjust, and I just cracked, I guess.”
“But what about the little chat we had? I thought that this behaviour was behind us.”
“I thought so, too. Nurse Smith, I know that I don’t deserve another chance, but could you please not tell my dad? Not for my sake, but for his. He’s so stressed what with me and the farm and everything. He doesn’t need this on his shoulders, too.”
“I wouldn’t want to cause your father any more stress, but this was serious. And it could have been a lot more serious if we hadn’t caught you.”
“But you did. And we’re fine.”
“And what about your ankle? I’ve already called him and made him aware that you hurt it during an ‘incident.’ I said that I would tell him all the details when he comes in today, but what am I going to say then?”
“I’ll say it was my fault. I tripped over while playing with Rebecca. And I’ll say that you and the staff were amazing.”
I could see Nurse Smith was considering the ramifications of this lie in her head and that she was leaning more towards telling my dad. I needed to appeal to her better nature, the part of her that was willing to bend just a little bit.
“Please, Nurse Smith. Please. It would mean so much to me.”
For a few more tense moments, she was silent, making the final few calculations in her head.
“Fine. On this occasion I will keep it confidential. But if anything negative, and I do mean anything negative, happens while you’re here, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Nurse Smith. I understand.”
“Please send in Rebecca on your way back to your room.”
“I will. Thank you again.”
Leaving Nurse Smith’s office was like waking up after a bad dream. I could finally breathe again, and hoped that I’d never have to go in there again. Rebecca was sitting just to the right of the door, her hands grasped so tightly together that her knuckles were turning white.
“You’re up,�
� I said, hoping that this wouldn’t send her into a panic.
“Was it bad? Please tell me it wasn’t bad. I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Nah, it was okay. She’ll have a go, but you’ll be fine. Honestly.”
“Is she going to tell your dad about your ankle?”
“Well he kind of already knows, but she won’t tell him how it happened. Anyway, I need to go. My dad’s coming soon, and I need to get ready.”
“Wish me luck?”
“Good luck. Wish me luck?”
“Good luck.”
I could almost feel Rebecca’s anxiety as she made her way into Nurse Smith’s office. I didn’t envy her. I had already been through that pain and wasn’t looking to ever go back. But I couldn’t worry about Rebecca right now. Dad was coming in soon, and so I would have to lie about how I injured myself and hope he would believe me.
I spent the next hour cleaning my room and preparing myself for his arrival. Every few minutes, I’d run through the lie in my head, playing out every possible scenario for every possible question. There was a part of me that knew it was useless. As soon as Dad came, I’d be scrambling to remember what I’d practiced and would likely go down in flames.
By the time he got to the centre, I doubted myself more than ever. If this didn’t go well and he saw through my lie, there would be hell to pay, not just for me, but for Nurse Smith and Rebecca, too. All I could do was hope that I didn’t crumble under the pressure.
“Isabelle?” Dad said as he walked into the room.
I had my leg up on a pillow, hoping that he would see it and feel pity for me.
“Hi, Dad.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m a lot better. The medication really seems to be helping.”
“Great. I’m glad to hear that. And how’s your ankle? Looks like you really did a number on it.”
“It’s okay, just a little bit sore. I’m sure it’ll be alright in a few days.”
“What happened? Nurse Smith was pretty vague.”
“Oh. Well, my friend Rebecca and me were outside running around, hitting this ball around, and I tripped and sprained my ankle.”
“What did you trip on?”
“It was just the uneven ground.”
“They should really take better care of their fields. They turn into death traps if you don’t keep on top of it. I have a mind to go and talk to this Nurse Smith that you keep talking about.”
Dad was enunciating, which meant he was worried. He always hated coming to these types of centres; they made him anxious. He’d never been good with my condition, especially when it got this bad.
“So, where’s Mary?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject, trying to force out a smile as I did. I needed to be on my best behaviour; if I acted out, Nurse Smith would tell my dad, and then the shit would really hit the fan.
“She wanted to come, but with working on the farm, she’s very busy. She wanted me to give you these brownies, though,” he replied, dashing my hopes that they had broken up since my little outburst.
He popped the plate full of brownies on my bedside table, its covering of cling film the only thing protecting me from whatever poison she’d cooked into them.
“Thanks . . .”
“Do you not want one?”
“I’m not hungry, just had breakfast. But I’ll save them. Thank Mary for me.”
“Okay. Well, I better dash off—need to get some stuff done on the farm. But I’ll be back again soon, Isabelle. Hopefully I’ll be able to take you home soon. But until then, remember to call me if you need to chat; I’m always at the other end.”
“Thanks. I will.”
I threw the brownies into the bin shortly after Dad left. I couldn’t take any chances. She might have put pills inside the brownies—or something worse. And then all of this lying would be for nothing. I couldn’t risk it.
Once again I could relax. I’d been through the meeting with Nurse Smith and survived, and now had met my dad and survived that, too. For a little while, I could breathe deeply and not have to feel a knot in my stomach growing every second. Although I did begin to feel a slight trepidation as time passed and Rebecca still hadn’t got out of Nurse Smith’s office. My meeting with her had been relatively quick, so I didn’t understand why it was taking so long with Rebecca.
The knot in my stomach grew exponentially as I realised it had been an hour since the meeting had started. I paced up and down my room, occasionally leaving to see whether her office was empty. After another half an hour, I made my way down the hallway, opened the double doors, and caught a glimpse of Rebecca leaving the office. As she came up the stairs, I cornered her, desperately wanting to know what had gone on in that hour and a half.
“How did your meeting with Nurse Smith go?”
“Fine.”
“That’s it? You were in there for an hour and a half. I got a talking-to for ten minutes. How did you get off so lightly after such a long talk?”
“Well . . .”
“It must have used a pretty good lie to get you out of trouble.”
“It wasn’t really that good . . .”
“What do you mean?”
“Well . . .”
“Rebecca, what did you say to Nurse Smith?”
“I told her that it was all your fault.”
“You did what?”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t want her to tell my dad that it was my fault. He would have been really mad. She also told me that my review was happening tomorrow! After all this waiting and wondering when it’s going to be, she goes and tells me it’s tomorrow. And even with this little setback, she said that they might send me home.”
“You don’t sound particularly happy about that.”
“I don’t really want them to send me home. I’m just not better yet . . .”
“Then why did you tell them it was me? Surely it being partly your fault helps your case?”
“I said it before she told me about the meeting. If I had known, I wouldn’t have said it. I was just so worried about my dad finding out.”
“But wait a second, why didn’t you tell me that you didn’t want to leave?”
“It seemed like you really wanted to get out, and I didn’t want you to go alone. I was worried that you would get hurt or something. I thought it was better that we did it together. And either way, I would have probably ended back up here anyway. I’m really sorry I blamed this all on you, Isabelle.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have forced you into something you didn’t want to do. Look, they won’t send you home if you aren’t better.”
“They’ve done it before. They need to free up the rooms for new patients. It all comes down to money at the end of the day, and my parents probably won’t want to pay another full month of care for me if the doctors say that I’m better.”
“Just tell them that you aren’t better. They can’t force you to go.”
“I guess . . .”
“Stand your ground and don’t let them push you into something like I did. Okay?”
“Okay. I think I’m going to go and get some rest. This whole thing has tired me out. Plus I’ve got a counselling session later. See you at dinner?”
“Sure. See you then.”
The day passed by without any more drama. Things ticked over like they usually did. There was medication, lunch, medication, and then dinner—the same as it had always been. Rebecca and I didn’t talk much during dinner. I think it was because she was preoccupied with her meeting the next day. She was visibly worried, and I didn’t know how to calm her down. I just told her that I would be there for her and that I would try my best to help her if I could.
We parted ways that night full of anxiety, which led to a restless night’s sleep full of tossing and turning. I had only been able to sleep for maybe an hour, and even that was full of nightmares in which Rebecca was dragged away by them, their ghostly, shadowy arms too strong to fight against.
&n
bsp; I rushed to Rebecca’s room the next morning, wondering whether it really had been just a nightmare or whether they really had taken her.
I knocked at the door, my fist hammering harder and harder as each second passed without a response. I tried the handle and found that it was open. I wished that she had been asleep or listening to music and that she just hadn’t heard me.
But as I walked inside, I saw that she wasn’t there, and all of her stuff was gone.
She’d said she wasn’t feeling any better and that she would try and stay for a few more weeks. But now she was gone.
Had they got rid of her?
Maybe she was too sick to help them, so it was just easier to get rid of her.
I had spent a long time planning how to get out of here, but was I any safer out there than I was in here?
Was I more exposed out in the real world?
Were there fewer places to hide from them?
I didn’t want to find out, but I feared that time was running out and that eventually I would find out for myself.
Ten
A Slash in Defence
“We think you’re ready to go home, Isabelle.”
From the moment Nurse Smith had asked me to see her early that morning, I knew something hadn’t been right. It had been three days since Rebecca left the centre, and I had been on tenterhooks ever since. I’d been sitting in my room most of the time, simply waiting for them to come and take me away like they had done to Rebecca in my horrible nightmare—and as it turned out, in real life, too. I don’t think my heart had slowed down since I’d opened Rebecca’s door and found that she’d been taken away.
There was something in the way Nurse Smith had grinned at me before our talk, like she’d put the finishing touches on a scheme that she couldn’t wait to put into effect. She hadn’t liked me from day one and had been gunning for me to go ever since I tried to escape the centre. She blamed me, and was only proven right, in her own mind, when Rebecca lied and told her it was in fact my fault.
