Emmaline’s Story 16

Image

Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 16

Hell Day

 

Emma-Hell Day

 

 

I dragged my hurting ass to breakfast the next morning.  Aching from head to toe, I straightened my posture determined not to give goon one iota of satisfaction.

 

Danica watched me take a tray and walk stiffly to the table.

 

“Geezzze, Em’, you look like death. Are you okay?”

 

“Oh sure,” I ground out, “Nothing a year long, hot bath won’t fix.”

 

Perched before another poor excuse for food, I mused wistfully, “Oh, do you remember baths; dropping into warmth and soaking away your pain?”

 

Danica touched my shoulder and whispered, “Tonight we hunt. We’ll find something that you can soak in, Em.”

 

Slapping on a smile I didn’t feel, I prepared for hell day. Almost immediately, psych guy appeared calling my name, “Emmaline!”

 

Shit. Here we go again.

 

Without flinching, I raised my hand, “Present!”

 

“Be present in my office in fifteen minutes,” He said angrily, as he walked away without so much as ‘hello, goodbye, or kiss my ass.’

 

Helen shot an unnerved look at me, “They know it was us.”

 

“No way,” I confided, “it’s not about that.”

 

“What then,” she drilled me.

 

“Suffice it to say, the score is, us: 3, them: 1,” I informed her, wincing every time I moved a muscle.

 

“What? Did you do something last night?”

 

She looked worried sick and I half-feared she would spontaneously combust, so I did my best to ease her tension, “It was nothing. I can hardly believe they noticed.”

 

Danica jabbed a spork into flapjacks, shaking her head, and I was suddenly riddled with guilt. I broke down and told them, “I just left a teeny, tiny, little message on the scrolling marquee last night. It was nothing, really.”

 

Helen finally smiled, saying, “Besides, they have an elevator to lasso!”

 

“Atta girl,” I encouraged her.

 

She grinned but her face fell as she eyed her breakfast with despair.

 

I leaned in and said, “I have to face psych guy already. You can do this.”

 

I stood to go and then turned to wait. She cut off a piece and popped it into her mouth trying not to show her distaste, while I hid how badly I felt for her. Before I could rethink it, I grabbed my spork, jabbed it into her breakfast, and shoveled a big piece of her meal into my mouth.

 

I must have turned six shades of green just trying not to wretch. Helen laughed right out loud. The sound of her laughter made me feel brand new. Even Danica and Marie were joking and laughing. I walked to the inner sanctum mentally patting myself on the back.

 

When I arrived at psych guy’s office the door was closed. At times like this, he really grated on my nerves. I stood there thinking over my predicament,

 

I can knock. I should knock. It’s his office, but he showed me no zero respect in front of everyone in the community room, and I didn’t get to eat breakfast!

 

Finally, I grabbed the doorknob, twisted and barged in, and flounced into my usual chair declaring loudly, “Present!”

 

“So you are,” he mumbled into his palm, unimpressed.

 

“Sir, yes sir,” I saluted him not bothering to stand. Even my bruises felt like they had bruises.

 

Mercilessly, he stated the obvious, “It would seem you’re not quite up to your usual standards, soldier.”

 

I rested my head on my hand, nearly crumbling. His stare burned into me. He was just waiting for me to break, to disintegrate into dust so he could be rid of his problem; me.

 

Smug bastard!

 

“What is it, Emma?”

 

“Emma,” I shrieked, “Don’t you dare presume to call me by a familiar name! You dont know me and I don’t trust you! You haven’t earned my trust and neither has any of the staff! You fire off your orders, not once considering that we’re all here for a reason. A profoundly ugly reason! If I gave a shit, I’d ask what your major malfunction is, but to be perfectly blunt, I couldn’t possibly care less than I do at this very second!”

 

I gave him no quarter, not even a space of breath to interject anything before I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. To my stunned disbelief, he didn’t follow.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 
© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM – All Rights Reserved
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected JBPJ-G2PL-1FZR-4EGU

Advertisements

Emmaline’s Story 13

Video

Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 13

Small Disasters

 

 

From psych guy’s office I wandered to the porch and, took a seat. I turned to the girls, talking boisterously, and I touched Danica’s finger, saying, “Tonight. Right?”

 

She nodded and I strolled out to the fence. No longer feeling apprehension and terror, I wondered if things really can change. God knows I’ve had ample evidence to the contrary.

 

Immediately, I dismissed the thought as I contemplated the change in Maya. She seemed so clean, so clear-headed, as though her twisted mind had been unknotted. She even walked differently, with assurance of self and shoulders squared.

 

Then I realized what I was thinking. No shit! I’m envious? I envy her? Holy cow pies!

 

I felt startled and shaken to the depths of me, when I saw Danica cresting the hill searching. This time I got up to close the gap. Meeting her half way down, I asked her about my prior conclusion, suggesting, “Sis, I know I said we should only talk at night, but, if it’s okay with you, I’d like us to talk whenever the coast is clear.

 

“Yes! Yay,” she smiled.

 

I locked our fingers and we headed back. Upon reaching the porch we all sat talking about the crappy food, and lousy mattresses atop makeshift, metal bedframes, and I made it a point to pay special attention to Helen.

 

We had staggered our meetings and I was sure there were times when she must have felt left out. She didn’t get to share a room with us and she had to eat the crappiest, sugarless foods while watching us receive the semi-normal foods, but I had a surprise up my sleeve. I touched her finger and asked, “Bathroom at two a.m. break?”

 

Having listened in, Danica and Marie broke into huge smiles. Marie asked, “Is it time? You have,” and quickly lowered her voice, “the tools?”

 

I nodded, saying, “I think so. I’ll show them to Helen tonight. You’ll know if they will work. Right?”

 

“Yea! You bet ya,” she exclaimed.

 

We were filled with glee and hiding it in silence when I turned to find goon standing against the door, holding it slightly ajar. It was too obvious she was spying. At this point, silence was the kiss of death, so I hid my arm in front of me and pointed back at goon, making an ugly frown.

 

Marie took the cue, “Helen, your hair is so silky. How do you keep it like that?”

 

Helen glanced quickly at goon and replied, “Well I don’t have the usual tools here, but I tend to stick with shampoo that has,” she stopped short not knowing the scientific words for the products and finished, “softening agents in them and I use a detangler. Oh and never brush wet hair,” she cautioned.

 

With my back to the door I grinned at them, knowing they had just saved us some unneeded grief.

 

“I’ll look up the softening agents for you,” Helen continued, “as soon as possible.”

 

I saw Marie and Helen relax and looked back to see that goon had gone on her way. I dragged the back of my hand over my forehead, saying, “Whew! That was close!”

 

All the girls mumbled that goon was onto us. I didn’t want to scare them, but it was an inescapable fact.

 

“Yes, I know,” I warned, “We have to be more cautious from now on.”

 

“Are you sure this is wise,” Helen asked.

 

I smiled snickering, “Of course not, but what other fun do we have here, unless you really enjoy broken crayons and ancient crossword puzzles?”

 

All three grimaced and grumbled about how little was made available to do.

 

“That reminds me, I haven’t written any lousy prose for big B lately,” I said, lost in thought.

 

Everyone leaned in to touch my finger and Helen laughed,”Let’s all remember to bow and give thanks to the television gods for access to a TV!”

 

“I guess you guys are as bored as I am,” I said.

 

“Well yea, that,” Marie hinted, “and you haven’t breathed a word about psych guy.”

 

I turned to my opposite side knowing Danica hadn’t even told the girls and gave her a thankful wink.

 

“Okay. I’ll say what I’m able to tonight but use extra caution. Okay?”

 

They nodded affirmatively and we filed inside for dinner.

 

I stared at the slab of turkey breast on my plate, recently frozen and thawed to eat, with think globs of gravy on top of sliced bread. Trying not to wretch, I considered Helen. I was certain the meal must look like heaven to her, so I dug in vigorously, cut off a huge helping and shoveled it into my mouth.

 

Before I could bite down, I tasted a dreadful and unmistakable tang. My effort became an immediate small disaster. Fisting a napkin, I spit out the mouthful and turned my meal over to expose large, moldy spots on the bread and I turned at least five shades of green.

 

“What is it,” Marie asked, chewing hungrily.

 

“I’m allergic to mold,” I whispered, cupping my hand around my mouth to hide my dismay from Helen.

 

Marie leaned over to inspect my overturned meal, sputtering, “Oh! Ewww!”

 

Without hesitation, she flipped her own to check and with that, all attempts to hide disgust were lost.

 

“Mine’s fine,” she said, slicing it to give me half.

 

I thanked her kindly and asked her to take it back explaining that I’d lost my appetite.

 

“Okay, but I’ll sneak the cookies back to our room for you. If you’re hungry, you can munch then,” she whispered.

 

“Thanks,” I offered, as goon made her way behind me.

 

Hmmm, she’s getting sneaky. She’s definitely onto us or, at least, me.

 

“You hardly touched your meal,” she said cunningly.

 

I tried to think of something she couldn’t argue with but drew a blank. Instead, I bit my tongue.

 

Goon heaved a sigh and rounded the table finishing dinner rounds. Helen shot a worried look at me and whispered, “She knows something’s up.”

 

“Agreed,” I conspired, “Like I said, extra caution from now on.”

 

I reached beneath the table in a way that was only perceptible to us. Three fingers touched mine and I looked around before saying, “Meeting tonight after two a.m. rounds. Helen, meet me in the bathroom a few minutes after you hear me open my door. Okay?”

 

“Sure thing,” she answered, tossing me a relieved smile.

 

Sometimes I wonder if the girls trust me a little too much, I worried.

 

“If goon and B come back early, it’s off tonight,” I added for safe measure.

 

“Got it,” Helen whispered, under her breath.

 

Afterwards, I reached next to me and coiled my finger through Danica’s to let her know we would talk privately after our meeting. She sent me a knowing glance and got up to empty her tray.

 

When goon called lights out for the night I tiptoed to Danica to explain that I would be slightly late for our talk.

 

“How come,” she asked with a worried frown.

 

I’d finally remembered a website I loved and fudged, “I just have something to do.”

 

“Want some help,” she queried.

 

“Nah, I’ll tell you about it later. Get some rest.”

 

At two a.m. rounds, I waited until the coast was clear and went straight to the computer to look up netdisaster.com.

 

I downloaded an application which would attack a computer in a variety of ways and wondered which one to choose. Cows pooping on the screen?

 

I tried it but it didn’t send the right message. Nuke the monitor!

 

I downloaded Desktop NetDisaster and installed the software to make missiles nuke the computer screen, giving the appearance that all records had been infected or hacked as bombs exploded on the monitor, complete with sound effects.

 

I set up the effect on all the office computers smiling wickedly at my handiwork, and then scooted back to the room, extracted my list, and crossed off ‘helplessness.’

 

 

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM – All Rights reserved

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected JBPJ-G2PL-1FZR-4EGU

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Emmaline’s Story 12

Image

 Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 12

Inner Sanctum Actress

Pasithea by http://yungvermeer.tumblr.com/tagged/mypainting/

Pasithea  © http://yungvermeer.tumblr.com/tagged/mypainting/

Breakfast was fairly uneventful, for a change. I didn’t have a meltdown. I was refreshed yet exhausted. I recognized the irony of the paradox, but didn’t fully understand it.

Last night was the only time I’d ever confided in anyone and I slept better than I could recall in recent memory, yet I was profoundly tired.

I suppose, carrying everyone’s world up a mountain can have that effect after my first night of rest.

Conversely, psych guy was wide awake and ready for me, with his hair combed in place, wearing a suit without a single wrinkle, and eyes bright and alert. He greeted me with a beaming smile, “Good morning, Nyx.”

“’Morning,” I mumbled and plopped into my usual seat wondering,

Why do I always feel like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office?

“Well, it looks like sleep was not a friend to you last night,” he jabbed, tossing my own words back at me.

“On the contrary,” I quipped resuming yesterday’s calm demeanor, “Aergia dropped by for a visit and I’m still recovering from the night’s effects.

“Aergia,” he repeated, obviously rifling through his repertoire of Greek mythology.

“Yes, I said, “We enjoyed a long, lazy, girls night of chit chat. It’s so rare when our attentions are not pulled in other directions by obligations and commitments,” I prattled on, emphasizing ‘commitments.’ She is an ever present fixture, if not exactly vigilant,” I explained.

“Oh, lazy, sloth, Aergia. Got it.”

“Perhaps not entirely,” I countered, “She’s a spirit, one of several who guard my son’s domain. Aeriga is spirit and a goddess. Do you know what that means?”

Psych guy shook his head, speculating about what I would come up with next.

“Spirits, by definition, affect other souls with like qualities,” I explained, “Aergia is the spirit of laziness. She is infectious in that way. I’m just recuperating from a night of supremely indulgent laziness.”

“What sort of home does your son have? He must be very rich,” he stated petulantly, “to require that much security.”

“It’s a deep, dark, rocky, cave,” I said, with a mother’s tolerance.

“A cave,” he replied, “A cave that Aergia guards. What exactly does she guard, pray tell? Does he expect looters to steal his stash of rocks?”

“I would imagine, much the same things you do,” I shot back at him.

“I see,” he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin, “How so?”

“She, among others, guards his home and his well-being. He resides in a dark cave next to his twin brother, Thánatos, in the underworld.”

“He does,” his voice was a mixture of appreciation and incredulity.

I didn’t even slow down. Trying out my imitation of a purely maternal voice, I continued, “He does not see the changing of days, the rising or setting sun, or even the moon,” I frowned slightly for effect, “His peace lies in tranquility, the quiet; his own and that which surrounds him. His home has not as much as gates that may awaken him with creaking.”

“Really, a deep, dark cave in the underworld, where he brought his wife to live, next door to his brother,” He challenged me, “Who is Thánatos?”

“He is god of death.”

“You must be very proud,” he smiled derisively as he shot his dig at me.

“Well, admittedly, it’s not every mother’s dream but,”

“Hypnos lives with his wife, Pasithea,” he repeated, testing my knowledge and trying to figure out how to best me, “in the underworld with his twin brother, death,” he interrupted.

“Do you expect that I am uneducated about my own family? Do you think me unfit?”

Our eyes locked in a battle of wits and wills as tense silence filled the room.

Just to annoy him further, I continued, “As I was saying, it’s actually quite lovely. The River Lethe runs through it, and Pasithea has such a sweet countenance. She’s the deity of hallucination and relaxation. She’s so good to Hypnos and good for him,” I sighed clasping my hands over my bosom and smiling like an oblivious mother, brimming with ignorant joy, then caught myself thinking,

Cripes, I just made myself want to hurl!

“And what does all this mean to you, Emmaline?”

His question startled me back to reality and I stumbled, “You asked!”

“Good! Very good, Emmaline! I did ask, Emmaline. What did I ask?”

“You asked me who I am,” I shot at him, suddenly realizing I’d let him get away with addressing me by my real name, “But I still don’t know this Emmaline you speak of,” I added, attempting to put things to rights, “Perhaps you will tell me about her one day?”

“I believe you will discover her,” he explained kindly, “and you will be a better mother to her than she has known in the past.”

I turned a confused face to him while attempting to hide startled eyes, but he imparted nothing more.

Instead, he finished with his usual, “Come again tomorrow at noon. Good day, Emmaline.”

I opened the door to leave, took a step, and found myself face-to-face with the lost girl I had noticed yesterday. Again, she looked much healthier than I had witnessed while being admitted. I couldn’t help myself. I touched her shoulder gently, smiled, and said, “Way to go, girl.”

She smiled back, quietly saying, “Thanks,” and stood waiting.

“Emmaline,” I introduced myself, extending my hand.

“Maya,” she said taking it.

We shook once and I turned away as she opened psych guy’s door.

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM – All Rights reserved

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected BIUR-KDQV-KAFT-XXVG

Emmaline’s Story 11

Image

Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 11

Confessions in the Night

Danica-Confessions in the Dark

 

Marie, Danica, and I sat in our circle after goon made rounds. The three of us added to our list of B and goons’ schedules and deviances from them. As it happened, goon was fairly regimented about sticking to her routine. Big B wasn’t quite that methodical. I expected that.

 

What woman in love does the expected things all the time? Probably not many. 

 

I asked and answered my own question in my head, not even realizing I had slipped into my own thoughts; thoughts about the staff, the girls’ respective wellness, and what I would say to Danica tonight.

 

Eventually I heard Marie and then saw her waving her hand in front of my face, “Emmaline, come baaack.”

 

“Oh. Oops. Sorry,” I said, chagrined.

 

“Where did you go,” she queried.

 

Even in the darkness, I looked away and lied, “I was visiting my happy place.”

 

“Wow,” she countered, “If that’s your happy place, I’d hate to know where your hell is.”

 

I forced a smile and replied, “We’re in it. At least my sisters are with me.”

 

Danica touched my hand and slipped her finger through mine. It was small, yet a really huge, gesture that no one but us noticed. I knew then, that she was not just my sister on the inside. She was my family for life.

 

Later, we arranged our beds backwards so we could whisper to each other after Marie fell asleep. With pillows at the foot of our beds, we reached to circle our fingers and Danica asked haltingly,

 

“You-told me to ask. Remember?”

 

“Yea, I know,” I said, “I mean, its okay, I remember.”

 

“So what happened to you, Em?”

 

I thought for a long minute and replied, “Whew, ummm, where do I start?’

 

“Anywhere, I think,” Danica replied, “I mean, for me, it’s not really about the order of when things happened. It’s that they did happen.”

 

Danica fell silent and I found myself thinking that my first summarization of her had been exact:  Astute, fearless, and sharply pointed.

 

“Okay,” I said, “But after I tell you, then you have tell me.”

 

“I will,” she assured me, loosely shaking our looped fingers, “I promise.”

 

“Well let’s see,” I began, “I used to be the white sheep. I did everything that was asked and expected of me, to the best of my ability, for all my life,” then paused, realizing I couldn’t hear Danica breathing.

 

“You still awake, sis?”

 

“Of course,” she whispered, “I’m just concentrating. Go on,” she pressed.

 

“Around my fifteenth year, I broke.”

 

Danica sighed heavy-heartedly, “That’s horrible. You were a worn out work horse at fifteen.”

 

“Yeah, no shit,” I responded, continuing, “I was a good daughter and the daughter who could never be good enough. You know?”

 

“Yes, I think so,” she said.

 

“I tried every way I knew to gain my parents approval but even when they tossed me a compliment, it was delivered with a backhanded slap.”

 

“Wow,” Danica whispered.

 

“You know,” I said, imitating my parents, “This was great, but you missed this, this, and that, and you should have done it the way I would have.”

 

Danica squeezed my finger and I continued, “There was never just ‘Wow, this was great’ or ‘What a good job.’ It was always accompanied by a list of demerits,” I huffed, in deferred pain.

 

“You okay,” Danica asked, “Do you want to take a break?”

 

I tore myself from my stream of consciousness and said, “Nah. I’m okay for now. You?”

 

“I’m good but my heart hurts for you,” she lamented.

 

“You know, for the first time, mine kind of doesn’t,” I admitted, feeling slightly confused.

 

“It sounds like you’ve been carrying everyone’s world up a mountain for a very long time,” Danica surmised, “It must be a relief to finally stop, sit down, and talk to someone about it.”

 

Again, I thought, Astute, sharply pointed, and fearless. For a girl I would have mistaken for ten or twelve, she has bewildering maturity that surprises me at every turn. I wondered at the burdens on her tiny shoulders.

 

“I think so, sis. Do you want to take turns? I could stop and you can tell me some now.”

 

I followed the trail of her eyes to the window in the door.

 

She explained, “It’s getting near to second rounds. Quick, tell me one more thing before we remake our beds right side up!”

 

“Okay,” I laughed, “I had a brother.”

 

“Is he good looking,” she snickered.

 

“Ewww, and um, ewww!  He’s married with children now.”

 

Danica clutched her heart pretending I’d just fatally wounded her. It was all I could do not to collapse into peals of laughter. She looked toward the window and I knew we had cut it close. We tucked our pillows back at the head of our beds and feigned sleep until I actually did fall asleep.

 

Unaccompanied by any ugly thoughts or troubling memories, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep for the first time I could recall. I woke at five a.m. rounds to B’s voice saying the same thing she said every morning, “Arms up.”

 

I lay there not budging with my limbs feeling weighted, as if they were too heavy to move.

 

Residual effects of carrying worlds and holding my breath forever, I decided.

 

B lifted my wrist and I fell directly back to sleep. I could only hope they thought I was being intentionally uncooperative.

 

An hour later, I woke with a start, and psych guys words ringing in my ears, “I want answers to those questions tomorrow at eleven a.m. sharp.”

 

There wasn’t enough time after breakfast. I needed to pick Danica’s brain now.

 

Why didn’t I remember to ask her last night? I kicked myself as I tiptoed to her bed and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she turned weary eyes to me and I touched my finger to hers, mouthing “I’m sorry!”

 

She rolled toward me and scooted back, giving me the edge of the bed to sit on.

 

“I forgot about psych guy and our early meeting,” I whispered, “I need to ask you about Nyx.”

 

“Oh yea,” her whisper was barely perceptible; “You didn’t tell me what happened.”

 

“I’ll tell you everything later today. I need to know what the significance of Nyx is. What made you choose her?”

 

“Well, I was never any good at history, but I liked Nyx. She’s a Greek primordial goddess of the night. She’s only seen in glimpses. Nyx lives in shadows, which reminds me of me, and she’s really powerful and exquisitely beautiful, like I wish I was,” she confided, yawning.

 

“Okay. Why did glimpses and living in shadows remind you of you?”

 

Danica hesitated, opening her mouth as if to answer and then closing it.

 

“It’s okay, sis,” I whispered, cupping my hands around her ear, “I told you things last night and will tell you more, I promise.”

 

“Okay,” she conceded, sitting up in bed, “In my family, I am one of five children. I’m number three. I’m kind of opposite of you, Em’. Whether it’s good, bad, or indifferent, I’m unnoticed. I identify with existing in shadows, possibly powerful, but altogether powerless. Some say Nyx watched creation happen. She watched, standing on the edge. That’s me. I’m in the shadows or on the edge, but never really in the picture.”

 

My heart ached and I swallowed my tears, “Danica, you are so much more beautiful and powerful than you’ve received credit for, even from yourself, but how would you know that? You have existed in the shadows. No one ever bothered to show or tell you.”

 

I stood and she gently pulled me back down, “They say she was a shrew but I don’t buy it. Besides, if she was I think she was justified.”

 

I hugged her quickly and tucked her back into bed as Marie began to stir. I crawled back into my own bed and slept until breakfast time.

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected  JBPJ-G2PL-1FZR-4EGU