Emmaline’s Story 15

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On the Inside – Emmaline’s Story

Chapter 15:  The Institution of Screw, Fucking, U

Mop Maid-Screw U

The next morning, I joined the herd racing to pre-breakfast smoke break. I sat alone at my table and pulled a cigarette from the pack, but didn’t light it. I stared down, flipping it in my fingers and wondering if I still wanted to die. I rolled it in my palm thinking hard while concocting a slightly morbid pro/con list in mind,

I never planned a slow death. I just want it to be over, done,finished – finally.  Now. I need to escape the whipping post and I need to never return to people who are killing me slowly, every single day, and enjoying it.

God help me, I started this and I need to try for Danica. I made a promise, took an oath, and shared my deepest grief with her. Maybe an apartment isn’t realistic, with both of us working for minimum wage, but there are shelters. We could stay at a shelter, pool our resources and save up. I have to try. I didn’t promise just anyone. I promised her. She’s the only family I have now. Actually, she’s the only true family I’ve ever had.

To my own shock, I stood and walked past goon, went inside and handed the pack to big B without a word of explanation and walked away. Then I joined the girls for breakfast as goon made her way to the front of the room.

Danica smiled, beaming at me, and whispered, “You did good!”

I hadn’t realized she had been watching me so closely. I smiled wanly when Goon interrupted my thoughts, “Attention, everyone,” Her voice boomed, “Whoever is responsible for the elevator is in serious trouble! That is a fire hazard and this person, or persons, will be punished accordingly.”

I presumed her announcement had everything to do with ordering me to mop the community room tonight. I figured I’d better get used to it if we planned on life in a shelter, but I took the opportunity to curse Psych guy in silence, presuming he probably put her up to it.

That evening, I mopped for a long time in silence but screaming in my mind. Again I considered lighting goon on fire and shoving her down an empty elevator shaft, or into rush hour traffic on a busy highway. I mopped furiously, fueled by my homicidal thoughts, and when I finished I fell into bed too exhausted to speak.

Fitful sleep imprisoned me in ungodly nightmares until I woke to Goon’s pudgy face peering through the small window. I considered turning over to sleep through the night but I wouldn’t let her think she had broken me. My eyes were nearly closed again when I forced myself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

Danica and Marie were sound asleep. I heard the front door click shut and it was too much temptation while thirsting for revenge. I let myself out of our room, went to the main computer, set the scrolling marquee, and typed:

Graduate Mop Maid, Institution of Screw, Fucking, U!

I left it scrolling across the screen, well aware that goon would know with certainty that I did it and I didn’t care one bit. Once again, I chalked up an imaginary score, slicing the air with my finger, and whispering, “Them – one. Us – three”.

Out of unadulterated, malignant spite, I stayed up long enough to write deplorable ‘love lost’ prose, dropped the page near the door, and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM

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Thursday Tasters 1-16-2014 Slightly Skewed-War Games

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An excerpt from:

Working Title: Slightly Skewed

Slightly Skewed-Small(c) All  Rights Reserved – 22:39 1-15-2014

Blurb:

This is written in the voice of Emmaline, who has attempted suicide and, consequentially, become committed to a mental health facility. After finding fault with the treatment she and her group of friends “on the inside” receive, she unwittingly becomes the ringleader of a band of rebellious girls who believe they have a cause to fight for and a point to prove. They call their rebellious efforts “War Games.”

NOTES:

Big B is Belinda, a tall, large-boned woman who is the nurse. Goon is short for “Rent-A-Goon,” a nickname that Emmaline gave her during admittance. She is a utilitarian guard or “rent-a-cop.” She is, on rare occasion, referred to as Na’, which is short for Nadine. Na’ and goon are one and the same.

 War Games

I heard the door leading into the hall open and shut. That was our cue. I cracked the door to my room and checked to see that big B and goon were both gone. Helen did exactly as we had discussed. She left her room and wandered down the hall with eyes on the ground. She entered the restroom and cracked the door to check the community room and front desk. I watched her heave a sigh of relief as she turned to me waving the all clear signal.

 

We ventured into the community room with trepidation. We had decided on our marching orders after lights out, then tossed and turned waiting to put our plans into action. When I saw goon’s face peering through the tiny window in the door, I knew action was moments away. It was all I could do to be still and wait for Na to finish night rounds. 

 

When I looked back, my girls were already behind me. My heart filled with warmth I hadn’t known I was still capable of. We padded toward the community room and slipped into the restroom with Helen. I extended my index finger whispering, 

 “Commencing War Games, Operation: Any Little Annoyance.”

We jammed our fingers together hard and then tiptoed into the community room. I was surprised that all four of us could move in virtual silence. 

 

For the first time, I’m glad for the butt-ugly hospital socks!

 

Danica took her post at the thick door-sill, behind the entrance, to listen and watch for B and goon. Marie sneaked behind the desk to search for CD-ROM’s and unmarked disks. 

 

Helen manned one of three computers, armed with my list of web addresses. I ventured into a room behind the front desk that I’d noticed only a day ago. It was a back office. 

 

I’ll be damned. This must be the friggin’ inner-sanctum.

There were several desks and it appeared quite formal, as though staff and department heads must meet here in secrecy. Scanning the room, I discovered two busts. They were blue with gears emblazoned around their skulls. I memorized the office as best I could, and with my heart pounding, stepped out and shut the door.  

 

Helen and Marie had already found a blank disk and downloaded the sounds and pictures I requested. Helen handed the disk to me. I shoved it into one of my hospital socks as I caught Danica’s eye. She pointed back to our rooms, motioning frantically. All of us moved swiftly and closed our door silently just as B and goon returned. 

 

I pushed Helen, in her cartoon dog PJ’s, into my bed and against the wall. I leapt in behind her, arranging pillows and blankets to hide her. To prying eyes it would look like I was alone, with covers pulled up and one arm slung across the heap. 

 

An hour later, goon’s ugly mug peered through the window and I watched her shadow pass by again, as she returned to join big B in the front office. I waited several minutes, until I could hear the drone of Na and B talking over coffee. I let go a heavy sigh and realized I’d been all but holding my breath.  

 

All of us merged silently into our circle at the back of the room, away from the fluorescent light barely whispering through the window. I waited for several minutes while our eyes adjusted and then raised my finger, laughing quietly, “Success!” 

 

My girls followed suit and we sat together in silence, holding hands for a moment, though we were anything but quiet. There in the darkness we bonded, squeezing each others hands and hugging each other wordlessly. Our minds buzzed with friendship, sisterhood, and shared elation; a feeling not one of us had experienced since our admittance here.  

 

As unlikely as it seemed, we were each others family now. I leaned back against the wall, smiling contentedly at having gained so much more than just turning the tables on the staff.  

 

Danica added to our ritual then, extending her finger into our circle. As we reached to touch her finger, she closed hers against her middle finger, forming a circle. We looped our fingers through Danica’s. This time, she did not ask. She softly stated what we all knew had just taken place, “Sisters.” 

 

It wasn’t a command, a question, or an order. It was a gentle admission; a softly spoken fact; one we were all extremely happy for. This was our wealth. In this place that was destitute of happiness and devoid of family, we had both in droves. 

 

Helen finally broke the silence, asking, “What’s next?” 

 

I grinned wickedly and pulled the disk from my hospital sock. I held it up and said, “Any little annoyance.” 

 

 A slightly confused silence followed, so I relented and explained, “I want them to experience what we did. When we came here, we were scared, confused, in need of explanation regarding what would follow; like our personal safety and how they protect it, how long the likely stay is, what the steps to ‘recovery’ are,” I said, making quotations in the air, “At least within the first two or three days here, those general courtesies should have been mandatory.”  

 

“Exactly,” Helen hissed under her breath. 

 

“All of us are here because we survived something unspeakable.” I continued, “At that point, information and kindness are no longer a luxury. They are necessities. Punishment is not the order of the day for patients being admitted.” 

 

“What Helen said,” Marie whispered in a low, angry tone. 

 

I went on to finish my thought, “Following the unspeakable, we were strip-searched, had our belongings taken and locked up, We got zero input, zero niceties, zero comfort in any form, zero explanation of what to expect, zero information period; no offer of anything from a cup of water to sitting down with a staff counselor, or anyone who could address our fears and worries. Not one person told us what to expect here!” 

 

“That’s exactly right,” Marie spat acidly. 

 

“For our terror and trouble, we got one humiliation and violation after another and “follow me,” only led to yet another mortification. They took our belongings, our already limited control and our dignity, along with our shoelaces! The cherry on the crazy parfait was ‘We earn our own keep around here. You’ll do well to remember that.’ I intend to feed them enormous helpings of crazy parfait and be as distant, aloof, and uncaring as they were and have remained.” 

 

Uneasy silence ensued while I let the memories consume me, and when I resurfaced, I knew what I had to do,  “I’m sorry, ladies. I didn’t realize I was still that upset. I’m going to take a revote for who’s in and who’s out. No one will be shunned if they want out. We’re sisters now.” 

 

I lifted my hand with trepidation and three fingers touched my own. 

 

“Are you absolutely sure,” I asked. 

 

Danica spoke first. “Yes, we’re sure. We all feel the same way.” 

 

Helen and Marie shared their admittance stories then, which closely mimicked my own, and I responded,  

 

“We finish what we started tonight at 4am break…”

By Wildfire8470

(c) copyright 2014-01-22 10:00:26 UTC – All Rights Reserved