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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Emmaline’s Story 4

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Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 4

Fenced-In Mates

Danica&Emm

Slowly, I made my way toward something looming in the distance. Soon, I could make out an enormous fence. I ran my fingers over the rough-hewn, chain links, peering through it in abject horror. My eyes followed the trail of my fingers as high as I could reach and then I raised them to the top.

The fence was adorned with coiled, razor wire affixed lewdly atop like life-threatening graffiti; a detestable contrast to the blue, cloudless sky. Everything outside looked so peaceful, so friendly and normal, it made my heart ache. My knees gave way and I sank to the ground, unable to pry my eyes from the hideous razor wire.

We’re not patients. We’re incarcerated prisoners, inmates with no hope of escape! This isn’t jail. It’s hell! Verifiable hell!  

Danica’s first words to me rang in my ears, “By the way, welcome to hell.”

Did she know how right she was? Her three days and nights here must have seemed unending. 

The sun set and night fell with a damp chill. I didn’t notice. I sat, from dawn to dusk with downcast eyes, my fingers tightly wound around chain links in hopeless misery. I clung to the only tangible hatred I had; that which trapped me inside, in more ways than I could bear.

My world was drastically reduced. There were only two places in existence now, inside and out there.

Inside were endless, desperate, days and nights stretching out before me. Outside was an elusive dream; all ‘look but don’t touch,’ like some museum painting, cordoned off and guarded by goons.

Danica came to collect me, but I doubted it was possible. All hope was shattered. I was shattered. No one would be able to find the pieces of me I’d lost.

Great, I’m suicidal Humpty Dumpty.

I sat hugging my knees, weeping in futile rage. Never had I been so lost, so alone or so impossibly trapped. I knew then, that I was entirely at the mercy of the merciless. I couldn’t breathe, move or speak.

Danica pried my fingers from the chain links whispering, “Come on, Em’. Come inside with me.”

She helped me to stand throwing my arm around her shoulder as we stumbled back, shrouded in darkness that masked the tears streaking down my face. She patted my back gently, saying, “Shhh. There, there. It’s going to be okay.”

Everything in me wanted to plead for an answer I knew she didn’t have,

How? How is it going to be okay! Tell me how, please! 

I had no voice, no words, and I knew it would be fruitless to ask.

She sat me at the edge of my bed, saying in a hushed tone, “Be right back,” as she scooted from the room and returned with paper towels. She wiped my face and cleaned me up whispering soothingly all the while.

As my sobs subsided, Danica sat down next to me taking my hands in hers, “Remember,” she whispered, “Show no fear. It makes you an easy target. Don’t give them that.”

I knew she was right. I thought of rent-a-goon, just waiting for an easy victim. She would shred me at every chance and lay in wait, relishing her next opportunity.

Finally I wiped away the last of my tears, set my jaw and straightened my back, adopting a less devastated posture, and then hugged Danica hard. I mouthed my thanks to her. She hugged me back, looped her pinky through mine and said, “Sisters. Promise?”

I promised nodding affirmatively with a weak smile and promised myself, then and there, I wasn’t going down without unleashing an unholy war.

Danica went to her bed stretching and yawning, and for reasons I couldn’t fathom, I felt a ton better, like I’d been suffocating in a world that had caved in on me. Danica was my buffer, my pocket of air. For better or worse, she was now my sister in sins committed and those we would commit.
 
 
 
 
 
By Wildfire8470
Wildfire8470
 
 
 
 
 

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Previous © copyright 2015-04-30 06:20:34 – All Rights Reserved

Emmaline’s Story 2

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Emmaline’s Story – On The Inside

Chapter 2  

Painful Indoctrination

Daisy

Too abruptly, I realized that none of the lost girls had a single thing left to lose, and I was outnumbered eleven to one. The term ‘Criminally Insane’ leapt to mind and I would have torn my own skin off, had it meant I could free myself from the oppressive atmosphere.

This moment, and every moment of degradation leading up to it, was too much to stand, too unsettling to contemplate, too panic-inducing to ruminate! The entire scene was something straight out of “Alice in Wonderland,” after she went down the rabbit hole, or Janice Joplin’s rendition of it.

Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall,”

The refrain bored into my thoughts like a drill boring into hardwood; unbidden, seemingly excruciating, and slightly off-kilter. Something deep inside me shifted into sensory overload and I flew out of my body.

The shell of me remained seated. By all appearances, I was a slightly uneasy young woman squirming in her chair. All else bolted for the door. I was pulling on the handle, kicking and clawing the door, screaming at the top of my lungs,

Let me out! Let me out of here! I need to go! I’m not them! I’m not even like them! Help me!

An undetermined amount of time later, I came to with a gentle hand shaking my shoulder. A strikingly shrill voice called my name,

“Emmaline? Emmaline Mason! Are you okay, honey? Did you take something?”

Lacking ability to respond, I ran my hands over my arms and down my sides, making sure all of me was present and accounted for. For a brief moment, I was stupefied that no one seemed to have witnessed the scene I’d just made. I wondered how much time had passed while I was in that state.

Minutes? Hours? Days?  I wondered, but couldn’t piece the time together.

My eyes scoured the room, but I hadn’t seen a clock since I’d arrived. The effort was useless and I shook visibly knowing I was the next likely candidate for ‘eternally hopeless junkie.’

“We were afraid we wouldn’t be able to wake you, dear.”

The name on her smock read “Daisy.” Hers was the voice of kindness, but still could have shattered glass. The smile tugging at the corners of her lips was almost genuine.

Daisy asked the expected questions,

“How old are you, Emmaline?”

I stood mute in her inquisitive stare.

“Okay,” She replied gently, “Let’s try this one. Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

I shook my head emphatically.

Daisy glanced down at my medical records, whispered something to her co-worker, and turned her crimson smile back to me,

“It’s okay, dear. You don’t have to speak. I’ll get it from your insurance form.”

She made short work of divesting me of all my worldly possessions, never once losing that damned smile. I wondered if she painted it on every morning.

“Why don’t you give me your purse and sit down to remove the laces from your shoes,” She asked kindly.

I was suddenly stricken with outrage at the invasions, intrusions, and abuses I had already suffered at the hands of the personnel. I stood there in silence letting my thoughts consume me, listening to the angry voice running amuck in my head,

Why don’t you cram it where the sun don’t shine, fake face? By the way, is that smile by Max Factor or Maybelline?

Slowly, I lifted my purse from my shoulder, handed it to Daisy, and sat staring down at my shoes to hide my snarl.

“I’ve searched your bag and removed all contraband; prescriptions, junk food, candy, soda, etcetera. I’ll put it in a locked box until you’re ready to leave,” Daisy explained as she approached, “Let me help you with those shoe laces,” She offered, kneeling to remove my last vestige of individuality.

Upon extracting the offending laces from my Kmart, $5.99 sneakers, she looked up at my veiled expression. She stood, saying cheerfully,

“Oh! Not to worry, dear. You’ll get everything back when you leave.”

I wanted to challenge her, confront her then and there,

Isn’t it a question of if rather than when?

But I wasn’t certain I was prepared to know the answer. My short, hellish exposure to this place had made me extremely paranoid. I presumed that I too would be drugged beyond oblivion like the lost girls. I glanced nervously at them; terrified that their fate would become my own.

Daisy took my hand and issued the words I had already come to dread,

“Follow me.”

I followed dutifully, wondering what my next mortification would be.

She led me into a large, dimly-lit, community room and I was brought up short, being left to the merciless Nurse Belinda. The tall, big-boned woman pulled several sheets, some blankets and a tiny pillow from shelves.

“Arms out,” she insisted.

I lifted my arms weakly, really feeling how weary I was, when Nurse Belinda dropped the entire load into my tired arms.

“We earn our own keep around here. You’ll do well to remember that. Follow me.”

Again with the ‘follow me’ routine, I huffed silently.

I glared daggers into her back and prayed this was my last “follow me” for the night.

Belinda showed me to a pitch-black room, save for a tiny amount of light seeping through the small, square window in the door.

Finally, sweet, sweet, blessed sleep. Hallelujah!

I found an empty bed in the darkness, spread the blanket atop a thin, threadbare mattress, and placed the tiny pillow under my head. I shoved the rest of the linens over me haphazardly, not caring how it would look in the morning. Exhaustion claimed me and I was asleep before I could contemplate tomorrow’s torments.
 
 
 
 
By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 
 
 
 
 
 
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Previous © copyright 2015-04-30 06:20:34 – All Rights Reserved