“It’s okay,” I said. “Whatever.”
“Did you guys hear the crazy screaming in there?” Kaitlin leaned in, nearly falling forward.
“What the fuck? Yes,” Nick shouted. “That scared the shit out of me. I thought someone was being killed. By slow torture.”
Tom stepped closer, reminding us he was even there. “That’s the weather vane at the top of the bakery. The orderlies used to call it the ‘Mascot of the Laughing Academy’.” He pointed to the peak of the historic brick building attached to the side of the dining facility. “It spins with the gusts. The stronger the wind, the faster it moves. Hasn’t been oiled in decades, so yeah, it squeaks and well, screams, you could say.”
I stared at the rusted weather vane that leaned, crooked, off the highest gable of the building. I hated it. It had scarred my soul with a profound fear that settled permanently deep in my bones. I’d never felt such terror, and I would never forget it.
“What does that mean? Laughing Academy?” I asked Tom.
“You know, it was insulting slang, like ‘loony bin’ or ‘funny farm’. Ignorance, really.” He shrugged.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the tree above us. It picked up in strength, and I watched the branches sway. Moving my gaze back to the weather vane, I waited.
The wind blew harder.
The weather vane remained silent.
I shot a perplexed gaze back at Tom.
But he was gone again.
I searched in every direction, frantic to find where Tom had gone and exhaled in relief as I saw him strolling down the road toward a different building. Ward B, its fading sign said.
My natural instinct was to follow him. I took a few steps in his direction, but Kaitlin grabbed on to me.
“Stop,” she begged. “I can’t. I need to get home now.”
I kept my eyes fixed on Tom.
“Please, Grace.” She tugged on my arm.
Braden stepped up next to me. “I think she’s right,” he said. “You guys need to rest. It’s been a lot.”
“Pretty cool, though,” Nick added. “You have to admit.”
Kaitlin and Braden were right. It was time to go. Too much had happened. Too many complex ideas were blasting through my mind. I couldn’t organize all the racing thoughts and flashing images that spiraled in my head. I just needed to rest. To settle everything around me so I could focus on the immense concepts bouncing around in my skull.
“Yeah, okay,” I agreed. Swiveling toward Tom, I yelled, “Bye, Tom! Thank you.” And I waved. But he didn’t flinch or turn around to us. He just kept walking toward Ward B. I shrugged. “Let’s go.”
We walked along the cracked, crumbling road back toward the drive we entered from. I stared at the administration building near the entryway, and chills ran through me as I imagined what it would be like to be evaluated in there. The struggles of adolescence alone were enough to get someone sectioned back then.
Crying for no understood reason, explosive emotions, defiance to social expectations, sexual curiosity—they were all acceptable reasons back then, to get a girl sent away against her will. I actually felt bad for any of the girls who were sent to the asylum. Clearly, their parents hadn’t understood what they were going through. Possession, witchcraft, or insanity were the easiest explanations for teen angst in the early 1900s.
I studied the front door to the admin building. Its crumbling concrete steps barely held their form. The wooden architectural decor fell away from the moldings, but they were still held strong by solid white pillars. Then my attention snapped to a featureless building next to it. Set near the chapel. Devoid of any architectural detail, it emanated anguish and suffering.
My head tipped for a better look, but then a piercing pain shot through my skull. I squinted my eyes, pressing my fingers on them to stop the deep ache behind them. It felt as if the nerves behind my eyes were on fire. ‘Ocular headaches’ my doctor called them—to be expected from recovering head trauma.
I scurried to catch up to the others, but I couldn’t help myself from gazing back at the ominous building. It scared me. Like it knew I had discovered its presence, but it wanted to remain unseen. A sinister feeling moved through my body, and I feared for any girl who ever had to enter it. Her terror must have been unreal.
“We need to come back here again,” Braden said. “This place is cool.”
“I’ll bring my dab pen,” Nick added. “Imagine this place high.”
Jesus. That was the last thing I’d ever do here. It blew my mind enough sober. I’d lose my sanity if I ever came here high.
I glanced at Kaitlin, and she shook her head at me as if saying, “Hell no.”
I nodded in agreement, ready to leave all of this far behind us. I was officially exhausted and shaken to the core. Something had rattled me. Deeply. And I was left with a sense of disturbance that unsettled my soul.
It was as if there was a presence here. An entity that wanted to make itself known. It pulled at me, drawing my attention to doorways of specific buildings.
I needed to come back to understand it better, but I squeezed my eyes shut in resistance. But it was too late. My mind was already made up.
I was coming back here again with Kaitlin. Only Kaitlin.
The guys rambled nonstop on the drive home, recapping every detail of the visit to the asylum, while Kaitlin and I sat silently in the backseat. We stared ahead with blank expressions like we were traumatized. We’d pushed ourselves too far. We needed rest or we’d regress in our recoveries, or so we were told. But rest was the last thing I wanted to do.
Braden pulled up to my house, and Kaitlin and I climbed out.
“Thanks, guys,” I said with the last bit of energy I could muster. “That was…” I searched for the right word. “Unexpected.”
“See ya later,” Braden called before driving off.
Kaitlin and I dragged ourselves up the front walk toward my door, then I noticed my mother’s car in the driveway.
“Shit! My mother’s home,” I grumbled.
Before we even set foot on the porch, the door flew open.
“Where the hell have you been?” she blasted. “Why haven’t you responded to my texts?”
When I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I realized it was dead.
“Sorry, Mom,” I said. “My phone died, I guess.”
“And you turned your tracking off?” She glared.
“Oh, I forgot about that.” I shook my head in confusion. She was throwing too much energy at me, and I was beyond spent. “I’ll turn it back on.”
I preferred to keep my tracking off. She was the only one who truly stalked me. And today, I hadn’t even wanted her to know I’d left the house. Let alone embarked on a full-blown haunted adventure.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” she stated. “Kaitlin, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go home now. You should be in bed, too, you know.”
Kaitlin dropped her eyes to the ground. My mother intimidated her, and she could hardly look her in the eye. Ever.
Before long, Kaitlin’s mom arrived and took her home. But not before we’d agreed to Facetime later. We had a ridiculous amount to talk about, but not with our mothers anywhere nearby.
I made a move to go hide in my room, but Mom stopped me.
“Look at me,” she said.
I lifted my reluctant gaze to hers as if being inspected by a warden.
“Your eyes are bloodshot,” she said. “Have you been smoking that funny stuff again? It’s of the devils, you know. Meant to distract you and create deviance.”
“No, Mom.” I couldn’t keep the annoyance out of my voice. “I’m not high. I don’t smoke weed. I’ve told you that.”
“Then why are your eyes so red?” She leaned in for a better look.
“I’m tired. I’m concussed. I have a headache the size of Jupiter,” I said with as much snark as possible.
“Well, I told you that you should be resting,” she shot back.
Her shrill voice cut into my brain, toppling me over the edge. Bending, I smacked my hands over my eyes to stop the blinding light from entering them. It was like two red hot pokers were driving through my eyeballs into my brain. I screamed out in mind-numbing pain.
“Grace…” my mother called from what seemed like a million miles away. “What is it?” she cried out.
I writhed on the floor, pressing my hands against my eyes. For a moment, I swiped my hands away and tried to blink through the pain. In a blast of pure terror, I saw only darkness.
“Mom! I can’t see,” I screamed.
“Holy Jesus, I’m calling 911!” And her voice faded in and out as I begged for someone to help me.
Chapter 7
My eyelids flickered from the bright light that taunted them. The pain behind my eyes was gone, and my jaw had unclenched from its vice grip. I prayed I would never feel that level of pain again in my entire life. Then I remember the blindness and my eyes shot open.
Light poured into my pupils, and images of a hospital room filled my sight. Tears poured from the relief that overwhelmed me. I was okay. I was safe.
“Mom?” My voice squeaked out of me.
“Oh, thank Christ.” Her voice came from the far corner of the room where she’d been resting in the vinyl armchair. She barreled over to me, staring deeply into my eyes. “Thank Jesus and the grace of God.”
“I’m okay,” I mumbled, already annoyed by her holy-roller comments. “How long have I been here?”
“Overnight,” she said. “It’s lunchtime now. They gave you a sedative, and you slept. They took an MRI, but the results were normal.” She paused. “They say your head injury caused the temporary blindness. Like an intense migraine.”
“Could it happen again?” I reached for my head and rubbed it.
“They say you need to rest,” she said. “You overexerted yourself and brought it on.”
I was sure she’d just been dying to say that last part. Like it was my own fault. She loved being right and having the last word. I was too tired to argue so I let her have that one. I was only glad it was over. Temporary blindness was terrifying, and I never, ever wanted to know that feeling again.
“When can I go home?” I asked.
“They want to keep you one more day for observation,” she said. “Then, with God’s help, you can go.”
I dropped my head back on my pillow. An extra day of forced rest couldn’t hurt, I supposed, but I’d definitely rather be in my own room.
“Does Kaitlin know?” I murmured.
“Yes. I called her mother,” Mom said. “To be sure she kept a close eye on her. Wouldn’t want the same thing happening to her, you know.”
I knew she could see my exasperation splashed across my face. She always got too involved and loved making decisions for other people, giving direction at every turn.
I searched the side table for my phone.
“It’s here.” Mom dug in her purse, then pulled out a charger as well. “It probably needs to charge.” She fumbled at the wall for a plug. “But the doctor says minimal screen time. So I’ll keep it over…”
“No, Mom,” I interrupted. “I’ll keep it right here with me.” I lightened my tone with my next breath. “But I’ll be sure to only use it a little.”
She hesitated about placing it within my reach but then gave in. “Fine. Keep the brightness on the lowest setting.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I knew she meant well, but she needed to take some time for self-examination, to see why so many people avoided her and well, just didn’t want to be around her. Me included.
“I’ll get the doctor.” She stepped toward the half-open door. “She told me to alert someone when you woke.”
The moment she was out the door, I powered up my phone. It took its time coming to life, but once it did, my notifications went crazy. A gazillion texts from Kaitlin as she begged me to reply. Then some from Braden checking in to see how I was. The last one from Kaitlin said, “Your mom called mine. I hope you’re okay. I’ll visit tomorrow.”
My feet danced at the end of my bed. I’d love a visit from Kaitlin. We had so much to talk about still.
I texted her back. “Come now!”
The next hour was filled with me getting poked and checked by nurses and the doctor. Everyone seemed pleased with my stable condition to the point where Mom decided to go home for a while, after much encouragement from me. I told her I wanted to sleep for the rest of my time there.
Soon after everyone had found more interesting distractions, I sat in my bed, anxiously awaiting Kaitlin. And before long, my door creaked open and a balloon poked through first. Followed by an unexpected visitor.
Braden.
Braden poked his head into my room, waiting for an invitation to come all the way in.
“Hi.” I smiled, instinctively combing my hair with my fingers.
He stepped farther in, fumbling with the balloon as it blocked his way. “Hey.” He swatted at the plump ‘Get Well’ balloon that was determined to come between us. “I wanted to check in on you,” he said.
“Aww. That’s sweet,” I teased. “It’s kind of dumb I’m here, though. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I know.” He stood at the edge of my bed, fidgeting. “I just thought you could use some company.” He looked everywhere but at me.
“I like the balloon.” I smirked.
He followed the pink string in his hand, raising his head to see the floating greeting. “Okay. It’s dumb. But I didn’t want to walk in here empty-handed.”
“No, really,” I said. “I like it.”
And I did. It was goofy and childish. But it was cute. And nice.
He hovered and shifted his weight from one foot to another.
“You can drag that chair over if you want.” I pointed to a folding chair by the far wall.
“Oh, okay.” When he went for the chair, the balloon got stuck on the edge of the open door. He pulled at it, and it tangled on the doorknob. “What the hell? This thing doesn’t like me.” He finally unraveled it and tied it to the end of my bed, stepping away as if it would try to get back to him.
He dragged the chair over, avoiding the hovering balloon, and sat by my bedside.
I glanced at his face as he kept his eyes on the balloon. He’d had a huge glow-up in the final year of high school, and I hadn’t noticed until now. His handsome features were more mature and chiseled, and any signs of acne were long gone. My head tipped as I saw him in a new light.
Butterflies tickled at my stomach, and I quickly cleared my wandering thoughts. What the hell? It was Braden. I slapped myself back to reality.
“How did you even know I was here?” I asked.
He turned his attention from the balloon. “Kaitlin told me,” he said. “She was a little freaked out, you could say.”
“Figures.” I tried to imagine what went down when my mother contacted hers. She probably panicked them about the blindness. “What’d she say?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “She was breathing hard into the phone, and she couldn’t keep her thoughts straight. Like, she rambled the entire time.”
“Typical Kaitlin,” I added. “She gets a little hysterical sometimes.”
“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.” He grinned, lifting his eyebrows.
He dropped his gaze and checked his phone. Then he scanned the room. There was something else on his mind, I was sure. He was always a bit nervous around me, but today was different. He was right on the edge, teetering.
“That was weird yesterday,” I said.
He moved his gaze back to me and settled there. He pulled his chair a little closer. “Yeah. What the hell was that?”
“What do you mean? What part?” I asked.
“The part where you, you know…” He hesitated. “Left me.”
“In the dining hall?” I asked. “That was for pure survival.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He glanced out the window and then back at
me. “The part where you were like, in a trance.”
My eyes widened as I considered how it must have looked to Braden when I had my strange visions at the asylum. My head had been playing tricks on me, causing me to stare at flashbacks that didn’t exist, but to Braden, it probably appeared like I was possessed or something.
“That’s embarrassing,” I mumbled.
“What?” He sat up straighter. “No, it’s not. It was just…weird.”
“I think it’s just my head. They said I’d need more time to rest,” I tried to explain. “Like, I would have mini shutdowns, kind of.”
I did my best to make sense of it, but I was just as confused as him. What I’d seen at the asylum haunted me. The vision of the girl hanging from the tree was scary, but the feelings that coursed through me were even worse. Feeling of deep sadness and despair. It had felt so real and strong. The feeling terrified me by its pure magnitude. It held the power to make someone not want to carry on. Escaping it was my primary focus.
He fixed on my eyes for a moment, causing me to feel self-conscious. What was he trying to see?
Just as I was about to pull my eyes away from his, the door swung open, blowing the balloon at us. Braden swatted at it as if it were attacking him, and I burst out laughing.
A nurse walked in, pushing a cart of medical equipment along with her. “Oh, I’m glad to see you’re in good humor,” she said. “Alert and laughing.”
I smiled at her.
“You’ve made a good recovery, Grace,” she added. “Your chart says you came in here in rough shape last night.”
“Yeah, I don’t remember much of it,” I said.
“Just as well, I suppose.” She took a pressure cuff off the cart, then clipped something to the end of my finger. After she wrapped the cuff around my arm, it began squeezing. “I just need to take your vitals. I’m sure it’s all fine,” she explained. “Open.” She placed a thermometer in my mouth.
I rolled my eyes at Braden. He smirked and looked away.
The Shuttered Ward Page 6
