Copyright © 2014 Devin Johnston

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1497476216

ISBN-13: 978-1497476219

To the broken,

Persevere, for what is a mosaic but that which has been shattered and

painstakingly pieced back together again?

The Broken Devin Johnston

1

CHAPTER ONE

A solid metal chunk resonated from her pen as she dropped

it on the marble counter right next to a single page with a single

word written on it.

Grabbing her green bag, the young woman strode valiantly

to the last room she’d ever see, opened her tin and selected a fresh

scalpel. Before she has been calm, but no more. The wicked blade

pressed against her welcoming flesh but her hand would not

respond to her brain’s orders. She screamed at herself to do it.

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Prayed to whatever gods there may be to give her the strength.

Pacing the bathroom trying to regain some control over herself.

This is it. She wanted to die. She was ready. She was ready.

Taking a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and

picked up her blade. Testing its sharpness, she sliced into the soft

skin of her thigh quite satisfied as the blood dripped into the

shallow water below. The red swirled and danced into mesmerising

patterns around her feet. It was time. The bottle of pills already

gone, this was merely the last step to peace. Relaxation. The end.

Placing the tip of her blade just under the bottom of her

palm, the woman pressed with as much might she could muster,

slowly dragging it down to her elbows. Blood cascaded from the

gash in ruby rivers, as it rushed from her body the blood took all

her warmth and energy. She tried to replicate the cut with the other

arm, but couldn’t get quite as deeply, but that didn’t matter. The

first was good enough.

She slipped down into the tub, flood pooling around her as

she lay. Scared. She was scared. Every instinct told her to get help,

stop the bleeding, but she knew this would happen and urged

herself to stay put. Eventually, she knew, she would pass out and

finally be gone.

Despite her inner protests, the thoughts of how her family

would react to her death. It would be hard of them at first, but

eventually they would realise they are leagues better without her

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alive to hold them back. They would realise how much she brought

them down. How much she hurt them. They would eventually

realise she finally did something right. That she finally found peace

after years of turmoil and uncertainty.

With a smile on her lips, the young woman embraced the

heavy blanket of sleep, willing consumed into the darkness.

…

Time was nearly non-existent, nonlinear. What was a few

brief minutes was in fact many long hours. The girl was lying

down, bound to the bed by large straps, holding her down. She

struggled, but gave up. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She felt

nothing. Bliss perhaps was the only sensation. Trapped in a fuzzy

world, nothing but relaxation surrounded her.

Eyes shot open. Pain. Extreme pain. Her whole body hurt.

Every inch of flesh was aflame, all emanating from her arms.

Wildly, eyes flicked around a blurry room. Demons surrounded

her, babbling in some incomprehensible language, clad in colourful

outfits. She wanted to escape. To flee. The fear, the straps and the

pain all kept her immobile, however. She was terrified of what

these monsters were trying to do to her but couldn’t prevent

whatever atrocities they were to perform. They bustled around her

frantically, around the room, in and out of the room, everywhere; a

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few of them checked medical equipment, some talked to each

other. One demon, scruffy and dressed in white spoke to her

directly.

“Mie? Mie Faulkner?” The man asked gently. Her bewildered

look told him all he needed. Mie watched the white demon talk to

the colourful ones when it dawned on her they might not be

demons.

Pain. She could think. No she couldn’t. Maybe. No. Pain.

There were no thoughts. Her mind was befuddled with it. Mie

didn’t even try to continue figuring out what was going on. Her

last pieces of sanity focused on blocking out the ache writhing

through her body. Eventually it began to ebb enough she could

tentatively allow her mind to explore what she now realised was a

hospital room.

Dread, anger, regret, guilt, a flood of emotions and thoughts

crashed over her when she finally fully understood what happened,

why she was in a hospital. I’m…supposed to be dead. More than ever,

she longed to hide and wished she wasn’t alive.

The nurses in bright scrubs had left the room while Mie had

been struggling with the throbbing pain. Outside the room an

indistinguishable amount of people muttered in voices far too low

for Mie to understand. The door swung open and a small army of

humans ushered in.

“I’m…M-mom…” Mie whispered.

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“Shush. It’s okay. I…never knew things were things bad,”

Mie’s father said as he hugged her mother before she started to cry

again, trying to sooth her. Paige, Mie’s sister, just stood numbly

behind everybody else. Her emotions spent, nothing left for her to

do or say. Mie had no words for any of them except to simply

repeat “I’m sorry.” In low hushed tones.

Her family sat around Mie in silence, occasionally saying

something light hearted or commenting on an event from the

news. Simply being where she was her family and friends was very

exhausting. After a few hours of visitation, the nurse charged with

watching Mie chased everybody from the room. Mie drifted off as

everybody started leaving.

…

“Good morning, Mie,” said a cheery nurse wearing an

equally cheery pale blue scrub uniform.

Mie didn’t wish to speak, but her thirst for information

forced her hand. “How… how long have I been here?” She

sputtered.

“Four days.”

Four…four? She pondered the number for a while until the

pain drove her back into her cocoon of blocking agony. When she

was able to branch her find out again, Mie still found it hard to

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speak of anything. A simple question of if she happened to know

what time it was for some reason was hard to answer. Simply

talking shouldn’t be this arduous of a task. Apparently she zoned

out for extended stretches of time, according to the people who

tried interacting with. Sometimes she could remember the question

after she came back to, sometimes she couldn’t.

At some point, a psychiatrist came to see Mie in order to

evaluate and to run a few simple tests to see what should be done.

After a very long time –or so Mie figured by the expression on the

psychiatrist’s face- all the questions that needed to be answered

were. Mie was a little surprised about how calm she was about the

whole event. She gave some truthful answers, but knowingly lied

about many others to make her seem better than she actually was.

Though, she was slightly afraid that he’d be able to see through the

lies. It wasn’t a creepy ordeal like she feared it would be. He didn’t

even seem all that intrusive. Actually, he was mindless and bored,

but Mie wasn’t the most thrilling patient either.

Mie spent the greater part of the day drifting in and out of

sleep. Part of it was due to the pain, lots of medicine, and partially

because the sheer stress on her mind and body took a lot of energy

out of her. Her family stopped by while Mie was asleep. They

waited until she woke up before they left, however. There was a

TV in the room so they watched a few shows with their daughter

before they had to leave. Just like the previous day, not much was

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said. Nobody wanted to address the reason they had to be there in

the first place. Her mom simply plunked one of her favourite

books on the stand beside the bed and they left with hollow good

byes.

Her parents then gave her a light hug and walked out. Paige

half-heartily said “bye.” Mie could tell her sister was very upset by

her sister being in the hospital to the point where she didn’t know

how to react to the situation.

“Good evening, Ms. Faulkner.” Mie half-heartedly focused

on the person talking to her. Only when he said “We are going to

commit you at the local psych hospital,” did he have her attention.

Instantly she wanted to sit up and say, “NO!” Her first

instinct was no. She knew it would be good for her, but no. She

just couldn’t go. She wasn’t crazy, just a little depressed.

“Do you want to get better?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d advise you to go and try to make the best of this

opportunity.”

“No, I refuse”

“If you want to get better, you should go. At any rate, you

have to go. According to state law, anybody deemed to be a danger

to themselves has to go for at least a seventy-two hour hold. And

Mie, giving your current state, we declare you to be a danger to

yourself.” He paused, expression softening. “I’m going to call your

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parents and inform them of this. Some calls need to be made, but

tomorrow you will be admitted.”

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10

CHAPTER TWO

A slight rap on her door signalled Mie to the presence of a

doctor, nurse, and to her surprise: a police officer. The doctor

talked with her for a while about the hospital and what to expect

when she got there. Her parents brought over a few articles of

clothing to take with her: a few shirts, trousers, various

undergarments, and a sweater. They gave her one last, long hug

before releasing her to the cop.

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The trip to the psychiatric hospital took roughly half an

hour’s time by Mie’s not-so-reliable judge. It was midmorning,

empty highways made for a quicker and uninteresting drive than it

would have normally been. Numbly Mie watched out the window,

eyes flittering back and forth watching as objects zoomed past in

colourful blurs. The whole ride was a blur.

Everything was just a blur.

“Hello, Mie,” a kindly woman said.

Mie blinked. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around surprised

before she remembered where she was. I must have zoned out… “Oh,

um, hi,” she stammered.

The woman smiled warmly. A genuine smile. Black curly hair

draped her shoulders, framing a plump dark face. Her pitch hair

and purple attire was striking against a room of pale yellows and

harsh lights. “I’m Luisa, one of the nurses here that will help you

during your stay. So, Ms. Faulkner, how are you feeling today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Considering that is.”

“Understandable.” She grabbed a thick binder off the

bookshelf behind her. Uncapping a pen, Luisa launched into a

series of questions ranging from her age to medical history, to why

she tried killing herself and if she was still feeling suicidal. Mie

answered most of them truthfully; the only question she purposely

lied about was telling Luisa that she no longer felt suicidal. The last

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thing Mie wanted was to get herself committed to even more time

than she would have had otherwise.

She knew of course, she would eventually have to tell the

truth to somebody, at least the psychiatrist, but that bridge would

be crossed when she got there. After they did an inventory on her

belongings to catalogue and check for forbidden items, Luisa led

Mie through several locked doors, down a long hallway, through

another locked door and finally into the ward.

The very first thing Mie saw was a man walking around in his

slippers. His hair practically stood on end, was wearing ratty

clothing, and was mumbling incoherently to himself while looking

at the floor. Occasionally, he would look at some unlucky person

that met his gaze and shuffle towards them, gibbering at them. If

they ignored him long enough he would eventually wander off

once more. Sometimes one could catch a little of what he was

saying and understand, but unless very close attention was paid,

most of his speech was nigh impossible to decipher.

“Follow me Ms. Faulkner,” a polite young looking man said.

He introduced himself imply as Juan and showed her around the

ward. After a brief tour of the tiny complex, he asked the woman

in charge of the nurses’ station if they happened to have Mie’s

room ready for her. They did and Juan led her to it. “Here you go!”

he said. “Room 22. I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is at five. If

you aren’t in the common areas, I’m sure somebody will find you

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and bring you for the meal.” With that, Juan left Mie to explore

and get used to her barren room.

Her quarters contained nothing more than a sheetless bed,

empty nightstand, a closet with only one shelf –no hooks or bars-,

and a bathroom that contained a sink, toilet, shower, and a dull

plastic mirror. The empty walls were stark white on one side and a

pale grey-blue on the other. Having fully explored every nook and

cranny of the sleeping area in a grand total of one whole minute,

Mie trotted out hunting for a mite of entertainment and perhaps

company.

She quickly found out all there really was for fun was a

phone and watching TV. Having nobody to really call at the

moment, and never been much of a fan of television, Mie elected

to simply sit in the dining area at a random table, back against the

wall, and to simply sit, think, observe.

Her thoughts were calm, keeping them focused on the

simple analysation of the hospital itself. Inspecting and admiring all

the paintings was the first thing she did. There were only seven,

and all of them were prints. Mie half-heartedly expected some

originals, perhaps from the patients themselves. Viewing the

pitifully small number of paintings in the three triangular halls took

all of half an hour to do in total.

When that short activity was exhausted, she returned to

sitting, thinking, observing. Getting some paper from the nurses’

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station, Mie settled down and started writing down what she saw as

she watched the staff and patients alike go about their respective

day. Most of her journaling was purely observational, not allowing

herself to truly analyse the situation for the time being. She knew

that if she could keep her analytical portion subdued then it was

less likely she would start freaking out about everything that has

happened recently. As Mie wrote in her journal about the random

small details such as the awkwardness of using a tiny pencil, how

odd walking in socks is, the surprisingly comfortable feeling of

short sleeves, it dawned on her that besides the staff, she was

probably the –or one of- smartest or at least sanest person in the

building. It was such a queer notion. Coming from a school full of

nerds and a family where each member was fairly well gifted in a

variety of areas, she was used to be average.

I can’t even… this is so strange! Holy shit, don’t laugh. Don’t laugh!

She wrote in a stream of consciousness manner. Part of her realised

that statistically this realisation was completely false for many

reasons; one of them being the percentages of specific disorders

and backgrounds in the average mental hospital populations. But

for the moment, as Mie peered about the small ward, it really did

seem true. People come and go every day, she thought, just give it some time

and somebody at or above will show up.

After she exhausted the small amount of topics there was to

write about, Mie checked the clock, slipped her pencil into her

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pocket where it wouldn’t be absconded with by the staff, and

relaxed. She idly peopled watched for a while longer. The staff

walked around constantly checking on patients, most of whom

were sitting in the TV room watching some obscure reality TV

show Mie had never seen before. The schizophrenic man she saw

when she first entered the ward circled the wing over and over and

over. Constantly. Almost in a never ending circle. A broken record.

“Hey,” said an old man, jarring Mie out of her thoughts. “Do

you mind if I sit?” He looked to be in his sixties; grey thinning hair,

rough hands, a wrinkled yet kind face. He looked like a man that

must have spent the majority of his adulthood doing strenuous

work in the sun.

“Oh, sure! Of course! I mean… no I don’t mind!” Mie

stammered, “please sit!” Most of the tables in the dining area were

empty with Mie’s table and a middle aged looking man on the other

side of the room.

“My name is Robert,” the man offered and extended his arm.

“Mie,” she shook his firm gnarled hand.

“Just show up today?”

“Yeah, about one or so. Not long after lunch according to

the woman that did my intake.”

“First time in a hospital?”

“Yup,” Mie said. “Actually, I’ve never even been in a normal

medical hospital, much less a psychiatric one,” she added quickly.

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“Hmm,” he thought for a moment. “Well, based on your

arms, I can make a guess as to why you are here. Try to make the

best of this. Take advantage of it. You don’t want to be my age and

still coming and going from hospital to hospital.”

Unsure of the edict between patients in these situations, she

inquired as to how many times he had been committed and for

what, hoping that it was not rude to do so.

“A lot. Right now, I’m just here for detox,” he paused.

“Alcoholism.”

Mie and Robert carried on their conversation for a good

while, meandering through topics; he warned her about which

patients to stay away from and how little there was to do here, but

everything mainly revolved around her impressions of the hospital

thus far and a little bit of her history, at least that which lead to her

sectioning. She admitted that the whole reality of the situation

hadn’t hit her thus far, but she was excited to see a psychiatrist for

the first time.

“Let’s go to the TV room,” he offered they got up and he

introduced Mie to an older woman, sitting down in the empty seat

next to her.

“Mie, this is Kendra. Kendra, this is Mie,” he stated,

introducing the two women.

“You are a born again Christian, aren’t you, Mie?” Kendra

asked immediately.

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“Well, um…” Mie fumbled for words, her hand instinctively

reaching for the spot at the base of her throat that a pentacle

generally hung. “Well…”

“Why yes she is!” Robert supplied before Mie could confirm,

or rather deny, the woman’s assumption.

Wait…What? Mie thought, confused. Deciding that it would

just be easier to roll with it, Mie said, “Yes, Ma’am. That is

correct.” Oh dear lord, what am I getting myself into.

“Great! It’s nice to meet fellow Christians. You know, my

provider –sweet lady- was going to teach me how to use a

computer so I could go on Christian Mingle. It’s just so hard to

meet nice Christians these days. I’m always wary of meeting new

people. Many men are so eager to take advantage of you. I always

carry a knife with me.

‘One of the ladies comes here every Sunday and Wednesday

and does a lovely service. This hospital needs more good Christians

in it. The head nurse Belinda is a good honest Christian, you know.

I’ve talked to her about getting more Christian services in here for

people. I should introduce you! She is very nice.” Kendra just kept

rambling on and on.

Ah yes, Mie thought. This one is crazy. It almost sounds like some

sort of word seizure. How one woman could talk so quickly for so

long was beyond Mie, and probably Robert’s, comprehension.

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“I came here because of God. I think God wanted us to

meet. He wants us to witness to each other and to all the other

people here. Yes, I feel God very strongly in this hospital. I love

Jesus so much. And Mie? If you ever feel scared or just want to

pray, just plead the blood of Jesus. Plead the blood to cover you,

and you will be safe. And if you ever want to pray together, I

would love to join you. The three of us can pray together actually! I

just get so excited talking about Jesus!”

Still taken aback by the almost manic way Kendra babbled

about Jesus, Mie whispered “is she always like this?” to Robert. He

nodded. Sighing, Mie knew this was suddenly going to be a much

longer day than first expected.

“…And I wouldn’t take my meds. So they sent me here. The

police came and brought me here. My previous doctor, who was

NOT a Christian, tried to change my medications. I didn’t like it. It

was all God’s plan, you see. He wanted me here where there is a

good Christian doctor and people, and so I could meet you two,

and so that I –we- can witness to all the people here that need help.

Have you ever heard of the Rainbow Bible?” She paused,

uncharacteristically. “Mie?”

“Oh!” Mie said in surprise, the question catching her off

guard. As much as she tried to be nice and listen, it was rather droll

and impossible to focus on the same rambling, arbitrarily religious

monologue. As fascinating as she found religion, there was only so

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much drivel she could stand, especially when pouring form the

mouth of a mentally ill, overly excitable, sixty nine year old. “Um,

no, actually I have not. But it does sound… rather interesting.” Or

stupid, is more like it, really.

“It’s the most beautiful thing, Mie!” she crooned. “Perfect

for witnessing to yourself and others, and it really connects you

with Jesus. One year I bought all my family one of them for

Christmas some time back. Perhaps I should buy you one, too, if I

can. Passages and quote are colour coded and it’s just beautiful.

You can actually hear the Voice of God through it.”

Okay… Mie thought. I am definitely saner than her at least. She

felt as if she accidentally stumbled into some church rather than a

hospital. For a while, she combed her memory to see if somebody

ever mentioned that it was a secular hospital. No, she concluded,

it’s probably just her.

Kendra never seemed to run out of topics. Robert was

visibly done with the whole conversation, Mie wasn’t exactly hiding

her annoyance either, The old woman seemed to not notice or

realise that the two people she was speaking at had no desire to

continue with things in the present manner.

An epiphany struck Mie as she realised that this was probably

the most social interaction with somebody other than a doctor that

Kendra has had in months, if not years, so of course she was

blabbering effortlessly. A wake of pity kept Mie from requesting

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she be silent for a while, or at least change the subject. Robert,

however, saved her. “Kendra, I know you love Jesus, but can we

change the subject? We came to chat, not hear a sermon.”

“Oh, sure,” she replied, slightly jarred. “It’s just that I get so

excited talking about Him and I hope some of my stories will be

helpful to young Mie here.”

“They very may well be, Ma’am, but I’ll be here for a few

days, at least. We’ll have plenty of time for stories, no need to

deliver your whole biography now in one sitting.” Mie said kindly,

hoping Kendra would listen and obey her and Robert’s request.

“Exactly,” Robert added. “Let’s just watch the programme,”

he finished. And they did.

For about ten minutes.

Kendra started up again. Both Mie and Robert sighed and

rolled their eyes, knowing it wouldn’t last. They resigned

themselves to their collective fates at the mercy of the incessantly

talkative elderly woman and pretended to listen, to care.

Dinner finally provided an opportunity to relieve Mie and

Robert’s ears for a while. Surely she couldn’t talk and eat.

They assumed wrongly. All throughout the meal, Kendra

kept at her stories and mini-sermons. Unfortunately she ate very

little and what she did eat took an agonisingly long time to

consume, providing her with ample opportunities to speak at great

lengths.

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“Kendra. Stop. I personally do not like having God shoved

down my throat at all times. This is why I don’t go to any church

any more. Can you just be quiet for a while? We would both

appreciate it.” Robert angrily interrupted.

“Why I am not!” She gasped, taken aback by Robert’s

accusations. “I’m merely talking is all.”

“Exactly. About Him. Constantly. I do not take kindly to this

constant pushing of religion on me, especially for hours on end.

Neither does Mie, I’m sure.” Mie was beginning to think Robert

was actually an agnostic based on his obvious disgust to the whole

religious topic. From the start, thinking back, Mie realised that he

has simply been covering up his dislike. The same assumption

Kendra had for her was probably what also happened to him.

Which is why he was so quick to interject and answer for me earlier, Mie

thought.

Mie quietly ate her food while Robert and Kendra bickered

about whether or not Kendra was actually trying to force

Christianity on him and Mie. Eventually Mie spoke up and sided

with Robert saying, “while I do enjoy a nice, good, hearty religious

conversation or debate, I do not particularly enjoy being talked or

preached at for hours over and over, repeating the same topic over

and over, about a single strain of any faith again and again.”

Finally Robert and Mie convinced her to stop. This time she

actually listened. The rest of the evening Kendra prattled on about

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her children, what she wanted to do when she got out, showed off

her tattoo, and just recounted stories from her life in generally.

Keeping their request in mind, Kendra kept the mentions of God

to the minimum, or at least as well as she could.

When Kendra was called to see the psychiatrist, Robert and

Mie sat in respiteful silence. They made a few comments about

Kendra –general gossip- but only intermittently. The old lady

stopped by after her appointment to tell them she was going to

bed, much to the two’s relief.

Once more, things were quiet. Robert sauntered off at some

point, leaving me to her reflections and journal. She doodled and

scribbled an entry about whom she dubbed the “Crazy Jesus

Lady.” She chuckled about the thought of telling her parents about

the first day’s excitement in the crazy farm. Her adventures in the

insane.

A frown came to her as Mie realised that she hardly thought

of her family all day. As soon as the telephone room was empty,

Mie slipped in to make a call. Sighing with frustration, she realised

that she had absolutely no idea how to make the silly thing work.

Naturally it wasn’t as simple as just dialling the number she wished

to call. Mie peaked out of the room. Not wanting to leave and risk

losing her opportunity, she hoped there would be a nurse of staff

member walking down that hall, but to no avail. Quickly as she

could without being chided to slow, Mie, jogged to the nurses’

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station, asked for instructions, and jogged back before the room

was nabbed.

“Hello?” the familiar voice asked.

“Mom!” Mie replied. Mie’s mother was excited to hear how

her day had gone. Mie recounted her realisation that she was finally

in a place where she was the sanest in the area. Then came the

“Trials of the ‘Crazy Jesus Lady’” which made her giggle.

“Aw, poor little Mie,” she chuckled. “Here your father wants

to talk.”

“Hey, sweetie,” her father answered, words leaden with

sadness. Mie could hear the emotion dripping off each syllable like

oil despite his obvious attempts to hide it. Once more, Mie

repeated the day’s adventures.

“Can you put Paige on?” Mie requested when she finished

her tales.

“Sure,” he said.

“Yo.”

“Ey! What up, bitch!” Mie explain in a mock ghetto voice.

Once more she dove into a story full of bumbling, mumbling

schizophrenic men and a crazy rattling, prattling Christian lady.

“Hah! Sounds like you’ll have a book out of this yet, won’t

you?” Paige snorted at Mie’s conclusion.

“That I do, indeed.” Mie pondered. “I’m keeping a journal

for that very reason, actually. You can read it when I escape.”

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Paige chuckled. “Awesome.” They then proceeded to talk

about Paige’s day in school and how she has been.

“Alright you buttface, I have to go, but I’ll call again

tomorrow and yo ass best get on back on the line,” she paused.

“Oh, and before I forget… can you message Miranda for me? Tell

her where I am and ask for her phone number. Please?”

“Will do. See you ‘round, ‘tard.” Paige added before Mie

returned the phone to its receiver.

Shortly after Mie strode back to the empty dining room, the

nurses came around to check the blood pressure of each patient.

As the nursing tech inflated the soft cuff, Mie watched in mild

surprise as the scars lacing the entire length of her arm darken and

felt them pulse with her heart beat at the slight blood constriction.

Well… that’s annoying, she mused, rubbing the now itchy scars as

soon as the man finished and tried to ignore the throbbing pain of

her stitched wound.

“You do those yourself?” The nurse asked.

“That I did.”

While Mie thought it was slightly obvious exactly what the

scars were and where they originated, the nurse seemed slightly –

genuinely- surprised. “But, didn’t hurt?”

“That is slightly the point of self-harm, really. Or, at least one

of them.” Mie commented.

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He furrowed his brow, unable to fully comprehend why or

how somebody could do that to themselves.

“Relieves stress, anxiety. It can ground and calm. Among

other things.” Mie offered. “But,” she added “it really varies from

person to person.” Mie was probably more confused about his

confusion than he was of her scars. “Trust me, it’s a thing. More

common that you might assume.”

The nurse shrugged and meandered off to the next person,

obviously still considering Mie and her words. Mie sighed. You’d

think… this being a mental hospital and all that I shouldn’t have to explain

what self-harm is to a staff member. Well… except from the occasional

anecdote that is. She put the thought aside and continued with her

journaling.

Eventually Mie concluded that Robert had gone to bed, so

she decided to take another saunter through the abysmally tiny

ward once more out of sheer boredom. Perhaps stare at a painting

for a while. Just more and more observing.

More waiting.

Waiting for nothing.

About 9:00 pm evening snacks were served. She ate in

silence. Still watching. Listening. As time passed, people started to

stumble to their respective rooms for the night. Not yet feeling at

all tired, Mie visited the TV room. She only caught a single episode

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of the show when everybody was herded out of the room and

strongly encouraged to go to bed. Lights out.

Oh gods, Mie though, I really hope people here are quiet at night.

And I really hope I’ll actually be able to sleep. She lay in her hard bed

with rough blanket and an okay pillow, simply staring at the ceiling.

Her mind completely empty.

Then tears. Oh gods! She screamed internally. I really fucked up!

Shit…shit. Shit! I’m such a fucking idiot! Why… oh I should have just gotten

better of my own volition! I shouldn’t be here! I’m causing my family to suffer

all because I am lazy. I am selfish. Oh… I am so sorry. A battle raged in

her mind and was so oblivious to everything else she barely noticed

the staff opening her bedroom door every fifteen minutes, as she

warred with herself. On one side was calming, reassured that being

in the hospital was a good step: a needed one. The other side

berated her for being weak and selfish. Mie counted the length of

her battle by how many times she had a flashlight shone on her.

After ten interruptions, Mie lost count. Her thoughts warred on

and on, neither side gaining nor losing ground.

Eventually exhaustion crashed over her body. The stress and

emotion taking their toll. Swiftly, Mie slipped into a surprisingly

solid sleep.

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28

CHAPTER THREE

“Good morning, Mie!” exclaimed an annoyingly chipper

woman. Mie blinked, rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“Oh. Hi. I guess…” came her groggy reply.

“If you could give me your arm, that would be fantastic, mija.

I just need some blood samples the doctors want. Then you can go

to the dining area and get some breakfast. This won’t take very

long at all, rest assured.”

Well… Mie thought as the woman jabbed a needle into her

vein. Having blood vampired away certainly is the weirdest and possibly least

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pleasant wakeup call I have received to date. While the woman was

correct and it was a quick affair, by the time the nurse was done

she had filled and absconded with at least ten –probably more-

vials of Mie’s blood.

As the nurse filled the needed amounts, she –like the man

from last night- asked about the scars on her arms and chest. And

why. While Mie was willing –and did- fill the woman in, she still

couldn’t help but find it quite odd that they had so little idea about

self-harm, yet spent day after day working in the field of psychiatry.

Once more Mie brushed it off, but this time she pondered if there

was a cultural reason that made cutting less prevalent in areas with

a high Latino population than in predominately white areas of the

US. Mie chuckled at the thought of this type of self-injury to be

mainly endemic to crazy Caucasian children. Fucking white people, she

joked to herself, jotting down a note to see if there were any

studies done on cultures and prevalence of self-harm due to mental

illness once she got out.

Mie slipped on her slacks and sauntered out of her room

while buttoning up her shirt. Sadly she wished ties were allowed

and her parents included a waistcoat with her clothes. She was in a

decidingly good mood despite her location and enjoyed dressing

slightly formal when she felt great. She sighed once more. Small

things such as a tie made her day more often than not. It’s tiny

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luxuries that make one’s day, isn’t it? She pondered to herself, still

wishing she had her tie.

Glancing at the clock, Mie was extremely shocked to see that

it was barely rolling over to 6:00 am. Heh, she chuckled. I am never

up this early of my own volition. Despite being awoken to arm

stabbings, Mie was chipper. Happy even. She settled into a chair,

back against the wall, relaxed, and cradled a cup of wonderfully

soothing coffee in her palms. She breathed in the smell. “Just

lovely…” she murmured with a smile. Even if it is decaff. Such

blasphemy that is. Mie made a mental note to tell her fellow coffee

adoring friend about her being subjected to the sacrilege that is

decaffeinated coffee. A chuckle could be had from a dramatic

retelling at least.

“Morning, Mie,” Robert greeted her, pulling out a chair.

“Good morning, Robert.” She replied with a genuine smile.

“Sleep well?”

“Not really, but I’ve had worse,” he paused. “You seem

awfully happy this morning.”

Mie giggled. “Yeah, I am actually. For being ‘depressed’, I’m

in quite the good mood. However, the nurses woke me up by

stealing about a gallon or three of my blood, but I guess I am just

really excited to finally see a doctor for the first time. It should

yield some interesting results, I’d think. And of course I’m very

curious as to what I’ll be diagnosed with and prescribed. Oh and

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the effects they’ll have…” Mie stopped herself before she started

on an overly excited, rambling monologue. There was already one

female that did that enough.

“Well, I wish you luck with that,” he replied just as Kendra

came into the dining room. “Morning, young lady.”

“Hello, Kendra.”

“Good morning, Robert! Good morning, Mie!” Kendra

replied gleefully. “Are you ready for a good breakfast?”

“Indeed we are, I should think,” Mie responded.

Eventually all the patients were seated for their morning

meal. As part of the staff got the food delivered from the kitchen

and accounted for, two nurses flitted from table to table taking the

first blood pressures of the day. They did so before breakfast and

dinner every day for each person and inscribed the information on

their records. Once more, Mie rubbed at her now itchy scars after

her pressure was taken. Finally the trays were starting to be handed

out to their respective owners, one at a time. Each person had their

own personal meal with what they selected for breakfast yesterday

morning when the staff passes out menus.

After everybody else had gotten their assigned trays, Mie was

given one of the left over breakfasts the cooks had selected.

Because she hadn’t been there the previous morning, she was

simply assigned the breakfast that somebody choice but had been

released yesterday. All her meals for the first full day –like breakfast

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and yesterday’s dinner- would be random. Luckily Mie actually had

something she could enjoy. She wolfed it down and put the empty

tray back on the car, then nabbed a third cup of hot coffee.

Mirroring her first day, Robert was fairly amicable and silent

while Kendra stole the stillness in conversation to breathlessly

continue on about Jesus and herself. When they were handed some

menus with their names where each patient could circle the foods

they wanted for the following day’s meals, Kendra further crooned

about Jesus. “Oh, I did pray to Jesus because I am picky about

food. I’m so fortunate! He did listen! He did! He helped me pick

things I could eat. See; put things on the menu for me. Mie, just

put your concerns in His hands and He’ll provide.”

“Mhmm,” Mie nodded sceptically, glancing at Robert. He

simply shook his head slightly in reply as if saying “Yeah, she’s

crazy, I know.” They both let out an exasperated sigh at the same

time.

“Remember, Kendra, what we talked about yesterday,” said

Robert at some point, hoping to cut her off before a repeat of

yesterday’s pseudo-sermons happened again. “Neither of us,

neither me nor Mie, wish to talk about or listen to you jabber on

about Jesus for hours again. Okay?” She agreed but both Robert

and Mie knew that it would be broken before the sun even finished

escaping the horizon.

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Before the menus were collected, Mie slipped two of the

sharpest pencils in her pockets so she would have fresh points for

journaling and sketching later. Due to them being considered a

“sharps” and safety hazard, patients were technically not allowed to

use them unsupervised and definitely not allowed to abscond with

them to keep on their person. Mie was sure that this counted

doubly so to her. Mie’s tiny act of rebellion gave her a small joy.

Little victories, silly victories, those can be the most entertaining

ones.

Once the dining area was cleared and people migrated to the

TV room or back to bed, Mie trotted back to her room to retrieve

her folder that contained the little journal. Quickly pouring the

minor morning events on the pages, she selected a clean sheet of

printing paper and started idly sketching. Mindless doodles: shapes,

forms, the occasional gryphon and mythical creature, a human or

two. Mindless. It allowed her thoughts to meander, for her to just

watch, observe, reflect.

“Morning!” She said, greeting the man that walked up to her

table where she sat alone. “Would you like to join me?” Then

waved at one of the three empty chairs. Mie felt as if he recognised

him from somewhere, but wouldn’t put a name to the face, or even

where she might have seen him.

“Yes, thank you. I’m Bill. And you?” He prompted, holding

his hand out as he did so.

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“Mie. And no problem,” she firmly shook his hand, careful

not to make any movements that would hurt her arm. “So when

did you get roped in here?”

“Just this morning. Well, less than thirty minutes ago

actually. Straight from the ER,” he replied. “Overdose,” Bill

supplied. “Bipolar I. OD’ed while at work, so now I’m here,”

slightly amused, he sighed. “Heh, it seems when I get out I guess I

have to look for a new job first thing!”

“Yeah! No kidding! Money like things are almost sort of

required, ya know,” Mie joked. She quickly discovered that he

actually had, for a while, worked with the vet her mom was friends

with, explaining the nagging feeling of familiarity. “I must have

actually seen you there at the clinic before!” she exclaimed,

explaining how she regularly had to go to the vet’s with her mom

for a myriad of reasons.

Before the hour passed, morning group therapy was starting,

and while they were not exactly mandatory, it was “highly

encouraged” to attend them, so taking Robert’s advice to heart,

Mie set off for group, determined to make her hospitalisation

worthwhile. As Mie and Bill entered the TV room where group

always took place, she glanced around looking for an empty chair.

There were two left. Unfortunately, they were not next to each

other, and one of them was next to Kendra. Not wanting to appear

rude, Mie took the unoccupied seat next to the elderly woman.

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“Hi!” greeted a large, woman with curly black hair, as she

entered the room. “My name is Gloria and I’m a minister here at

one of the local churches.”

Mie groaned inaudibly. While Kendra was abnormally silent

during the entirety of group, Mie merely traded one uncomfortably

religious monologue, for another. Except this one included two

handouts to read from. She couldn’t help but silently complain that

she preferred religion giving science and medicine a wide birth. It

may help some people in this case, but for the past twenty four

hours, she had heard a near constant stream of Jesus and generally

Christian related topics. I mean, if I have to be subjected to religion all day,

why not spice it up with other beliefs? Or perhaps even another strain of

Christianity for variety. Mie grumbled silently to herself. The icing on

the cake, however, was the papers Gloria passed out. Mie’s family

found it ridiculous, but Mie harboured strong, unreasonable hatred

for a few fonts. The handouts contained not one, but both of her

most hated: comic sans and papyrus.

She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the

hospital. Mie kept her fingers crossed that the doctor would not

further continue it or she would try her hard to leave as possible.

Sure, for some, religion was very helpful for people in hospitals and

who are struggling, but Mie was not one of them. She scribbled

away in her journal, angrily venting the discomfort and annoyance

on paper instead of just walking out like she was very tempted to

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do. Gloria eventually called on her to read one of the psalms, but

by that point Mie was so bitter that she refused, flat out. Luckily,

group only lasted half an hour. Mie was the first stand and leave.

She gave Gloria back her pages. “Oh, no, mija these are you for

keep.”

“No thank you. I’m not religious.” Mie practically had to bite

her tongue to not purposely lie saying she was a Satanist or Wiccan

in order to make Gloria feel some of the same slight discomfort

that Mie felt the past day. As wrong as it may be, Mie enjoyed

causing trouble of various sorts when she was irritated.

As Mie exited the room, she noticed a few new faces: young

adults in white and red uniforms with the logo of the local college

embroidered on them. The nurses were giving the small groups a

tour of the wing before released them to go about their purposes.

Sitting with another man Mie didn’t recognise, she found Bill

and proceeded to pull up a chair at the table he was at. “I’m Mie,”

she offered in greeting to the other guy.

“James,” he supplied. Unlike Bill, James was a dark brown

with a toned yet stocky build. His low cut scrub revealed the upper

quarter of a large sigil of Baphomet adorning his chest. The three

of them chatted about arbitrary topics, ranging from diagnoses and

reason for being here, to life stories. Upon hearing that both were

in their thirties, Mie threw up her arms in mock frustration.

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“Am I doomed to be the youngest here?” she cried. Bill

pointed out a kid sitting in the TV room who couldn’t be older

than eighteen. “Oh, yes, I do remember seeing him briefly before.

Looks very sad, the poor boy.”

Two of the uniformed people came by and asked if they

could join us. They introduced themselves as Evan –who was

absolutely flaming in Mie’s opinion- and Amanda. “We’re student

RN’s,” Evan explained.

“Actually this is the first class of the students for this new

programme at school!” Amanda added.

The students were incredibly nice and chipper. Mie

thoroughly enjoyed their presence and was pleased they would be

returned the following week. Their care free attitudes were such a

respite in such a dreary atmosphere. While James and Bill were

upbeat, it was nowhere near the energy levels of the RN students.

This was not the first times either of the boys had been in a

hospital, and James had been in this one before, so both were

rather subdued. It was the first time the RN’s did any sort of

clinicals –at least in a psychiatric hospital- so naturally they were

prone to be more excitable for many reasons.

While the conversation was engaging, Mie grew impatient.

State law mandated that anybody committed –be it voluntary or

not- must see a psychiatrist with in twenty four hours of admission.

It was getting close to that mark. Mie could feel the constant, but

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low, level of anxiety she had for days begin to bubble and rise. To

calm herself, she started sketching and focusing utterly at the

discussion at hand.

After Evan and Amanda took off to continue with their

duties, Kendra almost magically appeared from thing air and sat in

the recently vacated chair. Mie sighed. It seemed the theme of the

week was shoving as much faith down her throat in seven days as

physically possible.

“Hello, Mie!” Kendra said happily.

Mie simply nodded in return. James and Bill took it upon

themselves to make their own introductions. Mie pitied them; they

didn’t know what they were in for. Unsurprisingly, Kendra

launched into talking about Jesus almost immediately. Surprisingly,

Kendra had no reaction when James responded to her choice in

dialogue by taking the opportunity to show off his chest tattoo,

complete with “666” inked just below the seal. Mie had at first

assumed it was because she couldn’t see it, but there was no way

that it would be unrecognisable, even if blurry. The Lord works in

mysterious ways? Mie shrugged.

It never ceased to amaze Mie just how genuinely jovial

Kendra always was. For being “depressed”, she’s oddly cheerful constantly.

Mie shot the boys sympathetic glances as if to apologise for

unwittingly subjecting them to the “Crazy Jesus Lady” that seemed

to constantly follow her around.

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“Mie?” A nurse called. “The doctor will see you now, if you

may follow me, please. I’ll show you to his office immediately.

Enthusiastic, Mie practically jumped out of the chair. Despite being

incredibly nervous, Mie was ultimately more curious about what

would happen than she was worried.

The nurse opened a plain wooden door and ushered Mie

inside. A tall, thin, Indian sat at a desk near the entrance. “Hello,

Mie. I’m Dr. Singh. Please, take a seat and we’ll get started.” Like

with everybody she had talked to thus far, he asked her about

basic biographical information even though it must be in her

records by now, written somewhere in a file he had access to.

“So, you say you have never been to a doctor or seen

anybody about your problems yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen any sort of professional in the

psychiatric field at all before.” She admitted.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“I… I just never felt my issues were enough to warrant time

and money my parents would have to pour into me. I’ve just been

a little depressed. Everybody gets that from time to time. While

technically I know suicidality is not something that everybody

suffers with, that doesn’t automatically mean I should see

somebody. Other people? Yes, I encourage anybody that admits to

me that they are depressed and have suicidal thoughts to see a

doctor, but I could never convince myself I was deserving of such.

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To be honest… I don’t know why. And I still don’t feel that way.

The only reason I am here is because … well, I was forced. But I

am honestly sick of being so depressive all the time and thinking

‘oh, hey, you should kill yourself’ constantly! Death has become the

first thing I think about when something goes even slightly

wrong.”

“Hopefully we can get to the bottom of some of these issues.

Often times the first meeting somebody has with a doctor can set

the tone for the future to come and I will try my best to make this

as helpful and possible to you.” Eventually he launched into the

questions about her psychological situation. “So, you say you’ve

been feeling depressed and suicidal? For how long have you

noticed these feelings?”

“Well… I’ve been severely depressed since July of last year

after I graduated high school, but I think it actually started in April

or May, to be more accurate. So about a year now, really. Back in

2011, during my junior year of school, I was also highly depressed

to the point of intense suicidal ideation. Though, even my parents

have commented that I’ve have a ‘depressive personality’ since

childhood. I agree with them, actually. There has always been some

level of depression my whole life and occasional suicidal thoughts,

but not as overbearing as they have been for the past year now. I

remember distinctly wanting to kill myself via bloodletting when I

was in elementary at some point.’

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‘Though, I think I must add at this point, this has been my

first ‘serious’ attempt in a way. I don’t know how to describe things

very well, but in the past I’ve done things knowing there was a

fairly reasonable outcome of living, but more importantly; there

was a decent chance that I would die. Pills, for example; I’d take

enough to make me sick for a while. I know that I could live or die

from the amount I took and prayed for the latter.”

Once Mie started talking about such things, it was waterfall

of stories that never seemed to end. Without much prompting, Mie

hopped from topic to topic. “Oh, and I’ve been developing

anxieties since January about leaving my house,” she quickly added

after admitting she was not in school and had hardly left her home

–much less her room- since November. Dr. Singh carefully led her

down a series of questions, detailing the extent of her anxiety. “See,

when I leave my house for too long, especially by car, I get so

nervous, worked up, twitchy, and sometimes even nauseous. It’s

gotten worse recently. Even going for a half hour trip to the store

with my parents is too uncomfortable and I avoid it as much as

possible.”

She continued on the theme, finally forcing herself to admit

her qualms and anxieties about interacting with people. “I’m so

fearful about everything I say to certain people. There is always the

dreadful notion looming over me that I might offend or say the

wrong thing and they’ll just… stop talking to me. Conversations

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with people I’m close to are so distressing these days. It’s highly

irrational, I know, yet I can never shake it.”

“Hmm,” said the doctor, writing down illegible notes on a

sheet of paper. “Because of this fear, do you ever find yourself

manipulating those you are scared of losing?”

“No…” she paused. “Well, yes. I think. I mean, I do, I guess,

but at the time it wasn’t my intention to do so. Though, now that I

think of it, I have done and said things to force them to stay.” Mie

furrowed her brow, mind racing. What truly counted as

“manipulation” and what didn’t, she was unsure, but somehow it

seemed to fit. The realisation left her distraught and horribly guilt

ridden.

Changing the subject so he could continue getting the rest of

the information he needed, the doctor then asked, “has your

weight fluctuated by more than ten pounds in the last few months

without purposeful dieting?”

Mie was truly unsure of how to answer. “Well,” she started,

“it is up and down a lot. Sometimes I am ravenous and eat a lot,

then I will lose my appetite a few days later and hardly eat. Yet, I

will also have episodes where I will feel so guilty about eating food,

reasons varying from feeling not worthy of it, to being afraid to

gain weight. This guilt occasionally will cause me to eat less.

Whether or not I actually do restrict my eating, I always have a

maddening urge to try and purge afterwards. It doesn’t depend on

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how much or little I ate, more about the fact that I ate anything,

really. A cookie can set this off as much as a full three course meal

can.”

“And do you act on these desires?”

“Actually, I don’t. Mostly. Try as much and long as I want,

no matter the method, I cannot manage to vomit,” she paused in

brief reflection. “Which it really is a good thing, despite how

frustrating it is. It would be bad for my health and it would only

bring more guilt. Existing and eating food I have done nothing to

earn makes me feel bad enough, but purging the food I consumed

would be worse. Had I bought the food myself or did something to

deserve it, then that would be a non-issue. Besides, I already cut

myself; I don’t exactly need any more bad habits.”

“That is very good of you to recognise, Mie,” he

commented. “And, this cutting, do you mind telling me about it?”

So she told him everything she could think of: from why to

where. Unlike the nurses, he seemed to be very nonplussed about

it. The only time he showed any shock was when Mie told him she

almost exclusively used brand new, clean surgical scalpels. Then

again, most people don’t exactly have tools for surgery laying about

their homes. Mie was very pleased that he actually recognised that

all except the two she was sectioned for, were not suicide attempts

like everybody else did “I don’t think a shallow cut on a thigh or top of

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forearm could kill the average adult,” Mie had to constantly joke when

they assumed they were all from attempts.

“I have to admit, I am almost ritualistic about how I do it. I

can only do it in certain places and with my tools. I can’t use

anything else but something I’ve claimed as mine. While I don’t

clean my injuries or tools as often as I should, I figure that by only

using almost new razors and scalpels, I reduce the likelihood of

getting infections.”

The psychiatrist threw a few more questions her way for

specific information and concluded that “the majority of your

cutting results from trying to relieve obsessive thoughts rather than

emotional distress. Although the stress can cause the thoughts, it is

not always so, yes?”

“Huh,” she snorted. “That sounds about right, to be

honest.” Mie had to admit she had never considered it before,

pondering the times she engaged in self harm.

“Instead of acting upon these thoughts, try and counteract

them by keeping yourself busy. Try to focus your thoughts on

something else like art, exercise, or by talking to somebody. Given

enough time, the obsessive thoughts will run their course. The

more you give into them, the stronger they will be and more of an

imprint they will leave making it harder to stop.”

Dr. Singh was silent as he wrote down some more scribbles

in his notebook. “Alright, Mie,” he said after some time. “We are

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going to start you on Ablify, Pamelor, Celexa, and then Ambien for

your insomnia which is optional to take at night. Now, the Pamelor

won’t be in the pharmacy for another day as we don’t have it, so

you won’t get that one for a while.” He vaulted into a mini

summery on each of the three main medications at Mie’s request,

covering the bare basics.

“Wait,” Mie interjected. “By chance is there some literature

on all these I might read? I am very curious in the more technical

side of things and I can’t exactly pelt you with questions all day or

do web research in here…”

“Ask Belinda, the head nurse. She’ll be able to answer any of

your questions,” he replied. “I am going to schedule you an

appointment with the medical doctor. I want him to check your

wrists and general physical health, but mostly I am ordering tests to

be run on your endocrine system. To check the thyroid in specific.”

He jotted something down once more. “I will see you tomorrow to

check on your responses to the initial doses.”

With that, Mie was dismissed.

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47

CHAPTER FOUR

When Mie returned to the boys, Kendra was gone and the

young, out of place boy had taken her spot. “Mie, this is baby

Thomas” Bill offered.

“Hello Tommy,” Mie said. “So, just how old are you,

anyways?”

“Sixteen.”

“Finally!” she cheered. “I am not the youngest. I’m nineteen,

by the way. Junior? Sophomore?”

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“Junior.”

“Excellent. Interesting year that was, well, personally it was

at any rate. How did you end up in the loony bin with us psychos,

kid?”

“It’s hilarious!” James interjected, having already heard the

story.

“Not for me it isn’t!” cried Thomas. “I got in a fight with my

mom last night. At some point I screamed ‘I’d rather kill myself’ or

something to that affect, and stormed off to bed. I didn’t mean

that, I just blurted it for some reason. Anyways, when I woke up, I

felt ill, as if I caught a cold. I told my mom I was sick. And, well

she automatically assumes it’s because I tried to overdose! She

dragged me to the ER. They ran tests and found I had no drugs –

legal or otherwise- in my body. Yet… here I am. I just don’t get it.”

“Hah, punishment most likely,” Mie commented. “Next

time, you’ll choose your words a mite more carefully, eh?” She

chided, chuckling all the while.

“Yeah,” he responded dejectedly. “No kidding.”

“Cheer up, little Tom!” Billy said.

“Think of this as a vacation,” commented James. “That’s

certainly how I feel about these sorts of events.”

“Exactly!” Mie finished. “Besides, this will at least be an

interesting story for you friends and future children. I guarantee

that you’ll find something marginally worthwhile here, even if it’s

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just a tale or two.” She paused. “Though, do try and make the best

of your time here,” echoing Robert’s advice to her the day prior.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Thomas sounded glum, it was to be

expected. No teenage boy wishes to be locked up anywhere,

whether they need to be or not.

James disappeared for a few moments only to return with a

deck of Uno cards in his hands. Mie, James, and Bill managed to

rope a reluctant Thomas into the game with them. Even though it

was a simple game, it kept the four entertained for hours on end.

“I swear, you either sold your soul to the devil to be blessed

at cards, or you are some type of idiot savant!” Mie exclaimed,

exasperated as James won yet another round. Thus far he had only

lost twice, both to Bill.

“Perhaps I am an idiot savant!” James claimed. “Just, without

the ‘idiot’ part of course.”

“No, especially with the ‘idiot’ part,” she taunted.

“Mie?” A nurse called, once more, the same one as before.

Glaring at James, Mie threaten, “this isn’t over yet, boy.”

“The MD is ready to see you. Just follow me.” So Mie did.

To her dismay, the nurse was leading her to the entry doors for the

ward. “Please stand behind that line,” she said, unlocking one of

the double doors. The nurse then asked Mie to follow right next to

her going down the hall to the medical doctor’s office.

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He was typing on a computer in the corner of the stark

white, almost barren room. “Give me a moment,” he requested

without even turning away from the screen. “So… Mie…” He

stood up and walked over to her. “You may sit.” She did. “How

are you feeling today? Any headaches, backaches, tensions,

cramps?”

“None that I’ve noticed, sir.”

“Good, good.” He pressed a cold stethoscope to her chest,

stomach, and back, listening for any abnormalities. Asking her to

lay down, he then proceeded to prod her abdomen with two

fingers. She sat up and then the doctor gingerly unwrapped her

arms, inspecting the healing wounds before applying clean

bandages on the large incisions. “Very clean, the stiches look good,

and there is not a sign of infection. What do you use to cut

yourself?”

“Generally a surgical grade scalpel,” Mie offhandedly

commented, bored of being asked the same question over and

over.

“Hmm…” while he tried to supress it, she registered a hint

of bafflement.

Heh, it seems I am a very unique creature here, Mie pondered. It

was amusing to realise that nobody seemed to have ever met

anybody like her in this particular hospital.

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“That’s all I need.” He turned to the nurse standing in the

corner and said, “you can take her back now.”

Following close behind her, Mie went down the hall and

back behind the secure doors of the ward. “If you please, they need

you at the nurses’ station immediately.” Then the woman turned

and left.

Shrugging, Mie did as she was told. There she was met by

Luisa, the nurse that had done her intake, and a random nurse

technician. “Hello!” Luisa smiled. “We have to do a daily body

check and the psychiatrist wants documentation on the extent of

your scaring.”

Mie sighed deeply. She didn’t expect it, but this annoyance

wasn’t particularly alarming either and imagined having some

stranger inspecting every inch of skin was going to become

infuriating quite quickly. There was no choice in the matter, so Mie

resigned herself to the inconvenience and walked back to her

room. Luisa closed the door behind them.

“Can you take off your shirt?”

Mie responded by simply undoing rows of buttons and

laying the shirt on the bed behind her. The other nurse turned on

the little camera and took pictures of her arms and torso from

various angles. “Mija,” Luisa whispered. “Why do you do this to

yourself? You are so beautiful and shouldn’t damage your skin like

that!”

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“I enjoy it. It’s relaxing, grounding, relieves boredom. Some

smoke, some drink, I cut. Besides,” Mie sharply stated as she undid

her trousers and slid them down to her ankles so the tech could

snap photos of her thighs and calves. “I can still be beautiful with

my scars.”

“Don’t you worry about what people think of you because of

them? Or that the scars will drive men away?”

“Of course I worry. I worry about everything, so it’s natural

my appearance is included. However, I do try to maintain a ‘fuck

‘em, they don’t matter’ attitude in public. There is no reason I

should be ashamed of them, or embarrassed. Scars happen.

Everybody has them for a medley of reasons, so why should mine

be any different?” She paused. “Furthermore, if somebody cannot

be with me emotionally or sexually for something that is quite

literally only skin deep, then they are somebody I’d prefer keeping

my distance from. A mate that cannot over look simple scars, little

coloured bumps on my flesh, is not worth of my time and love. He

or she can just fuck off because they are petty and uneducated. So

there is that bonus.”

Her tiny lecture rendered the nurses speechless as if they

couldn’t comprehend the lack of shame. “Hold on,” Luisa said

eventually as Mie started to put on her shirt again. “The doc wants

and EKG done.” The lady that took the pictures turned off the

camera and left, only to return with a cart a second later.

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“Cool. Never had one before.”

Silence penetrated the air, not that Mie minded. “Do you

ever cut out of anger?” Luisa eventually asked.

“Rarely. I almost never harm while under emotional distress.

Lack of emotion, obsessive thoughts, and boredom are my main

catalysts. The only exception really would be sadness, well, despair

more accurately.”

“Oh…” She seemed confused. “My niece used to cut herself,

too, when she was a teen, but it was because she had anger issues

and would hurt herself when mad. She grew out of it when she

became an adult, however.”

“Not every self-harmer harms in the same ways or for the

same reasons,” Mie sighed. It was becoming maddeningly tiresome

just how ignorant the majority of the staff seemed to be about

something as simple and prevalent as cutting. At least they are

genuinely intrigued and wanted information. They could have been ridiculing

you or insisting that it’s just all attention seeking dramatics and to “just get

over it”, Mie thought.

Luisa finally seemed to run out of questions and proceeded

to attach the wires to various locations on Mie’s chest. The EKG

took only a minute and Mie was left to do as she pleased once

more. After getting redressed, she trotted back to the boys, eager to

keep play and avenge her losses from earlier.

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As with the last time, there was yet another new man sitting

at the table. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, dark coffee skin

covered extensively in tattoos. Mie pulled up a chair from a nearby

unoccupied table and sat between Bill and Thomas, across from

the man. “Mie,” she stated, introducing herself.

“Carlos,” he responded in kind.

“Now, any of you assholes gonna give me some cards? I

have a score to settle with a particular idiot savant I know,” Mie

jokingly demanded. They continued to play and laugh for hours,

only pausing for dinner. During their conversations Mie learned a

good deal about each of the boys and their respective histories.

Bill and James both had ex-wives. James had a seven year old

son he loved very much. Bill, James, and Carlos had all been

incarcerated many times before –except Bill who only was in jail

once- and also had been in mental hospitals a few times previous.

James used to be in a gang but claimed he finally managed to claw

his way out of it shortly after his son was born and avoided all

social media sites because of it. Thomas and Mie were the only

ones without stories of any kind and mostly listened.

Shortly after dinner Mie excused herself to call her parents

knowing they would be interested in hearing about the meetings

with the doctors. After telling her mom how she was actually

having fun and was enjoying all the socialisation that she was doing

with other patients, Mie’s mother quipped, “Now, don’t you dare

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go about picking up any boys while you are there. We don’t want

you coming home having acquired a troublesome boyfriend!”

“Hah!” Mie laughed heartily at the thought. “Don’t worry,

Mom. I have yet to meet an attractive guy or girl yet, at any rate.

Besides… not to be judgemental or anything, but they are all

crazier than I! And that’s saying something,” she giggled. “Not to

mention they are all older than be by a significant amount.”

Mie’s father, and later sister, was eventually passed the phone

in succession. To each, Mie recounted her meetings and the

harrowing adventure that was Uno. Paige found the overly

dramatic sounding trials and tribulations of the game immensely

amusing for some odd reason.

Patients were only allowed to use the phone for fifteen

minutes at a time, but nobody really obeyed that rule as it was

hardly enforced. Following in that fashion, Mie often used doubled

the “suggested” time. After almost an hour of chatting, she finally

ran out of things to say and people to say them to. She bid her

family a good night.

Paige had given Mie the phone number of her best friend

Miranda. She punched the sequence in into the key pad and waited

for it to dial. “Bueno?” came the voice from over the phone.

“Holla, bitch. I’m officially insane!” Mie greeted.

“Mie!” Miranda yelled, “woman, what did you do this time? I

told you running around in public singing ‘they’re coming to take

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me away!’ while laughing manically was going to get you

committed.” She joked.

“Yeah, you did. Perhaps one day I will listen to my very wise

friend and do as she says.” Mie got her best friend up to date on

the shenanigans she managed to get herself into over the past two

days.

“Plead the blood of Jesus?”

“Yes, I am not fucking kidding you. That’s what she says,

and she says it a lot.”

“I… I have to remember that!”

“Trust me; I don’t think I’ll ever forget it! It is the most

ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Miranda laughed, “same here. If you get nothing else out of

your stay, you at least got that.”

“No shit!” Mie giggled. She then told the story of poor little

Thomas and how he got locked up and is being traumatised by all

the crazies. “Though, I’d be more than a bit worried and scared if I

was suddenly committed and was actually relatively normal.

Though, he won’t be normal for long!”

Finally caught up on her friend’s tale, Miranda filled Mie in

on what had happened with her the past few days. “I finally

switched my major!” She said excitedly.

“Woman! Finally! I’ve only been telling you for probably ten

thousand years to do that.”

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“Yeah, I know!” Miranda excitedly chatted about the new

classes she was taking. “I am the best in my costume tech class, and

my professor already says I’m her favourite student!”

Mie was happy her friend finally switched her major to

something she actually wanted to do. It was a source of constant

unhappiness for her friend and Mie kept telling her she’d only be

miserable for the rest of her life if she kept with it instead of doing

what she loved. Apparently her friend finally took her words to

heart.

“Mie?” Miranda asked, the tone of her voice darkening.

“Mie, I am glad you are still here. I know it might not mean much,

but I would have missed you so much it would have been

unbearable. And, I’m happy you are finally getting help, I just wish

it wouldn’t have been in this way.”

Silence. Mie wasn’t sure about what to say. “Sorry,” was all

she could manage.

“Don’t be,” Miranda responded. “Just… try to get better is

all. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the ER and that I can’t come to

visit in the hospital. Between school, money, and you being so far

away…”

Mie cut her off. “Don’t worry; I am well aware how much in

the middle of nowhere I am. Besides, I don’t expect people to be

able to come see me anyways. When I manage to escape captivity,

we’ll have to meet up and chill for the day.”

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“Agreed.”

They chatted a bit more, but Mie had to go as somebody was

impatiently waiting outside the door for her to finish, and returned

to the table.

The Uno battles then began anew. Mie had only managed to

win once out of dozens of rounds, but she considered it an epic

victory against James. Everybody but her had won multiple times,

but that hardly bothered Mie, it was still very entertaining.

Mie practically jumped off her seat as loud shouting erupted

from the other side of the room, tearing her out of the focus on

her journaling. The wild haired, short schizophrenic man she had

first saw upon entering the ward was yelling at a tall, thin man who

was also schizophrenic and also yelling. She had noticed they never

seemed to get along, so while the abrupt commotion was alarming;

it was hardly all that unexpected, considering.

The short man shoved the taller one slightly. A blur

movement resulting in him spitting blood at the wall. It splattered

from base to ceiling. His lip bled, pools forming on the floor as

blood poured down. Before there was time for him to retaliate and

replicate the punch, a group of staff members and police officers

pulled the men apart so a full blown brawl wouldn’t start. After

much squabbling, they were sent to their individual rooms and the

nurses gave them sedatives so they would relax and possibly sleep.

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Tranquilisers, giggled Mie, the straight jacket of the modern asylum.

Which she thought was fairly accurate to her knowledge. Mie was

sure that most mental hospitals long since abandoned the practice

of constraints and padded rooms unless there was absolutely no

alternative. For the most part, it was easier to just give a shot or

pill.

The fight had gained a small crowed looking out from the

nearby TV room, only a few feet away. Everybody was enthralled

and fascinated in what had just occurred. Confrontations were

exciting enough to watch in normal life, but when days are spent in

perpetual boredom, events are only magnified in their

entertainment values.

Hour after hour steadily passed by, and at some point

Kendra reappeared for a while before going to bed, as did an older

man named who introduced himself as Julio. He was an older man,

heavy greying eyebrows with equally grey hair. Kind and warm,

Julio was a pleasant person to be around and talk to.

The generally nocturnal Mie was exhausted before it was

even 10:00 PM and took to bed for the day. Despite her sleepiness,

as she was worried that nightmares and extensive rumination

would keep her awake. Eventually she just shrugged, too tired to

care and rolled over sleep.

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61

CHAPTER FIVE

Mie groaned as she kicked her blankets off. She was still

exhausted. Sleep was fickle and fitful. As much as she wanted to

just roll back over and try to get more rest, the light blue twilight of

the impending sunrise informed her that wasn’t going to be an

option she could take. Time to wake up. The sun was rising. Unless

there was a medical reason for it, the staff did not like people

sleeping in and definitely did not like them missing meals –doubly

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so with patients with potential eating disorders. If she didn’t go

now, Mie would only be roused a moment later.

She shuffled to the dining area soundlessly and immediately

grabbed a mug of coffee as soon as she could get her paws on one.

Kendra, Robert –who she had hardly seen yesterday-, James and

Bill joined in shortly after. Mornings were generally pretty still and

conversations were oft kept to a minimum by some unconscious

agreement. Nobody was ever really awake at that hour anyways.

Lack of sleep and caffeine coupled with the sedative side effects of

most of their medications, silence was simply a natural result. It

suited them all well. The peace of the morning was relaxing and

didn’t need to be tarnished by overly exuberant chatter. During and

after breakfast, however, was a different story.

Laughter radiated form the table Mie was sat at. Jokes,

interesting tales, and comedic retellings of life stories were passed

around. At first Mie had always assumed that jovial behaviours

would be an outlier in a place generally known for being so grim,

but realised it was because of the location that caused such

boisterous manners among patients when socialising. The hospital

seemed to foster an air of openness and comradery. Everybody

knows that the person next to them is just as crazy as they are, that

their past is less than perfect, and that they are bound to have

shared many of the same types of events or traumas. There was

almost no hatred and disgust. Empathy, Mie thought, is so rare to find

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for us so of course people are going to indulge in such a rarity when found. It’s

only natural. And, consciously or not, this place could really take an

emotional and mental toll on somebody if spirits were not kept up.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” announced Robert as they were

filling out there meal plans for the next day.

“Really?” Mie asked. He nodded. “Well, I wish you the best

of luck, sir, and I hope for the best.” He nodded again.

Kendra crooned on about how she was going to miss him

and how she, Robert, and Mie should meet up when they all got

out; have dinner together, visit each other, perhaps even attend

church together. In her usual fashion, she rambled on and on

about how God put them here together so they could meet and

help each other.

Bill and James left rapidly after Kendra started speaking. Mie

glared enviously. Damn my courtesy and natural instinct to be nice,

indulgent and generally pity this woman. Kendra gave Robert and Mie

her phone number so they could all stay in contact with each other.

While Kendra didn’t seem to, Mie noticed that Robert never gave

her his number or contact information, and never explicitly agreed

or refuted Kendra’s plans. Mie noticed this because she did exactly

the same: gave no contact information and not agreeing or refusing

to these proposed meetings.

Robert and Mie both seemed to not want to crush Kendra’s

dreams. Mie knew that flat out refusing right while in the hospital

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would only halt her progress if any was being made. She did feel

really guilty about playing along, however. But I do need to be more

selfish in such cases, on occasion. This woman is driving me mad and I really

do need to focus on my own mental health more than anybody else’s like I

normally do, especially once I get out.

Unlike the previous day, this one was slow in comparison.

Kendra jabbered the morning away, as per usual. She may have

spoken constantly, but her story reserves were painfully finite,

causing the exact same boring tale to repeat many times over. Mie

wasn’t sure if this was because of a lack of stories or if she simply

didn’t know she was repeating herself. Both, Mie concluded to

herself.

“When you come over, Robert, I’ll have to remember to

throw away all the alcohol. I have lots of bottles in one of my

shelves. They’ve been there for years,” she added after speaking at

length once more of them all meeting. This wasn’t the first time

she had said as much, either.

Mie quickly glanced at Robert assuming the oft repeated

statement was bound to rouse indignation and offence. Mie

assumed correctly. The struggle to not snap and berate Kendra for

her brazen comments

“Kendra, stop. Now.” Mie stated sternly. “Look, I know you

want to be helpful and nice and all that jazz, but you are doing the

exact opposite. The mere existence isn’t enough to cause a relapse

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and it’s absolutely fucking insulting, utterly degrading to insinuate

that, among other things you have implied. You hardly know him,

his condition, nor the reasons and triggers for it. So please, shut the

fuck up about it. It’s pissing me off and him even more so.”

Robert looked extraordinarily grateful for Mie’s lecture.

“Exactly,” was his only comment on the matter. Kendra apologised

and promised to bare it in mind. Mie figured she’d forget it within

the hour, but the world is a strange place and to Mie’s pleasant

surprise, Kendra never mentioned it again.

Morning group that day wasn’t religious to her relief. Instead,

it was simply facts and stats on narcotics, drug use and how they

affect the body, especially in terms of mental health and disorders.

Because both topics had very little to do with Mie personally, she

zoned out the majority of the time, only passively listening to what

the social worker was leading group or what fellow patients said.

Despite the delightful lack of religious overtones on the

social worker’s side, that could never stop the ever devout Kendra

from brig Him up with every opportunity and tale as if she was the

next Messiah. The tall schizophrenic that punched the shorter one

in the face yesterday seemed to follow suit with Kendra: every

topic could and would have God inserted into it. It was almost

comical as it was hard to understand what he was mumbling about

in the first place, then the fact he couldn’t string together a logically

coherent sentence well only added to it.

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Mie chuckled as the social worker danced around Kendra

and the man’s comments. She tried with hard won success to bring

the topic away from the focus being God to the focus being the

self. The acrobatics required was amusing, making group slightly

more interesting. Mie pitied the woman for having to deal with not

only one person, but two, just like Kendra. She may have only have

dealt with Kendra for two days, but time always felt more infinite

when annoyed or in an unpleasant, awkward situation. The social

worker managed with some practiced grace, however.

The afternoon was filled with more card games. Mie’s little

group grew to the point that they had to push –with permission-

three of the tables together in order to seat everybody in one

general location. Two of the tables where stretched into one and

was designated the game corner. Mie, James, Bill, Carlos and

Thomas sat on the game side, and the third table had Julio, Robert,

Kendra, and another woman Mie had never spoken to.

Hours after dinner, the psychiatrist called Mie into his office.

The appointment only lasted fifteen minutes at most. He was

simply checking to see how she was feeling and to inquire as to any

negative side effects Mie may have noticed for her new drugs. She

admitted there was nothing except she had been exhausted all day.

“Though, I’m not sure if that is the medication or just me being the

introvert I am and simply not being used to this level of social

interaction.”

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“How have you been getting along with others so far?” Dr.

Singh inquired.

“For the most part very well… but there is this one patient

Kendra?” Singh nodded, knowing exactly who she was talking

about. “Well, I mean, I’m not religious at all, and this woman

thinks I am some ‘born again Christian’ even though I never said I

was. It’s really tedious, but I don’t want to say I’m not and hurt her.

She spends the whole day talking about Jesus, and while it’s

extremely, unbearably annoying, I tolerate it because I think it does

her good and gives her hope.”

He agreed and told Mie that it was very kind of her to do

that, and that it would help that particular case. Casually he lightly

chuckled and added that she was no different with him and

assumed, he too, was a Christian.

The doctor, seeing no ill effects, decided to up the dosages.

Realising that the session was coming to a close soon Mie asked,

“um, if it’s allowed… my parents want to know what I have. Or

what you think is wrong… If I’m allowed to know that is. I mean,

I’m curious too and want to understand… and…” Her hands

shook and sweat as she fumbled with how to phrase the question.

The rapid beating of her heart felt loud in her head, it was almost

painful.

“Yes, you do have the right to know. Here, let me explain it

to you,” Dr. Singh said kindly. “See, every diagnosis is divided by

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axis. The first three are the ones you would be more interested in.

For you, your Axis I diagnoses are major depression, agoraphobia,

and bulimia. Axis II would be a mixed personality disorder; mostly

borderline but with a little histrionic, too. Your Axis III -which is

for general medical conditions, especially those that may play a

factor in mental health- has nothing on it as there is nothing

physically wrong with you at this point in time.” He concluded the

meeting by informing her that he would be leaving Friday –

tomorrow- for a psychiatric convention in San Francisco and

would be gone for a week. “Tomorrow will likely be our last

appointment.”

The evening was peaceful and still. The group forgo more

rounds of Uno in favour of swapping stories. Mie learned that

Carlos was actually eighteen rather than mid-twenties as she first

assumed, which she found hilarious she had also assumed that both

Bill and James were in their twenties. I guess I just suck at guessing ages,

she concluded.

An hour before evening snacks, Mie saw a woman sit down a

few tables down from them carrying a folder similar to that which

Mie received upon admission. The first thing Mie noticed was that

her hair was a lovely shade of red, similar to her own, almost

matching the crimson Elmo hoodless hoodie she wore.

Mie’s tablemates eventually invited the woman to sit with

them and pulled up an extra chair from the barren table next to

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them. Mie tried not to –as horribly rude and hypocritical as it was-

to stare at the woman as she took off her jacket. Her skin was a

beautifully pale, silken cream colour. One wrist she had a tattooed

ankh and other had an Egyptian styled feather. What really caught

her eye, however, were the long since faded scars. They extended

from hand to shoulder, from what Mie could see. It was painfully

ironic to gawk, but she could not tear her eyes away.

Mie had never seen anybody in real life that had any sort of

self-harm scaring, much less any like hers. But it wasn’t the scars

that ultimately piqued Mie’s curiosity, it was astounding amount of

similarities they seemed to have on just the surface. Both had red

hair, paper pale skin riddled with scars, Mie loved Egyptian history

and this woman obviously had an interest in Egyptology, and while

Mie had been planning to get an ankh tattooed this woman actually

had one. She also seemed well educated and well-spoken thus far.

The only main differences were that her eyes were a stunning pale

green and Mie’s were dark blue, and while the woman didn’t seem

to be too much older than her, there was a –barely- noticeable age

difference.

Time passed much too quickly for Mie’s liking now. The

woman, Violet, was an exceptionally fascinating individual:

interesting and drama filled past, well read in many subject areas,

hilarious, beautiful, and shared many of the same opinions as Mie

held.

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Some point at night, the boys had left the table to watch

cartoons before bed, leaving Mie and Violet to converse with each

other.

“Are you borderline?” Violet asked out of the blue.

“I think so. I mean, I have the majority of the symptoms and

the doc mentioned something along the lines of ‘a mixed

personality disorder of borderline’ with some traits of that one that

starts with an ‘h’ that I can’t pronounce.”

“Histrionic?” Violet supplied.

“Yup, that’s the one!” Mie confirmed.

Violet chuckled. “I could tell. You looked almost out of

place, save for your scars. They gave you away as borderline.”

Mie nodded. While she knew that it wasn’t exclusive to BPD

suffers, it was statistically more likely for a self-harmer to have that

disorder than not in a hospital setting based on some studies she

once read months back.

It was very comfortable for Mie to talk about any subject

with Violet even though she only met her an hour or so ago. The

relaxation Mie felt with her was akin to friends catching up after

haven’t seeing each other for years.

They spoke at length about each other’s lives and

complained thoroughly about the lack of things to do here. “In the

other hospitals, there are groups, activities, and just simply things

to do and going on almost constantly. This hospital used to be the

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same.” Violet explained. “But from what I hear, this place got

bought by a private company and is now going bankrupt, which

means no funding, which means little staff and activities.”

“Well, that is rather annoying,” commented Mie.

“Yes, it is. I tried to get in at the other one I like, but they

didn’t have any beds and forced me here.”

“Oh, yeah, this was the first place the checked for me, and

they had spots, so… now I’m dying of boredom here.”

“Did you bring anything with you? Like a book or crayons?”

Violet inquired.

“Not a thing! I came directly from the hospital; all my

parents brought me were some clothes. I didn’t even know I could

bring anything or I would have asked them to bring some books.”

“Well… my boyfriend is actually going to visit me tomorrow,

I’ll see if he’ll bring my crayons and colouring book. I know you’re

an artist and it’s nothing compared to your normal art supplies, but

it’s entertaining nonetheless!”

“Fuck yeah! I haven’t used crayons in…years! I’d love to use

them again.”

Violet excused herself so she could call her boyfriend before

the phone room was locked and they were both shooed off to bed

for the night. When they finally were, Mie went to sleep genuinely

excited for the next day so that she could continue talking to and

learning more about Violet.

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73

CHAPTER SIX

It was a busy day for Mie. Friday meant it was her third full

day in the hospital, and because she wasn’t there for a simple 72

hour hold or ready to me discharged, Mie was assigned a “support

team” which consisted of a social worker, the head nurse, her

psychiatrist, and a few other people she couldn’t remember. Her

social worker Richard was a short, fairly muscular man with a

beard, dressed casually in plaid and jeans. His accent was very

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stereotypical for somebody born up north in the upper half of the

southern US such as the Virginias or the Carolinas.

Her team sat at a large half circle desk, each person had a

clipboard which they wrote her responses to her questions in. Most

of the questions were the normal, standard ones which she had

been asked at least three times since her admission. By now her

answer were rote reflexes. They were general enough to be simple,

but gave enough detail that she wasn’t asked very many questions

to clarify. It pleased by to see that they all remained reserved, yet

seemed genuine in their interviewing. The fact that nothing seemed

to surprise them was reassuring. Nothing lasts, however, and

predictably there was always one subject that she shocked them all

with; her self-harm.

It wasn’t the scars, the ideas behind it, the actions

themselves, which stunned them; rather it was her personal

relationship with it. When asked the ever constant, “why?” her

response was no different than normal, “it grounds mostly. Stress,

anxiety, depression, repetitive thoughts, feeling unreality… all

those go away. It feels nice and releases endorphins. Why wouldn’t

I want to do it?” Somehow in a flurry of conversation, Mie

admitted to something she hadn’t thought of mentioning it before.

“But… I do make the conscious decision to do it. If I don’t want

to, I’m not going to, simple as that. And I only do it in specific

locations with my tools. My tools are defined as a box of razors I

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have collected and kept almost immaculate. I could be triggered to

all hell and have some random object with a sharp edge sitting right

next to me, if that object is not one of mine and I’m not in my

room… I won’t touch it. At all. I might be tempted, but I’d never

allow it. Blah, blah, health and safety reasons, infections, blah blah,

sure yes, that is part of it and my ‘official’ reason should anybody

ask, but honestly, being that much in control of something that

seems very… well, controlling, and that many others can’t is

morbidly fun. Empowering even.”

“So then why,” one of the women started, “do you do it?”

“I literally just answered that question. My control and

enjoyment of it, doesn’t negate the previous reasons.” Mie was

suddenly torn between exasperation and amusement. On one hand,

the figured she had been clear enough and wasn’t that hard to

compared. On the other, it was nice to talk about things in decent

detail –confusion may have been an added benefit to for the more

sadistic side of her.

Eventually they got all they needed and the support team

dismissed her. Richard led her back to the ward and informed her

that sometime before lunch they were going to do a psychiatric

evaluation on her and that his assistant would be administering it.

Mie was excited to see what all it entailed as she had never had any

tests of the sort before.

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The doors closed behind Mie just as she heard somebody call

her name and saw Robert walking towards her with a bag in his

hand. “Mie, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes and I wanted to tell you

good luck before I do.”

“Oh, thank you, sir. And, of course, I wish the same to you,”

she responded.

“While it’s been nice talking to you, I honestly hope I never

have to see you in here again.”

She nodded, “I am certainly going to try not to come here

again, that’s for sure.” A nurse then came to escort Robert out of

the ward, leaving Mie to walk alone back to her friends at the table.

While Mie knew she would miss chatting with the kindly older

man, above all she hoped they never met unless it was by chance

outside of the hospital or any situation like it.

As soon as Mie settled into a harrowing game of Uno with

Violet, Bill, Thomas and James, Richard’s assistant Amanda asked

if she could have a moment with her. “It should only take a few

minutes; these evals are not very long.” They sat at an empty table

in the corner of the dining area. Amanda had a very thick southern

American accent, Georgian was Mie’s assumption, and was very

kind. She seemed to honestly love her job thus far and was going

to graduate with her Master’s degree later that year. They idly

conversed for a while, both genuinely interested in each other.

Questions were passed back and forth, Mie’s were mostly about

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how school was going and how she was enjoying to job, Amanda’s

were about her history in relation with this hospital visit.

The evaluation had to be done, so before too much time was

wasted, Amanda started by asking her about her current mood,

feelings, and thought patterns. Each question had a series of

answers and more than one could be checked. “Normally,”

Amanda started, “the evaluator asks a question that will fit in this

section and check off the boxes based on their responses. If you

remember how the meeting with the doctor went the first time, it’s

kind of like that. They give you open ended, non-leading questions.

But your intelligence and the fact you are reading the form upside

down faster than I can ask them, we can simplify the process!

Which is really cool!”

“Hah, yeah, I do read a little too much.” She giggled,

“though I have to admit, I do enjoy being able to use and

understand the actual medical terms, it cuts down on the amount

of round about descriptors on both mine and the doctor’s side.”

Occasionally Mie would have to fumble about and describe the

term that she was looking for, but it was still a very smooth

process.

“Why such the strong dislike of yourself?” Amanda asked

after completing the self-image portion.

“I just… don’t. Not exactly a simple question, but not all

that complex either. In all honesty, I would like to change almost

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every aspect about my being, the only exception being my eyes

which I am fairly vain about. I would love to be thinner. I wish my

hair not necessarily less curly, but I wish it wasn’t so stubborn to

style. I feel I am horribly undereducated. Sure, smarter than a good

number of people, but that isn’t saying much, really. If it were

possible, I would even change my voice as I find it grating. My

attitude and personality are abysmal at best! It’s getting to the point

where I am considering forcing and adopting a completely new

personality. Sure, it was be a mask, but at least the mirror will show

something I don’t mind staring back at me. Now, I wouldn’t

necessarily change myself for what other’s like, but I would be

changing myself to what I like.“ She stopped and corrected herself,

“or so I tell myself. Of course, it was impossible for there to be no

influence on what I perceive to be my ideal self-based on from the

people around me and on society. However, every single change

will be to my standards, not some ambiguous, faceless societal

construct.”

Amanda argued, disagreeing with each item she wished to

change and the reasons, saying things such as “but you are not

ugly! But you are very smart! But you are well spoken!”

Time after time, Mie countered with differ iterations of the

same answer: “By your standards, yes. While, I am happy I meet

them, I simply don’t meet my standards. Almost everything about

me could be so much better, for the things I can change, why not

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work on upgrading them so I do fit my standard. They are not

impossible or unreasonable. Being in a lower, yet healthy weight,

reading even more books than normal, practicing being more

eloquent textually and verbally, these are all things that can be done

by simple measures: being active both mentally and physically.

Now, recreating my whole personality is impractical, but it can be

done if I really need to. But, masks are easy to take on and off, so

more likely, I will just develop better façades and systems for

them.” To her, these things made sense. A reinvention of the self

was a necessity at times. Mie found that certain situations required

a different faction of herself. It was still genuinely her, just an

altering iteration. Making her base identity match that of her

favourite mask didn’t seem that odd of an idea in her mind. Then

again, it seems the whole of me is odd…

As Amanda had promised, the evaluation in fact didn’t take

any longer than fifteen minutes and Mie was free to return to the

group of what she now considered her friends. She yawned as she

took a sit next to Violet whom informed her that while she was

gone Thomas was released and taken home by his mother. The

exhaustion had been plaguing her since morning hit once more

after she sat down, and the one nap she did attempt to take was

rudely interrupted by a nurse saying she was not allowed to sleep.

Luckily, the Violet and James had quickly had her rapt in a

discussion of various old table top games.

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“You guys suck and I hate you ‘five ever’,” Mie complained

loudly. “I’ve always wanted to play Dungeons and Dragons, and all

those shiny games… Sadly I never got to. I mean, a group of kids

at my school had a whole DnD thing going on, but they always

played at the Dungeon Master’s house –for obvious reasons- and

he lived an hour away from me.”

Mie listened to Violet and James talk about many of the

games and stories they had played over the years on these games.

“I recently got my son into it,” James said, mentioning the small

group he was the DM for. The two girls both agreed that it was

rather adorable to introduce kids to those types of games.

“Besides the adorableness, there of course is the added

psychological benefits of such a highly social and imagination

heavy activity.” Mie commented as lunch was being brought to the

patients. The dining area filled up quickly the noontide meal,

bustling with noise and activity. Kendra and her new friend joined

them at the table. The lady introduced herself as Olivia. She was a

middle school teacher with black curly hair, plump limps, and

gentle smile. I will never understand the logic in tattooed makeup, Mie

thought, trying not to stare at the badly done inking.

Food trays were always passed out in alphabetical order; the

new patients getting theirs last as they were assigned a random left

over. Mie was puzzled when Violet -whose last name started with a

‘M’- got her tray first. It wasn’t too concerning, sometimes things

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get out of order, simple as that. There had been mention of

possibly getting out of hospital today when her parents came to

visit, so Mie eventually figured the people that handled food

counted her as gone already. Just as the paranoia that something

had gone wrong, she heard her name being called out. “Here!” she

stated, raising her hand so they could see where she was seated.

Mie watched a guy in a green button down shirt carried, not

a tray, but a tiny white foam box in his hands. He gave her the box

and mug on the table in front of her, leaving to get the pitcher to

fill her cup. Inside the box was spaghetti and a small salad. Mie

looked around and recovered she didn’t get the normal plastic

utensils with the food. The man came back with a pitcher full of

water. As he filled the mug, she asked if he could bring her a fork

as she didn’t get any silverware.

“Nope. You are not allowed to have any silverware.”

Mie was speechless. Dumbfounded. Enraged. Mie knew

exactly why she wasn’t allowed a simple fork, and it bothered her to

no end. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mie growled,

turning to Violet. “This is fucking nonsense. Seriously. Okay, I

have to concede that, given the glaringly obvious facts, this

shouldn’t have surprised me. Hell, it wouldn’t have even bothered

me IF they treated me this way from day one. But no, I’ve been

here almost four fucking days already, I’ve been good, I’ve

attended every single fucking group including the religious ones, I

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take my medications, I never make a fuss, I’m always up in the

morning, I’m always lying in bed by 10:30pm, I am kind to

everybody, I talk to my doctors honestly and never hide things

from them. If anything, I’ve been the perfect patient here! It’s

fucking bullshit on so many levels for them to pull this fuckery

now!” Mie picked up the box and snapped the lid shut. “Besides,

how the fuck am I supposed to eat pasta without a fork? I’m sure

as fuck not eating like a dog. Mental hospital this may be, but I’m

not that crazy.” Her chair squalled as she pushed it, standing up.

She marched directly to the trash can and practically slammed the

untouched food in the bin. Her dramatics provided her with some

sort of satisfaction; her point was made and it was a nice catharsis.

I’ve been eating way to much anyways, Mie reasoned. For some

reason, being in the hospital made her not guilty in the least when

she ate, except a for one little thought that reminded her that she’d

regret it when she got home. For now it was easily ignored

however.

Pushing the foreboding feelings about food out of her mind,

she asked Violet on her take about what had just happened. She

had been in and out of countless mental hospitals before, but the

main reason that Mie wanted her opinion was because Violet

would have a lot of experience when it came to the treatment of

self-harmers. Their diagnoses seemed to be similar, so they should

–in theory- be handled roughly the same.

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“No, I agree, that is bullshit. I wouldn’t have put up with it

either. Actually, I’d have demanded to speak with somebody

immediately,” Violet responded.

“Yeah,” Mie sighed. “If this happens again, I’m going to

demand to speak with my social worker Richard about this. I will

not be treated like some stroppy child that can’t control herself. I

am not a criminal or three years old!” She paused, her voice was

rising again and the last thing she wanted to do was act like a child

after declaring she was not. “I’ve explained everything to them,

they know I’m not going to abscond with a plastic butter knife and

start hacking myself to bits in the corner of my bathroom! But

honestly, had they did this from the beginning, I wouldn’t have

questioned it at all. I might have been annoyed, but there would be

no complaints.”

In her usual fashion, Mie proceeded to keep ranting to the

people at the table. When angered, it was often vary hard to switch

topics, even if she made and kept repeating her points over and

over. After excessive complaining, the topic finally bored her.

After the chaos that was lunch; Mie, Violet, James and Bill

set up a game of Monopoly. With hours of nothing to do, in a

hospital, Monopoly was the perfect game to pass the time away.

Three hours in, James left to work out in his room before diner.

Soon after, Mie and Violet teamed up against Bill. Together they

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owned every single property on the board with exception of the

four railroads. Together, they owned almost no money.

“First,” Mie started, “we had the idiot savant of cards,

now… we have… Are you sure you’re not Jewish, Bill? I think you

are, hoarding all that money and all.”

Everybody giggled. “I swear I am not!” He defended.

“Bullshit!” Mie called.

Knowing they were going to lose soon anyways, Mie and

Violet, and James conceded the game to Bill. “We’ll have our

revenge next game,” they both swore.

As it was, the girls had near perfect timing. “Mie?” Luisa

called. “Mie, you have some visitors.” Mie jumped up excitedly.

She had almost forgotten her parents promised to see her that day.

Her family lived too far away for them to visit her every day,

especially with her father working during the day, but they

promised to see her the first day her father had off. All three of

them had been looking forward to visiting day. “Just follow me and

I’ll take you to the visiting room!” Luisa said excitedly.

“Yay!” She squeaked. “I’m so happy they were able to

come.” Luisa smiled at Mie’s excitement. “See, they live over an

hour away and my father works during the day, so today was the

only day they’ll be able to see me.” She explained when Luisa asked

why they hadn’t visited before.

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Unlike when she saw the doctor, Mie was not surprised

when they had to leave the ward. To allow visitors on in the ward

would pose a safety and security issue to everybody in the hospital.

Heart painfully beating in her chest, Luisa ushered the exuberant

Mie in to the visiting room and closed the door behind her.

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87

CHAPTER SEVEN

The visiting room was actually two rooms with the

conjoining partition taken down. It was also dual purpose; a ping

pong and air hockey table, stereo, and a dart board. Mie had to

wonder if the dart board was even allowed to be used, given the

nature of the game being to throw sharp pointy objects at a wall.

Green chairs were littered around the room in groups of three. A

few patients had already claimed some of them. Unsure of where

to sit, Mie simply chose the first empty arrangement and sat down.

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The patients already seated were sullen. They sat with

hunched backs and shoulders staring at the ground; postures

admitting just how tired and worn they were of the hospital, of

their illnesses, and seemingly of life itself. None of them could

have been under the age of thirty-five, Mie speculated. Mie was a

sharp contrast to them in terms of age and attitude. She shivered. If

nothing else, I never want to become them.

Relaxing, she gingerly crossed her arms and put her feet on

the ping pong table to wait. Suddenly conscious of her shirt, Mie

pulled at the sleeves to try and cover her heavily scarred arms. They

sleeves ended at her elbows naturally, but to her relief, Mie was

able to hold the edges in her hand and pull them all the way down

without damaging the aqua cloth. While her parents knew she had

been cutting for several months now, Mie had never worn anything

to reveal them: long shirts, jackets, gloves, trousers, tights; all

staples of her wardrobe to insure they never saw an inch of her

flesh. The only times she neglected to cover up besides when she

was laying in the hospital after her failed attempt, was when she

was going out with friends and away from the eyes of her parents.

With that issue quickly and satisfactorily resolved, Mie

continued to try and relax. Her anxiety was starting to gnaw at her.

Waiting was always a problem. It didn’t matter what she was

waiting for, the moment she was forced to do so, she would start

getting panicky; her feet and fingers tapped quickly in attempt to

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dispel the building energy. Knowing that if she didn’t get herself

and her thoughts managed quickly, an anxiety attack would result.

Breathe, she reminded herself. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. She

focused on feeling her lungs fill with air, then deflate as much as

she could force them. When Mie figured she was beginning to level

out enough, she let her mind and eyes wander around the bright

room.

Shortly after she settled, a man entered the room; the first of

the visitors. Instantly she realised who he was despite never having

seen –or even heard of him until yesterday- before. Huh, that must

be the infamous Phineas, Mie thought. Violet had mentioned her

boyfriend a few times last night and today, generally when referring

to some of her life stories or obscure knowledge she had learned

from him. Mie finally understood what Violet meant when she said

he had a certain presence about him. His walk was that of a

confidant man, a walk that was sorely out of place in such a dim

gloomy place where both patient and staff alike sulked almost

meekly down the halls. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched

him stride across the room.

She was relieved when he sat in the back corner behind her,

that way she wouldn’t be tempted to observe further. The last thing

she wanted was to appear to be some crazy creeper, especially if

she and Violet were to see each other outside the hospital walls.

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She entertained her observations for a while before setting them

aside and meandering elsewhere mentally.

Other visitors and patients slowly started filing in one or two

at a time. There were not many people; Mie figured no more than

fifteen people must have been in the room, including the guards

watching them. The last pair of visitors to enter was Mie’s parents.

She nearly exclaimed “Mommy! Daddy!” When they entered, but

instead opted for a much more casual “Yo, peeps.” She giggled,

and the absurdity of her greeting won a chuckle from them, too.

“Hey, sweetie!” Her father responded, being the first one to

wrap her up in a big hug. He looked both exhausted and relieved.

It was very obvious to Mie that he was nervous, stressed, being

here, and seemed that he must have been crying not too long ago,

even if the tears were long since dry. Defying the female stereotype

as she generally did, her mom looked much more relaxed and

chipper, as if it was no big deal to see her daughter in a psychiatric

hospital.

“I missed you guys,” murmured Mie softly, as she broke

from her father’s hug and embraced her mom.

“We missed you, too” they both said, almost in unison.

“Paige wanted to come, but I know that you are only allowed two

visitors at a time. She says she can’t wait for you to come home so

she can show you a song she found online.”

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Mie laughed and commented how typical of it was for Paige

to say she wanted her sister home simply to show her something,

rather than because she missed her. “Send a hello and love to the

little annoyance will you?” Mie asked.

“Of course.”

They spoke very little of the hospital itself at first, as if it

wasn’t there, they weren’t there, as if things were normal and fine.

Mie noticed her mother’s new ring and jokily tried to steal it saying

“Ooh, my shiny now!” Her mom promised to buy her a ring like it

when she got out, which surprised Mie. She had only been kidding

when she said she wanted it, but Mie wasn’t going to turn down

the offer of new jewellery when she hadn’t had any in years.

Mie filled them in on what the psychiatrist had told her and

of the medications she was on, as she had forgotten to last night.

“Do you agree with what he told you?” Her mom queried,

knowing Mie –for her age- had a significant amount of knowledge

in mental disorders due to her personal studies in the field.

“You know, I can’t say I disagree honestly. From what I

recall reading of each of them, I can see why they diagnosed me

with them. Well… except one.” Mie still refused to believe that she

had an eating disorder. I actually eat a fairly normal amount consistently; I

don’t do any purging or restricting, and I am quite a good amount of pounds

above the average healthy weight limit for my height and age. At most I am just

conflicted from time to time. As much as she disagreed with people

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saying she was bulimic, Mie also knew that she didn’t have a good

defence against the diagnosis, either. The doctors know best¸ she

conceded and reluctantly agreed to not refute it, at least in the

presence of the doctor himself.

“Have you been happy?” Her dad asked.

“You know what? I have.” She paused. “I know it’s

strange…but I am happy. I think this is actually really good for me

to be here. I’ve made a few friends, and met this really awesome

woman –she has a boyfriend, so don’t worry about me suddenly

acquiring somebody- and while there really hasn’t been any therapy

or groups, this whole thing still seems rather helpful so far. I

feel…I feel I’m on the right track honestly.” Mie smiled. And she

truly felt that way. “Though, don’t get me wrong, I am very much

ready to get out of here! I miss the internet!”

Her mom sighed, “of course you would.”

“Hey! You are not one to talk, oh mother dearest, let’s see

you not have computer access for a few days.” Mie teased.

The banter continued in a light hearted manner. They joked,

teased, told silly stories. Mie recounted her Monopoly adventures

with Violet and Bill. “First the idiot savant, then the greedy Jew. I

swear to God, guys, between the two of them, I’ll never be able to

enjoy a game again without some sort of war flashback!”

Visiting “hour” was actually a mere thirty minutes. It was

almost uncomfortably short. When the allotted time ended, Mie

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stood up and embraced her parents one last time. During their

conversations, both had looked content and calm, but a sudden

sadness washed over their faces, changing their expressions almost

dramatically. In reality, the difference was slight, but vividly

obvious to Mie. “I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, okay?” Mie

reassured them. They nodded. Everybody was escorted back out

into the hall where Mie hugged her parents one last time before

being escorted with the other patients back to the ward.

She shuttered. I never want to have to do that again. She vowed

to try and do her best to get better. Honestly try, not just pretend

she was better, or pretend she was getting better. Seeing her

parents so distraught was a douse of cold reality to her system. It

was shockingly easy to forget the outside worlds and her problems

and why she was there. I need to get better. For me. For my family.

Resolute in her newfound decision, Mie met back up with Violet,

hugged her, and walked through the door confidently.

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95

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mie and Violet returned just as diner was about to be passed

out. Bill and James had already saved them a spot at the table and

beckoned for them to join. “I swear to God,” Mie said, pulling out

a chair and sitting down, “if I am not allowed a fucking fork

again…” She didn’t finish the statement. I don’t think saying ‘I’d stab

a bitch’ would benefit me in this case. “… I will complain loudly to

somebody until I do get one. Or –as my friend would say- channel

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my inner Brit and write a ‘strongly worded letter’ to many, many

people until they pay attention to me.”

Nobody was at all astounded when Mie’s dinner was, once

more, brought to her in a white foam box. “Can I have some

silverware?” She asked upon finding none came with her meal.

“Nope,” the man responded as he poured her water.

“Fucking fabulous this is.” She closed the box and rested her

forehead on the table in exasperation. “I’m up to fucking here,”

she ranted, holding her hand far above her head, “with this

bullshit.” While this time the meal was pizza which could be eaten

without the help of a fork and knife, it was the principle of the

matter that she was done with. As with lunch, Mie protested by

throwing away her meal, untouched caring not if she was acting

like a belligerent child. If they are going to treat me child, then I’m going to

damn well play the fucking part they gave me.

This time Mie stewed in silence. Her anger bubbled, but she

did not rant as she had during lunch. All her points were still the

same and there would be nothing to add but further complaining

to her new friends. She simply set her head on the table and closed

her eyes, headache threatening to break.

When she looked up again, she saw the man in plaid walking

through the dining area. Mie vaulted towards him instantly.

“Richard? Sir, may I have a moment with you? I know you’re

busy…but…”

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Her social worker glanced at his wristwatch. “Sure, I have a

moment. What’s wrong, Mie?” His tone sounded genuine, which

comforted Mie a little.

“It’s just that…” she sighed, “that I’m really frustrated.

Today during lunch, and again right now, I’ve been given my food

in a little disposable foam takeout box and not allowed any

silverware.” Mie cut him off with a wave of her hand as he tried to

respond. “Now, I understand the reasoning, I really do; I’m a self-

harmer admitted for a failed suicide attempt, and anybody in their

right minds would probably think it’s a good idea to keep even a

plastic butter knife away from me. I agree with that. But, the point

is, it wasn’t until this afternoon after I spoke to you guys that I

started being treated this way. I’ve gone to every single group

including the religious ones. I’ve been socialising. I haven’t been

sleeping all day, even though that is all I want to do right now. I’ve

been taking my medication. I’ve been earnestly talking to the

doctor. I’ve been kind to patients and staff alike. I’ve been open

and honest about my self-harm. And, I have never once

complained about or refused to those ridiculous, embarrassing,

abso-fucking-lutely degrading daily body checks. Having to strip

for a nurse and have her inspect ever God damned inch of skin is

horrible and frustrating, yet I do it. Not yet has she found anything

because I haven’t done anything she’d find; no scratches, cuts,

bruises, burns, or any unexplainable blemishes. I haven’t even

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been trying to pick at my stitches. Not only that, I’ve explained to

you and the psychiatrist about the ritualistic ways I self-harm, ways

that insure that I can’t bring myself to cut in here even if I really

wanted to.” She didn’t want mention that she would simply stop

eating until they allowed her to be served like everybody else. But,

if he refused to rectify to situation, she would have no qualms

about playing that particular card.

Richard scratched his scruffy chin. “Fair enough, Mie. I am

going to trust that you will not take advantage of this, alright? I’ll

talk to somebody and fix it, but you have to promise me you will

not attempt to hurt yourself in any manner.”

“Of course!” She said quickly. “Thank you, sir,” she added.

Richard nodded and continued walking out of the dining

area. Mie let out a sigh of relief as she took her seat once more.

“Thank fucking God,” she breathed.

“I’ve had Richard as a social worker before,” Violet

commented. “He’ll make sure and speak on your behalf to the

hospital director, I can assure you. He is a good man and good at

his job. I’m glad you got this settled, though.”

“You’re telling me.” Mie groaned. “It was really unfair to

start this treatment today, especially when I’ve been getting those

infernally degrading body checks every day.”

“Wait…body checks?” Violet asked.

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“Yeah, everyday Luisa has me take off my shirt and trousers

and looks over my body for any cuts or unexplainable injuries

before she checks on my wounds. I mean, they seriously

underestimate me I think. Had I really wanted to continue cutting

with whatever weird object I managed to find, I’m not stupid; the

areas covered by my bra and panties would never be discovered.

Their attempts really are silly. I mean, I’m not hurting myself,

because fuck that, I’d never do such a thing without my clean tools.

Sure, I give into temptations and urges just as much as anybody,

but I don’t fancy infections.” She sighed.

Violet nodded, understanding her reasoning. “It’s been years,

but every time I am in a hospital, it’s still always fun to think of all

the ways one could hurt themselves.”

“Oh my gods, I’m not the only one!” Mie exclaimed,

laughing. “That’s the first thing I thought when I came here! Like,

hmmm, just because they try really hard to keep anything that a

patient can use to hurt themselves way from them… let’s try seeing

everything that I could use if I wanted to hurt myself. Reverse

psychology it is! Had this not been a thing, I would have given it a

single thought at all.”

Violet laughed, agreeing and passed Mie a little packet of

crackers to eat, which Mie accepted and munched on. “You

know,” she added after some time “no matter what the situation I

was sectioned under was –voluntary or not- they have never done

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body checks on me. I’ve come in with fresh self-harm scars, even

some with stitches, and yeah…never done what they are doing to

you. And I’ve certainly never have not been allowed something as

ridiculous as a simple fork. So, I guess you are just unlucky.”

“Figures,” Mie sighed. “Though, now that I think about it, I

am really uncomfortable with the fact that they took pictures of all

my scars. Had I put some thought into and hadn’t been so

preoccupied and foggy, I would have said no.”

“Really…? They actually took pictures?” Violet was shocked.

“They have never done that for me…and as I’ve said before, I’ve

been in and out a few times with or without fresh cuts.”

“Yeah really, it’s fucking bullshit.”

“Very much so…”

The evening passed almost ritualistically; they played more

Uno, Kendra visited and annoyed them with God, Violet and Mie

chatted with the boys, Violet called her boyfriend again, snacks

were consumed, cartoons watched. Violet looked a little perturbed

for a short while after talking to Phineas, but was otherwise

content and eager to chat and interact.

“Hello?”

Mie turned and looked toward the questioning voice she

heard off to her side. Sitting next to her was a heavily tattooed man

in a wheel chair, Emilio. She remembered him from group. “Oh,

hey,” Mie said.

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“Can you tell me how to commit suicide?”

Mie was completely dumbfounded. “Wha…?” She rubbed

her temples. “Why would I know?”

“Isn’t that what all those scars are from?”

“No.” She snapped. “The stitched ones under the bandages,

sure. The rest, no. One can’t exactly off themselves by scratching

their arms or legs, or I’d been dead a long time ago.” Emilio looked

surprised. Mie sighed. “Yes, I guess technically I could tell you how

to kill yourself. But…I’m not going to. Why do you wish to die,

anyways?”

Emilio quickly began his tale. He was an Army veteran, did a

tour in Iraq and actually only got back a few years ago. He was also

married to his wife of six years, and they had a baby girl together

and smiled at the mentioning of his daughter. “My wife wants to

leave me and take her away, too.” He admitted. “I don’t want to

lose them, but I don’t blame her either… I just want to fix things!”

“Why does she want to leave you?” Mie queried.

“Well, the reason I am in here is because I was drinking…

we then got into an argument and I hit her. She then said she was

going to leave for the night to get away from me until I was sober

so I grabbed a filet knife and cut the top of my forearm.” He

pointed to the plasters. “She then tried to convince me to get

stitches, but I didn’t want to and started running down the street.

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An ambulance took me to the doctors after the police had gotten a

hold of me. My wife had called them after I started running.’

‘And it’s not the first time I’ve struck her, either. She doesn’t

trust me anymore, she says. I don’t know what to do; I can’t lose

the both of them. I love them dearly…I really do.” He paused to

wipe a tear from his cheek. Mie prompted him with questions

trying to coax more information out of him so she could more

accurately assess the situation.

“Well, it seems one of the main issues that has to be dealt

with is the alcohol. It’s blatantly obvious there is a problem when

you drink. If you have violent tendencies whilst drunk, then you

should not be consuming any sort of even vaguely alcoholic

beverage, especially to excessive amounts. A beer every few weeks

or months is fine, but getting drunk should never be done in your

case.”

“But I enjoy drinking!” Emilio protested.

“That matters not. From now on, you cannot do that. Not if

you want to keep your wife and daughter in your life. And to

continue in such a manner is both dangerous for all parties

involved, and selfish,” she countered.

He didn’t argue her point. “Yeah…”

“Exactly.” Mie’s expression softened. “But you can do it. If

it’s an addiction problem, there are copious amounts of resources

available. Alcoholism is one of the most prevalent addictions in the

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country, and as such, there are numerous programmes and much

funding put towards it both research and recovery wise. As a

veteran, I am almost completely positive there are some local VA

specific programmes. Many psychologists and psychiatrists also

deal with drinking, for some it’s their speciality. The internet also

has lots of literature on the matter, including books and self-help

guides. And of course, there is always AA, if nothing else.” Emilio

seemed to consider her words. “Just think about it, okay? You

don’t have to decide anything right here and now, but just put

some thought into it and what you want to do. Meditative

reflections can give you some ideas to start with, and consulting

with doctors or people that also suffer from the same thing can

provide encouragement and inspiration.”

He was quiet for a moment; pondering. “Okay, thank you.”

Emilio wheeled away and went to his room.

Mie sighed. Heh, I come to the hospital to get help, and I end up

doing the helping. I’ll never get away from playing therapist for other people will

I? In the past year, Mie accidentally turned into her friends’

personal therapist for their troubles. She’d spend hours and hours

at a time talking with them and helping them through their issues.

The topics ranged for depression and suicidal ideation, to boy

troubles. While it was intended to be a joke when she first said it to

the person doing her intake days ago, it was accurate when she said

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“it’s about time everybody’s pretend therapist gets to see a real

one.”

I’d kill for a cup of caffeinated coffee about now, Mie thought.

Already tired from the events and drama earlier that day, dealing

with Emilio did not help any. Even though the nurses were not

going to force them to bed for another hour or so, Mie wished her

friends a good night and “sweet dreams” then dragged herself off

to bed to get some much needed rest.

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106

CHAPTER NINE

The day was a sleepy blur for Mie. Breakfast was almost over

when she finally woke. When she realised how late it was, Mie

scrambled down the hall and made it just as they were about to

leave with the food. It was times like these that Mie desperately

wished for some caffeinated coffee and cursed the scarcity of

stimulants such as sugar and caffeine. The abysmal dearth of

activity was also not exactly helpful in keeping her awake either.

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Not being able to keep her eyes open, even if she wanted to,

Mie left for bed immediately after finishing her breakfast.

Whenever the nurses found Mie sleeping in her room, they’d wake

her and try to get her to go back out. Mie would simply roll over in

protest and go back to bed. There were no groups and apparently

the psychiatrists took Saturday off, so there was nothing to do at

any rate. Had there been activities –and TV did not count in this

respect- she probably would have forced herself to stay awake

instead of going back to bed and catching up on more rest.

She asked Belinda, the head nurse, if this amount of

exhaustion was normal for what she was taking. “You’ve only been

on medications a few days. Fatigue is a very common side effect

when your body is adjusting, especially when they are

antidepressants and put on full dosages immediately. There is

nothing to worry about, but if you notice anything else, please do

not hesitate to inform any of the nurses or your doctor. We don’t

want there to be a negative effect and you to be released while still

on something you don’t react well to.”

As a rule, the hospital generally didn’t serve any food except

at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and evening snacks, but between lunch

and dinner today they did. Mie assumed it was a special weekend

deal. People stood quietly inline waiting patiently. Ahead of Mie

was Kendra and a mentally challenged girl named Olivia Mie hardly

recognised. Kendra was wrapped up in a conversation with the girl.

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God, naturally, was the subject of her conversation. Quietly Mie

and Violet joked and slightly mocked the old woman. Both of them

were very sick of Kendra’s constantly rambling about Jesus.

“Pleading the Blood” quickly became a joke between them as

Violet found it as unusual a phrase as Mie did.

“WHAT THE FUCK, GIRL!”

Everybody jumped at the sudden shouting. In the hall next

to the dining area, Emilio wheeled out from the phone room and

started yelling at a young woman. Mie recalled her from group and

vaguely recalled Robert telling Mie to avoid her as the woman had

a bad and easily inflamed temper.

“It was just a fucking joke!” the girl yelled back as she walked

into the dining area.

Mie raised her eyebrows, intrigued at the erupting fight. If

her memory was correct, Mie recalled that she was only 23 and had

a five year old daughter. The father had long since left her. From

the little she had seen of her, Mie couldn’t help but sympathise:

there was no way that could be easy to deal with especially on top

of having a mental disorder. The woman was certainly not the

brightest creature Mie had ever met, and living up to Robert’s

warning, did seem to have quite the temper and attitude on her.

Several staff members quickly surrounded the quarrelling

pair. They tried convincing them to let whatever was bothering

them go, and perhaps to go to their rooms and try and calm down

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before they did something rash or hurt themselves or each other.

Their words fell on deafened ears. Emilio and the girl only got

louder, and all this simply because the girl and flipped the light of

the phone room on and off just to mess with him.

“You know what? My life is bad, too! My daughter was also

taken away from me!” The fight quickly turned into a contest of

“Who is the most worst off”. While Mie sided more with Emilio,

and felt that the woman should apologise for being so immature

and starting the fight, Emilio was the one that finally ended it and

said he was sorry for yelling. The girl, on the other hand, did not

return the gesture in kind. She seemed to take it as a win and

practically skipped off with an absolutely gleeful smile. Emilio

looked absolutely defeated and exhausted.

Mie turned around to see Kendra clutching to the little girl,

and the girl clutching Kendra back. “I was so scared, Mie!” She

said. “But I pleaded the blood to protect me, we both did, and we

are safe, thank Jesus. Did you plead the blood because you were

scared?”

“Um, no…” Mie responded, almost offended at the thought

that she might have been frightened. Even if she had been, her first

instinct would have been to try and resolve the issue, not pray to

some religious figure and ask to be covered in his blood. It

sounded gross, which only added to her distaste of the peculiar

phrase. She turned away hoping to avoid any questions that she

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might have incurred from Kendra because of it. “Fucking crazy

woman,” Mie mouthed towards Violet, who simply nodded with an

expression of vague astonishment.

After that, the day quickly grew boring again, fuelling Mie’s

unshakable exhaustion. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stay

focused or awake enough to concentrate on any games or

conversations no matter how interesting they were. She excused

herself, and left to take a nap and ended up sleeping the rest of the

day.

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112

CHAPTER TEN

Mie work before the sun began to even lighten the sky.

Yesterday she could hardly wake up, but today was different; Mie

practically sprung out of bed, full of vigour. Amazing what one good

night can do. She mused, stretching before she got dressed. Mie

sauntered down the hall to the dining area, smiling. All the tables

were empty when she arrived. Oh, wow, I’m the first one up! Never was

Mie the first at the dining area for breakfast. While she was often

one of the earliest, she had not yet woken up early enough to be

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the earliest. Because the food was served alphabetically, there was

no benefit to arriving before anybody else.

Having ample time to herself, Mie decided to catch up on

her journal and write down the events of the past few days. She

had been neglecting her writing in favour of games and

conversation. The social atmosphere was too nice to ignore in

order to journal. Besides, she reasoned, if I spent my whole time writing

about what I was doing… I’d have no time to do those things! But she was

a fast writer and it took almost no time at all to get her journal up

to date.

People were starting to arrive, but none of her friends had

yet, so she took to sketching; another thing she had been

abandoning in lieu of conversation. Once more the thought

crossed her that she should sketch out most of the people she saw

and turn her adventures into some sort of short comic series. Mie

figured she’d have enough material for at least a small run of

comics.

“Good Morning, Violet!” Mie called, and pulled a seat out

for her friend.

“Hey Mie, you seem chipper today.”

“Yes, I am actually. Much better than yesterday: I finally have

some goddamned energy!”

Violet chuckled and looked over at Mie’s doodles. The page

was mostly comprised of gryphons in various poses and a few

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attempts at drawing human faces. The boys joined them soon

before breakfast was served. “Oh my fucking God, it’s a miracle!”

Mie exclaimed as she received her tray. “Lookie, here, I even have a

plastic butter knife!”

“Did you ‘plead the blood of Jesus’ to fix the tray issue?” Bill

joked.

“Fuck. That.” Mie simply retorted.

The moment the words left Mie’s lips, a yelling broke out in

the dining a few tables down. Everybody at the table whipped

around and located the source of the noise.

“Lionel, please relax,” a nurse soothed.

The same schizophrenic man that Mie saw her first few

seconds in the ward and that had fought with the tall schizophrenic

guy only a few days ago was now the center of drama once more.

He was yelling incoherently at the two nurses, making broad hand

gestures that only further added to the chaos. A team of nurses and

guards talked calmly to Lionel in attempt to calm the frenzying

man. He paced back and forth in a small circle until the psychiatrist

came out to talk to him. After talking to the doctor for a few

moments, Lionel finally agreed to walk back to his room. The two

talked while walking down the hall and the group of nurses and

guards dissipated.

“I wonder what that was about,” commented Mie.

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Everybody shrugged. “Who knows?” Mie sighed. There was

precious little entertainment in the hospital and the little that

happened never lasted.

It was Sunday. Sunday meant that morning group was

actually a non-denominal service. Well, so theory said, but Mie

knew better than that. While the boys generally opted to skip the

majority groups no matter the topic they were on, this was the first

time Mie and Violet purposely skipped out on one. Generally, the

staff was supposed to remind people that it was “highly

encouraged” to go, but didn’t this time.

“You know,” James started, “the last time I was here, we

actually got to go outside and there were activities such as arts and

crafts.” Mie resisted the urge to giggle at hearing the buff, tattooed

ex-gang member mention “arts and crafts” in a tone that implied

he missed and enjoyed them.

Violet nodded. “Same for me, but the company that owns

this place is going bankrupt, so… funding pretty much is zero.”

“It’s just my luck that the first time I get locked in the crazy

farm and I happened to find myself committed in the most boring

one,” Mie added.

“Very much it is!” Violet agreed. “The one on the other side

of town is much better, cleaner, and adequately staffed. Heh, it’s

getting hard to get a bed there because it’s everybody’s first

choice.”

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“After the crazies are done getting their dosages of Jesus, I’m

going to ask somebody if we can get a little fresh air,“ James

announced.

“Heh, while I don’t get out much, not being outside for over

a week is really starting to get to me,” Mie said.

They laughed and agreed that somebody needed to ask and

permission to be gleaned. The request seemed to be more

complicated than Mie expected. The four of them managed to

track somebody down and formally request some outside time in

the yard. The man seemed to have no idea how to process their

proposition.

“Go ask the head nurse,” Violet prompted. Having their

request known and making its way up through command, James

sauntered off to get more sleep and Bill meandered over to see

what was on TV.

Mie took the opportunity to finally inquire as to the tattoos

on Violets wrists; the little ankh and feather. “I used to study

ancient Egyptian history and religion, especially when I was a

young adult. For the longest time I was actually a practitioner, my

patron was Horus.” She swept back her wave red hair to reveal a

beautiful tattoo of the Wadjet on the base of her neck. “But the

tattoos on my wrist were also there to supposed to help me stop

cutting on myself, but... Well, either way, that is pretty much why

they are there.

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“Horus was always my favourite god in that whole pantheon.

I don’t know why, but he always was. On several occasions, I’ve

tried drawing him, but I never could finish them because they

never seemed to be good enough for him in a way. And, as for the

ankh…it’s so weird that you have one. My mom has one tattooed

on her ankle and I’ve wanted to get one either on my chest or on

my wrist. I was actually going to have my brother do it, but he ran

out of needles giving my mom a new one a few weeks ago.”

“Are you still interested in learning about the religion and

history?” She asked after Mie admitted she didn’t know much

about their history or practices.

“Of course! I’ve just been terribly lazy and haven’t gone

looking for any books.”

“Hmm,” Violet pondered. “You can have mine. I think there

are about twenty that I have and wouldn’t mind parting with to

somebody who earnestly wants and would read them. Once we get

out, I can try sending them to you or we can meet up

somewhere…”

“Are you kidding me?” Mie gapped, almost too stunned to

speak.

“Yup, they are all yours.” She beamed. “If you want them of

course!”

“Oh I very much do!” she gasped without hesitation.

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“Well, that settles it,” Violet stated. “You have can have

them!”

Mie practically bounced in her seat and proceeded to thank

Violet over and over until the guy that they had sent to get

permission for some outside time came back and told them that he

talked to Belinda and that after group they would be allowed out.

“Yay!” Mie said excitedly.

“We just have to wait until we can get somebody to escort

you guys to the yard. It shouldn’t take too long. They’ll announce it

when it’s time,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Mie said as the man left to continue on his

way, doing his job. True to his word, less than ten minutes later the

people that had permission and that wanted to go out to the yard

was lined up and ready to go. The guards did a head count, made

everybody stand in a single file line, and finally wrote the names of

everybody down. “I feel like a child again!” commented Mie to

Violet as they stood in the little queue.

While there were only ten patients in line to go outside, they

were accompanied by three security guards, one male and one

female nurse, and Belinda. Belinda headed the line out the main

doors of the ward and down a series of halls.

“This wasn’t always a mental hospital,” Violet said to Mie,

explaining why all the halls they passed through were dark and

eerily empty. “This used to be a woman’s health hospital and I

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think this used to be the original lobby before they converted it, if I

recall correctly. I mean, the part we are kept in isn’t new, but I

think the current lobby area is.”

Mie nodded. It made sense. The lobby Mie saw when she

first arrived through didn’t match the patterns and colours of the

ward they were in or this section they were walking through when

she forced herself to recall it. While the memory was fuzzy, it was

clear enough to remember the basics. Remembering being led

through the doors by a police officer was not one of the highlights

of her short life. Mie shivered and tried to push the thought out of

her head.

Sometimes it was possible to forget Mie was actually

involuntarily committed at a mental hospital. The budding

friendships between her and Violet, and the comradery Mie felt

with some of the other patients often made Mie actually feel as if

she was on come strange sort of vacation, a camp of sorts that had

a lot of focus on mental health. Either way, she only sparingly felt

the seriousness of the situation. So odd, Mie thought. A wave of

guilt built up, she didn’t fight against it.

I’ve put so much undue stress on my family and friends, she internally

wailed. Like the first night, Mie felt the tears well up in her eyes,

wiping them away before anybody would notice. The fact that she

hadn’t called her parent’s since they visited didn’t help her guilt

either and only furthered it.

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Intense sunlight filtered into the darkened, abandoned, old

lobby from large dusty bay windows. Mie was legitimately

surprised that the yard wasn’t just a fenced in patch of dirt. A

smooth winding length of pavement encircled the perimeter of the

fenced in area, small gathering of trees with stone benches

provided shade. Lush green grass filled in the whole of the area.

There was even a small square of cement and a basketball net.

Belinda opened the doors to the outside and the patients

ambled out. One of the older men immediately took to sprawling

in the grass. He plucked small flowers, twisted them in his hair, and

rolled around for a while before settling down to lay on his back,

eyes closed and simply basking in the sun. At first Mie wanted to

laugh at him, but then smiled for him. The simplest pleasures truly are

the best. Everybody else took to strolling around the path and

enjoying the delightfully warm air.

Mie and Violet were joined by Kendra and Olivia as they

walked. Bill and James were off pestering the guards and Belinda

for some basketballs and soccer balls which they knew the hospital

owned.

“Hah!” came the joyful shout of James, basketball raised

over his head. A couple of people joined him and Bill in the

makeshift court area, including the girls. Somebody suggested a

simple game of H-O-R-S-E. The rules were simple: player one

starts by taking a shot anyway they want. If they score, then the

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next person has to do the exact same thing. Then player three does

the same thing until they get back to player one. If somebody

misses a throw, they add a letter until they spell out “HORSE”.

The last man standing wins.

“I haven’t played this since I was really small!” commented

Mie. She remembered it being fun and was excited to join in. James

and Bill were first and second, then Mie, Violet, and a few other

patients including Kendra.

James started simply; ten feet away from the basket and

threw and scored. Bill repeated him, including the goal. Mie was

gently passed the ball. Lining up with the basket, she got ready,

crouched, jumped and… PAIN.

“AAHHHH!” she screamed. The ball flew up into the air

vaguely in the direction of the hoop. Mie fell; the sudden,

unbearable pain caused her knees to buckle and lose her balance.

Mie was accustomed to various degrees of constant pain, and she

was given small dosages of medicine to keep it at bay, so she had

nearly forgotten about her bandaged arms. Less than two weeks

old, her injuries were still not even close to fully healing. Generally

she didn’t notice the aching wounds unless she moved her arms

around too quickly, bumped them, or stretched and pulled the

stitches so she had forgotten all about them in her excitement.

“Mie! Are you okay?” Violet shrieked and kneeled down next

to her.

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Belinda came vaulting across the yard to the fallen girl. “Ms.

Faulkner ? Are you alright? What happened?”

“I…” Mie started to stand up “It’s nothing. I just hurt myself

throwing a fucking basketball.” Though, Mie had to admit to

herself that it was hilarious in a way. Belinda wanted to escort Mie

back to the ward and check her over. “No, I’m sure I didn’t rip a

stitch. Trust me, it’s alright.” After enough protesting, Mie finally

got Belinda to leave her alone and walked over to a bench to relax.

Violet joined her at the bench under a stand of trees and

watched people play while chatting about various subjects.

Eventually their break was over and everybody was called back to

form a line and head to the ward once more. Mie smiled. The man

that was laying on the ground was covered with grass and was

holding a handful of flowers, the same kind that he still had twisted

into his hair. He was the happiest, most content person Mie had

ever seen. Simple pleasures. It really is all about the simple pleasures.

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124

CHAPTER ELLEVEN

Mie guiltlessly dug into a large salad with gusto. Her arm was

still throbbing from her accident in the yard, but otherwise she was

doing fine.

“Mie? The doctor will see you as soon as you are done,”

Luisa said, coming up to the table just as lunch started.

“Yes, ma’am!” Mie replied, and quickly finished the rest of

her salad. While she knew the doctor didn’t expect her right that

moment, she was excited to see him and hear what he had to say.

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Her original psychiatrist was at the conference in California and

apparently they didn’t work on Sunday, so Mie was looking

forward to finally seeing this new doctor. Hopefully I can convince him

I am ready to go soon, she thought. While Mie was willing to stay as

long as needed, as she earnestly wanted to get better, she had to

admit it was very dull doing almost nothing all day. Had there been

more groups, activities, and actually having therapy to keep her

busy, Mie would have not complained at all. That and I would like to

have my privacy once more. Well, assuming my parents will allow me that when

I get home.

Mie waltzed to the psychiatrist’s office and knocked on the

door. A portly man opened and ushered Mie in. “Hello, Ms.

Faulkner, I’m Dr. Silva. Would you please take a seat and we can

get started for today?” She sat in the chair across for him and

waited while he wrote something in his notebook. He cleared his

throat. “So, Mie, how have you been feeling?” he questioned.

“Not too bad, honestly. I mean, I really miss my parents and

friends, but otherwise I’ve been doing pretty well and I think these

medications I’m on are actually helping.”

“That’s really good to hear, Mie,” he scribbled a note down

and flipped through a binder. “I’m going to take you off the

Pamelor that Dr. Singh prescribed you, though. It’s been affecting

your blood pressure more than I’d like. Otherwise, there will be no

changes to that.”

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Mie nodded. “Oh, I asked the nurse about always being

sleepy… but I wanted to ask if you if the drowsiness was a side

effect and if it would ever subside.”

“Yes, it is, and once your body has time to adjust and you

heal up more, it shouldn’t remain an issue for much longer.” She

nodded again. The constant exhaustion was annoying her, but it

was not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. “So, what are

you goals?”

“My…my goals?” she stammered.

“Yes, what do you wish to do once you are released? What

are your goals?” He asked again.

“Oh, I guess… well ideally I just want to finally be able to

finish my application and get into university. I want to finally be

able to do something as simple as an application without having a

panic attack. I want to be able to try and earnestly plan my future

without the pervasive thought of ‘what’s the point, I’m just going

to kill myself and will be dead in a few months anyway.’ That’s my

goal for now. The ultimate long goal plan I think is just simply

becoming…” She paused. Mie wanted to go into psychiatry but

was always too ashamed to admit to that, especially being in a

mental hospital. “… a nuclear engineer.” When she was a child, she

did plan to go into nuclear engineering, but had changed her mind

after graduating high school and got drawn into psychiatry instead.

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“Good, that is actually a very good goal. Now, make a list of

things you need to accomplish and go about getting that goal at our

meeting tomorrow.” And with that, Dr. Silva released Mie so he

could get ready for the next patient.

“Mie!” Violet explained as she walked back out into the

dining area.

“Um, hello, yes, hi…? That is indeed my name, and thank

you for noticing that fact,” she responded in mild shock. “I was

gone for like two seconds…”

“Yes, but I was terribly bored!”

“…fair enough…”

“Oh! Also, they are going to open the art room soon!”

“It’s about time!”

“I know!”

They waited excitedly at the table for a while until a nurse

came up to Violet and told her they were opening up the room for

“Art Therapy”. Mie and Violet jumped up and ran to art room

giggling. When she entered the room, Mie frowned. It was a sad,

chaotic mess of glitter and broken crayons. Uncapped markers

were sprawled everywhere; crumpled, half-finished drawings

littered the tables and floor, there were hardly any art supplies or

craft materials to be seen that were not almost unusable. “This…

is slightly disappointing and actually kind of depressing.”

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Violet nodded. “Yeah. They had much more things to do the

last time I was here.”

Mie rifled through the drawers that theoretically contained

art supplies. She grinned, turned to Violet and said, “we are crazy,

yes?”

She chuckled and stretched her arms out wide, “obviously.”

“So… why don’t we act like it?” Mie said, holding up a

packet of sticky googly eyes.

Violet laughed. “And, what are we supposed to do with

these?”

“Anything we want. We are insane after all. I’m sure we can

do something with these!”

“Hmm… what else can we use while we’re at it?”

Mie twirled around the room and picked up a bottle of

glitter. “Bombs! Glitter bombs! Nothing on earth is more annoying

and pervasive as glitter. Everywhere.”

“Ooh, excellent.”

Mie found small paper cups the size of a thimble and filled it

with silver glitter. “Here, fill one of these, and then fit another on

top to close it. Now we have tiny containers that we can throw that

will explode, or we can open them and sprinkle the contents where

ever we please.”

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“Fabulous! Hah, this is a brilliant plan already,” said Violet.

“By chance have you ever seen a film or read a book called ‘Fight

Club’?”

“Yes! Of course I have! It has to be one of my favourite

movies of all time. That end plot twist was amazing!”

“Well… do you remember what they were called? The little

gang of boys in the fight club I mean?”

“Men of Mayhem?”

“We could be the Women of…”

“Of Mayhem?!” Mie interrupted excitedly. “Oh my goodness

that is brilliant Violet!”

“So…” she said deviously, “Let’s cause some mayhem?”

…

By dinner Mie and Violet had stuck googly eyes all over the

walls in various places. Every light switch had a pair of eyes on

them; most of the picture frames had them, as well. Mie even

managed to stick a pair of eyes on the edge of the nurses’ station

desk when she had to get her medications for the day.

The glitter was sprinkled on almost every chair except at the

table Mie, Violet, Bill, and James always sat at. They also managed

to get some in the TV room chairs, a small coat on table of the

nurses’ station, small piles were poured at the entrances of some of

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the rooms, and Mie was proud that she was able to get a coat of

silver glitter on the door handle of many of the rooms including

the psychiatrist’s office.

“What else can we do?” Violet asked Mie at dinner.

“I have no idea… I mean, with only glitter and googly eyes,

there isn’t much we can do, really,” she admitted.

“How about creepy drawings?”

“Hmm… there is this famous… viral thing… on the internet

known as ‘Slenderman’ and in the videos and game, there are these

creepy little drawings. I could try and recreate some of them from

memory. I don’t know how many people would get the references,

however.”

“I don’t get the reference, but somebody is bound to. Let’s

try it!”

As dinner was cleared away, Mie got out her pencil

contraband and started sketching. Kendra, a large bald man with

tattoos, and Emilio joined Mie and Violet at the table shortly after.

At first Mie and Violet ignored them for the most part;

conversations were idle and unsurprisingly, revolved around God

at Kendra’s prodding. It only piqued Mie’s interest when Emilio

started talking. She remembered him from a few days ago when he

asked her how to commit suicide. This time, Emilio was asking

Kendra and the bald man on advice with his wife.

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“You just need to pray; pray to Jesus for help and he’ll

provide,” said the bald man.

Mie sighed.

“Is your wife a Christian?” Kendra asked.

“She goes to church a few times a year,” Emilio responded.

“Then, you should take your wife and baby and start going

to church every Sunday.”

Kendra and the bald man kept repeating the same advice

over and over “pray and go to church. All your problems will be

solved by giving them up to Jesus.”

“Look, Emilio,” Mie said, interrupting everybody. She was

getting tired of their worn out responses. “Religion, spirituality, and

what be it can only get you so far. And by far, I mean very little

more than some encouragement and possibly a dash of hope. You

need to take responsibility for your actions. Prayer is all well good,

but unless you actively make your life better, unless you fix your

mistakes, then nothing will change; no matter how much and

earnestly you may pray to whatever being you wish to. Use prayer

to ground yourself or to meditate so you can think and be ready to

do what you need to.’

‘You said to me earlier that you stuck your wife because you

were intoxicated and have done so many times in the past. Had I

been her? I would have been very scared of you the second I saw a

beer in your hand and would have feared of what you were going

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to do to me and our child. And, for this, you have nothing to

blame but you and your actions. None of this is some gods’

punishment that can be prayed away; it’s your actions. The first

thing you need to realise is that it is indeed you fault and that it’s

your responsibility to fix it. But, it’s also within your power to fix

it.”

“But…” Emilio stammered, “I don’t even know how to

begin…”

The bald man was about to butt in, Mie waved him off and

said, “I’ve already told you. First you need to own up to your

problems and realise it’s under your control and only yours to fix it.

Once you accomplish this, you can then go about systematically

dealing with them one by one. If you don’t have an addiction then

this is as simple as to stop drinking. Period. End of story. Never

again. Never get anywhere near drunk again because it’s obviously

too dangerous for you and the people around you.’

‘If you do have an addiction to alcohol, then it will be hard,

but still not impossible. As I’ve said before, there are a lot of

addiction centres and clinics in this area. There are also many

doctors and therapists that specialise in all manner of addictions.

Tomorrow, if you haven’t spoken to him about it already, talk to

the psychiatrist about your trouble with drinking. On top of all this,

being a veteran opens up a lot of resources, as well as money and

funding to pay for the expenses of any treatments.”

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“Why? There isn’t even a point… my wife said she wanted a

divorce when I get out. There is no point to any of this if I won’t

even have my daughter anymore…”

“Look at me, Emilio. Pick your head up and look at me

directly face to face.” She waited until he finally looked up at her.

“Now, look me square in the eyes and I dare you to tell me that she

is over reacting or that she shouldn’t leave and has no right or

reason to.”

“But that kid is also mine…”

“That may be true, but so far, it seems you haven’t been

proving yourself a good father and been an abusive husband. Can

you honestly expect somebody to stay where she knows there is a

high likelihood of being beaten? Especially when it’s over

something that didn’t need to happen, such as your drinking?”

“But… I like drinking…”

“Ah, no. A good excuse that does not make. We’ve talked

about this before. You need to stop drinking. I’m sorry, but it’s

obvious that you have no sense of moderation when you start and

no sense of control of yourself when you do. Some people can

learn to handle it, and even if you are one of those people, for now,

you just need to straight up stop. That baby needs both of her

parents in her life, and if one of them is in jail because he went a

little too far one day, that’s not going to help anybody.”

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“But make sure you and your wife pray together to keep your

marriage intact,” Kendra interrupted.

“No, make sure you work together and have open

communication if you want to keep your marriage intact. Sorry,

Kendra, but prayer is not going to solve this.” Mie turned back to

Emilio. “Give her space. When you get out, promise her you are

going to change, give her space, and back up those promises.

‘Actions speak louder than words.’ Have you ever heard of that

phrase?” Emilio nodded. “Good. Because it’s very true, and you

can talk until you run out of air, but if you don’t back up your

words with action, they are worse than meaningless: if you don’t

act, your words are actually more proof against you.’

‘I cannot stress enough how important it is to give her space

and prove to her with your actions that you are willing to change

for you, for her, for your child. You need to give her plenty of

room; that is so important.” Emilio nodded. Mie didn’t know if he

was going to listen to her or not. “Just… think about it. And… it’s

very important for you to remember she might still leave you, even

if you accomplish all this. It is her right to do so, and you better

not hold any ill-will for simply trying to stay safe and protect her

child.”

Kendra and the bald man started counteracting Mie’s words

almost immediately talking about how he had to just pray and

everything would be okay. It frustrated her to no end. Telling him

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that all he had to do was mutter to some god every day wasn’t

going to solve his problems. Besides, what do they know? Kendra was in

an abusive marriage for thirty years. Not exactly the expert on relationships,

that one.

“Well, I’m going to bed. Good night Violet. Night Emilio,”

and with that, Mie trotted off to her room, took a freezing cold

shower and curled up in bed hoping for sleep.

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137

CHAPTER TWELVE

“The doctor told me I am to be released today,” Bill

announced at breakfast.

“That’s fabulous!” exclaimed Mie.

“Yeah, I just have to wait until somebody can come pick me

up. Most likely my parents will come for me sometime in the late

afternoon or so.”

They spent the morning playing a few more rounds of Uno

and a game of Monopoly with Bill as it would be the last time they

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would every get to game together. Once more, Mie lost every Uno

game to James, and Monopoly was dominated by Bill who hoarded

all the money despite the fact that all the other players joined up

against him.

“I give up! There is no winning with you, Bill!” Mie said,

throwing up her arms in exasperation. Bill laughed at her and Mie

pretended to pout and complain about how he must have been

cheating somehow.

Later in the afternoon, Mie saw her psychiatrist again. The

meeting was short; just more questions about how she was

adjusting to the medications, if she had been thinking about her

goals some more, and asking her if she had questions.

“So… I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to rush things and

get out of here before I’m ready, but when do you think I’ll be

okay to leave?”

“I don’t see why you can’t go as soon as tomorrow, Mie.

You seem to be making honest progress. I’d like to meet and talk

to your parents before we release you, however. Just to discuss

things with them. I will probably call them later today and try to

schedule a meeting.”

“Oh! Okay, that sounds great! Thank you,” Mie said

excitedly.

She told Violet the news when Mie returned to the table.

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“That’s great, Mie! We’ll have to find a way to celebrate you

getting out of the crazy house! Well, as soon as Bill leaves, that is.”

Right before dinner, Bill found everybody and with his

clothes in hand, wished Mie, Violet, and James a farewell.

“I'm not quite a patient anymore, so… can I have a hug?”

Mie was the first to give him a tight hug and wished him good luck.

Violet followed suit and James simply shook his hand.

“Oh, hey, Mie?” Bill asked before he left. “Here, take these

silly shoes. I know you were disappointed they didn’t have any

more for you, so you have can have mine.” He handed her a pair of

light blue canvas hospital slip on shoes.

“Aw hell yes!” explained Mie as she immediately put them on

over her fluffy socks “Wait… are… are both of these shoes for left

feet?”

Bill laughed, “um, yeah. They only had two left feet shoes

left. For some reason, they didn’t have another right foot shoe…

left… so it was two left feet shoes or those ridiculous little foam

ones.”

“This is actually very suiting and perfect: mismatched shoes

from the crazy farm of mismatched minds. Thank you!”

Bill waved and bid them one last farewell before being

escorted out of the ward.

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“Well, I’m going to workout for a while and take a nap

before dinner. I’ll see you ladies later,” James said, excusing himself

from the table.

Alone again, Mie and Violet chatted. Because of her potential

release the next day, Violet made sure to exchange each other’s

emails, phone numbers, and Facebook information. When they had

everything written down, they then planned what they were going

to do tomorrow in celebration of Mie’s first –and hopefully last-

release from a mental hospital.

“Well, we could always decorate your shoes! Make them

look special; googly eyes, glitter, and a bit of paint to make them

just as insane as the place you got them from.”

“That is a beautiful plan,” Mie said, mockingly wiping away a

non-existent tear. Mie and Violet proceeded to launch into a

discussion about potentially hanging out when they were both out

and more about the books Violet was planning on giving Mie. She

also promised to teach her how to play DnD if Mie ever had the

chance to spend the night at her place. She mentioned that at first

her boyfriend wasn’t very keen on Violet keeping in contact with

Mie due to some mistakes Violet had made in the past, but she

reasoned with him to give her once more chance.

“Trust me, you’ll adore him. He’s exceptionally brilliant, and

you’ve mentioned you have an interest in ceremonial magick; well,

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he is very well versed in that subject. Amongst many others of

course.”

“Oh really? Well, as soon as I get home, I’ll make sure to

introduce myself to him then.”

Violet beamed, seemingly very happy about the whole

situation.

The girls only got half an hour of peace before Kendra and

the bald man joined them at the table. “Hey Kendra,” Mie greeted

as the bald man pulled out a chair for the old woman. Kendra

waved back excitedly.

The previous day Mie had been wearing a long sleeve shirt

because she was cold, but today she was back into her short

sleeves, not wanting to waste the rarity of such an odd pleasure.

Mie instantly felt comfortable the first time she came to the

hospital when it came to her exposed arms, but as the bald man

stared not at her, but her arms, Mie couldn’t help but feel self-

conscious. He seemed to have no concept or gauge in personal

space, his nose practically touched her forearm and she could feel

his breath on her skin. The small hairs fluttered as if she was

suddenly outside on a warm and windy day.

“Did you do that yourself?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Did it hurt?”

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“What do you think?” Mie tried her best not to simply tell

him to “fuck off” like she was very tempted to do. From the first

moment she saw him, Mie didn’t like him in the least and would

have rather avoided him all together. These feelings only intensified

the more he spoke.

“They look like tiger stripes. It’s cool.”

“I guess…”

“You could always tell people they are tattoos because you

wanted to look like a tiger!”

“If I wanted tiger stripes, I’d get them fucking tattooed.

These are very obviously a bunch of fucking self-harm scars and I

see no fucking reason why I should ever try and fucking lie about it

just because it makes some fucking cunt uncomfortable. Too

fucking bad for them if it does make them uncomfortable.” Mie

hoped that her small explosion would make him back off or at least

stop staring quite so intensely or closely. She was very wrong.

Even though the conversation carried onto other topics, and

somehow Violet managed to keep Kendra from going on about

Jesus, the bald man forgo talking in favour of staring at Mie’s arms

even more intensely than before.

Thankfully I am wearing this particular shirt, thought Mie. It was

the stretchy blue one she had been wearing when she saw her

parents. The elasticity of the shirt allowed her to be able and pull

the sleeves down to her hands and hold onto the edges with hands

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so they didn’t ride back up. The bald man kept staring, waiting for

her to lift them up. When he finally realised that she wasn’t going

to let that happen, he sat back up and paid some attention to the

topic. Mie caught him still glancing at her arms to see if she

uncovered them, but otherwise he took to staring awkwardly at

everybody at the table in turns.

“This guy is seriously creeping me the fuck out,” Mie

whispered to Violet, bending over so only Violet could hear.

Violet nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps we should find a way to excuse ourselves?” Mie

whispered again.

“Well,” Violet said, standing up and clearing her throat, “I

am going to leave you guys to your own devices. There should be a

game on, if I remember correctly and I would like to catch that.”

“Oh, I’ll join you!” Mie offered, conspiratorially.

They both left to the TV room together, and Violet was right

–either accidentally or by prior knowledge- and there was a

basketball game on in less than ten minutes. As luck would have it,

one of Violets favourite teams just happened to be playing which

led Mie to believe Violet did know that a game was supposed to be

on during this general time.

“Never took you for a sports fan,” Mie commented as they

sat down together.

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“I know right? I don’t seem like the type, but I am quite the

fan of basketball. Not so much for any other sport, though.

Phineas, however, is more of a boxing fan, but I don’t share that

particular interest. Watching two men beat each other up isn’t

exactly my cup of tea.”

“Yeah, my family isn’t one for that sort of thing either,

though my dad always had a soft spot for kickboxing, but I can’t

even recall the last time he watched a match of any sort. Probably

because nobody else ever want’s to watch it and we all disappear to

our rooms when he sits down for a match.”

Violet scampered off shortly after Mie finished to find

somebody that could change the channel. The patients were not

allowed to change the stations and the only controls enabled on the

TV itself was the volume. One of the nurses, Juan, was actually a

fan of the team playing so he willingly switched to the game so he

could watch as well.

Mie found herself actually enjoying the game, much to her

own mild dismay. Though, she realised it was not the fact she was

watching it, rather, it was the company she was keeping. It was fun

to watch her friend get so enthralled and invested in the game:

cheering when her team scored and ranting when the opposing

team did.

After the game was over, they allowed everybody to go

outside in the small patio area just outside the TV room. Unlike the

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yard this was a tiny square of concrete and dirt enclosed by four

building walls and didn’t have enough space for anything more

than walking around in a circle. There was a single picnic table in

the corner across form the door. Along the tiny cement path were

four stone benches. All the seats were moist from the morning dew

that had not yet evaporated away.

Mie took her journal and sat outside, seizing the opportunity

to fill in everything that had happened since the last time she

wrote. Mie was distracted by flashes of yellow and red in her

peripheral vision. She looked up and noticed two young fire

fighters entering the ward. They carried pocked sized spiral

notebooks in their hands.

Mie continued to fill in the last parts of the journal while idly

observing the two newcomers. The girl caught Mie’s eyes the most:

she was fairly short, but nicely toned with almost muscular arms,

and her honey brown hair was cropped short and styled in a

masculine manner. Mie couldn’t help but find her attractive and

was suddenly extremely self-conscious of her attire, her scars, and

the fact that she was locked up in a mental hospital.

The fire fighters randomly went from person to person

individually. Mie watched them conduct mini interviews on some

of the more coherent patients. When the girl entered the patio area,

Mie looked down and slowly kept writing, pretended to ignore the

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woman. She saw as boots passed in front of her and wrote faster to

appear busy.

“Hey,” came the woman’s soft voice. “I’m Alyssa and I’m a

trainee fire fighter. For part of my training I have to go to a mental

health facility and conduct some interviews on patients and staff.

May I interview you for my report?”

“Um…” Mie stammered, “of course. Please, sit.” She often

got anxious when talking to strangers, but particularly when they

were attractive strangers.

“Thanks!” Alyssa smiled. Oh gods, her smile is so beautiful, Mie

thought. “So, I guess we shall begin. What is your name?”

“Mie Faulkner ,” she stated, looking down at her journal

shyly.

“May I ask why you are here?”

“Um, a failed suicide attempt. They didn’t want to just

release me because they felt I would benefit from being here for a

while and to see a doctor for medications and such.”

Alyssa jotted something down then asked, “Why? I mean,

why would you want to do that to yourself, you seem so young…”

“Honestly?” Mie paused to think. She had yet to be able to

answer that question. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just so tired of not

living that death seemed to be the only option left. I was just…

tired.”

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“Oh… alright.” Alyssa looked slightly puzzled and wrote

down what Mie had told her. “So, what have you been diagnosed

with?”

“A few things. I haven’t seen anything official or anything,

but a few days ago the doctor said I have depression, agoraphobia,

am bulimic and have a mixed personality disorder of borderline

with a touch of histrionic.”

“I forgot to ask your age,” she said once Mie had finished.

“Oh, simple; I’m nineteen.”

“You are very young!” Alyssa commented. “I’m barely

twenty, myself.”

“Really? You have the presence and maturity of an older

woman, though, you certainly look as young as you say,” Mie

blushed and stared at the floor again. Her comment was

unintended but no less true.

“Are you attending school, or…?”

“No, not yet anyways. Right now I still live with my parents

and I’m still too unstable and depressed, I wouldn’t fair well with

the pressures of school at the moment if I tried.”

“What would you want to study?”

“Well, when I was a little girl, I wanted to join the Navy and

go into nuclear engineering. I scored really high on the entrance

exam and was probably going to be accepted into the nuclear

programme with very little hassle, but then I learned that self-harm

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scars were an instant and permanent disqualifier and that when the

Navy discovered them, I wouldn’t be able to get in. So… I think

that I am going to go into psychiatry. It’s something I know well

and have an interest in,” she paused, “though, if anybody here asks,

I’m not sure what I want to do. It’s kind of embarrassing to say I

want to study psychiatry when here I am: unable to even keep

myself from falling apart.”

“I understand that reasoning, but I don’t think it’s anything

to be worried about. Actually, I think that situations such as this

are what really inspire people to study what they want. When you

are affected by something so personally, the subject becomes

something you want to know more about. I’m sure had you gotten,

let’s say… cancer at a young age, you might have wanted to

become an oncologist instead of a psychiatrist. “

“That’s very true,” Mie finally said after a moment of

thought.

Mie and Alyssa kept talking, each sharing stories about each

other. Mie learned that Alyssa’s older sister was schizophrenic and

would wander around at night with –at most- a blanket wrapped

around her when she was having an episode. “We always had to

make sure she took or was given her medication or she would have

really bad episodes that we could never shake her out of and would

last for days.”

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“Oh wow. I’m so sorry to hear about that. Does your sister

still have episodes that bad or have they gotten better?”

“She has gotten better. Though, I am not sure if it’s because

we are more careful with her medications or she has a really good

doctor she sees pretty often.”

“Either way, that is good. I hope your sister keeps getting

better.”

“Thank you.”

Before much longer Alyssa excused herself. “I’m sorry, but I

have to go. We only had a few hours and our time is pretty much

up now.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But it was very nice meeting you, Ms. Faulkner” Alyssa said

sincerely.

“It was a pleasure,” Mie added.

“And I really hope you get better, Mie.” Alyssa stood up and

started walking to the door. “You seem to be a very nice and bright

woman.”

Mie blushed again and returned to looking at her feet so

Alyssa wouldn’t notice her red face. “Thank you,” Mie whispered

as Alyssa went back inside to meet up with her fellow trainee and

finish up so they could leave. She wrote a quick entry in her journal

about Alyssa then wandered over to Violet and sat with her at the

picnic table. “Did any of the fire fighters talk to you?” Mie asked.

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“Naw, you?”

“Yeah, the girl. Alyssa was her name. Very nice woman she

was.” Mie smiled, “and beautiful, too,” she added under her breath.

They sat together in silence, enjoying the warm sun and the

cold breeze that managed to reach them from above the brick walls

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152

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

At dinner, the dining area was full. The hospital had gotten

an usually high amount of intakes that day making the ward seem

very crowded very suddenly. James joined Violet and Mie at the

table they had saved for themselves. Normally people always tried

sitting with the same group over and over if possible, but today the

table Lionel generally sat at was full. Having the only empty seat

left, James invited him to sit at their table.

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Mie and Violet were wary of it at first. Lionel had already

proven to be an easily provoked individual and Mie didn’t want to

say or do something that would trigger an aggressive reaction.

Unlike the previous day, he seemed much more calm and peaceful.

Mie even noticed he was not muttering quietly to himself as much,

to Mie’s relief.

“So,” James said out of nowhere, “Lionel, why did you start

yelling at that nurse yesterday? What was that all about?”

Al three of them listened closely to his low mutterings. Mie

was able to pick out a lot of the words, but he spoke too softly for

Mie to hear everything he said. Lionel mumbled on much longer

than he probably needed to but when he stopped, everybody was

able to suss out what had happened.

“Oh, so your new medications were making you sleep all

day?” James asked. Lionel nodded to confirm. “Yeah, that’d make

me upset, too, so I don’t blame you at all.”

Lionel muttered in response.

“Did they get you on something else that doesn’t make you

so tired?” Mie asked.

Lionel turned and gave a garbled response Mie barely

understood. He kept talking with very little prompting. While they

–for the most part- were actively listening, they didn’t understand

the majority of what he said as Lionel often when on seemingly

unrelated tangents.

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Occasionally one of them would comment on what Lionel

was going on about, but generally they just listened. When dinner

was served, he was actually quiet; simply focusing on eating. As

soon as he was finished he gave his try back to the men handing

them out, and continued to meander around the halls like he did

almost constantly every day.

“Do you think he ever gets bored of doing that every day for

months on end?” Mie mused aloud. Violet and James just

shrugged. “Hmm. Personally, if I was him, I’d be happy about

medications that made me sleep all day if all I did every day for

months or even a few weeks was just wandering the tiny halls of

this mental hospital. But… that’s… that’s just me,” Mie frowned,

remembering all the times she would try and keep herself asleep

almost constantly because her depression was so severe. She had

stolen several bottles of sleeping pills from the store one day and

there would be several day stretches where she would take three or

six pills at a time, fall asleep, then take three or six more as soon as

she woke up. Mie would do this over and over until her body

simply refused to sleep and she’d have to wait until she could

naturally do so again. Often times she’d have to stay up for two

days at a time to restore the balance.

Mie considered those weeks some of her lowest points. She

was also more prone to cutting during those times because the

energy she exhausted hurting and bandaging herself, and the energy

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her body needed to recover made it easier to fall asleep. It became

a ritual: take three or six pills, slice up her arms and thighs, clean

up, sleep, and repeat every ten hours.

A shiver raced through her as the memories of the emotions

those moments contained came back to her in waves. She was able

to easily avoid them here in the hospital but was suddenly scared of

going back home where it would be so simple to just fall back into

these patterns once more. She liked the glimpse into contentment –

even actual happiness- this place had provided. If it were possible,

Mie would cling to it with both hands, but she knew ultimately help

was required.

Sadness is so familiar, Mie thought, that I forget how it feels to not be

depressed all the time. How nice it is… She used to be afraid of what

would happen if she tried getting better and actually feared being

too happy, but this taste reminded her, made her want it

desperately. Before when Dr. Singh had asked her what she

wanted, Mie simply stated she wanted to learn how to ignore her

suicidal thoughts and how to deal with her depression so that it

didn’t get in her way any longer. He didn’t notice that she never

said she wanted to get rid of them until she said so explicitly. “I

have no illusions that it will ever go away; I’ve suffered from them

all my life to some degree,” she told him. The doctor disagreed and

told her that it was possible to completely cure at least her

depression. At first Mie just dismissed the notion, but now she

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earnestly wanted his words to be true. More importantly, she

earnestly wanted to make his words be true.

Mie was jolted out of her increasingly saddening thoughts by

Violet.

“Hey, look at Emilio,” she commented, pointing as he

wheeled himself out of his room. Mie hadn’t noticed him all day

but was very pleased he looked almost completely different from

yesterday. Before he always stared emptily at the floor and was

probably the most defeated creature Mie had ever seen. Today, he

was a new person. She was relieved that he looked genuinely

happy: he was smiling at people that passed him by and kept his

head up the whole time. He was upbeat and cheerful: the polar

opposite of the downtrodden man she had spoken with yesterday.

“Hi, Emilio!” Mie waved. Emilio beamed and waved back. A

smile spread across Mie’s face, pleased by the dramatic change.

James once more took leave to exercise and nap, leaving Violet and

Mie to idly carry on their conversations alone.

Catching a glimpse of Dr. Silva walking to his office, Mie

excused herself to go ask him if he could schedule her for a quick

meeting before his day was over. He checked his watch, “well, I do

have a few minutes now before my next appointment. What is it

you wanted to talk about?” He led Mie back to his office and she

started speaking.

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“Sir, it’s just that when I’m in here,” she gestured all around

her, “when I’m in the hospital or really, when I’m not in my

house… I’m different. Right now I am fairly happy and chipper. I

can’t tell if this is the medications already taking effect, or if it’s just

the simple fact I am not currently in my house.”

“What are you worried about, Mie?” the doctor prompted

before she could further ramble.

“Well…” she paused, trying to think of how to phrase what

she was thinking, “it’s just that I’m afraid I’m going to be even

more depressed and suicidal once I get out. When I return home

after being away from more than a day, this always happens; I get

horribly depressive and it’s hard to pull myself out of it even

slightly. And… while it hasn’t while I’ve been here, I know that

many anti-depressants can cause suicidal thoughts and I have a

family history of people not reacting nicely to SSRI’s, which I recall

at least one of my meds being… and… well, basically I’m just

worried I’ll end up trying to kill myself.” She glanced down at her

bandaged wrists. “Again.” She sighed and wiped away a tear that

was sliding down her cheek. “And that this time I’ll be successful.”

Dr. Silva nodded. “That is a very legitimate concern.

Whenever you feel these suicidal feelings coming to you, I want

you to stimulate the five senses. Get yourself to a comfortable

place and focus on what you can see, hear, feel, taste, and smell.

Look at complex or pretty things. Listen to music you love. Loudly.

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Touch things with nice or interesting textures. Cook or eat things

you enjoy, or foods that have strong tastes such as mints or

chewing citrus peels. Smell lovely things like candles, simmering

oils, perfumes, flowers. Focus on these pleasant stimulations and

try your best to relax and wait your feelings out.”

He waited for Mie to acknowledge what he said. “But,” he

added “the most important thing is to talk to somebody about it

and to not be alone during these times. Go out, go to a friend’s

place, or have them come to you. Either way, try not to seclude

yourself.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mie said once he finished. He smiled and

looked satisfied. When the doctor ascertained that Mie had no

more questions, he released her and prepared for his next

scheduled appointment for the day.

While Mie already knew all the things he told her, it was

reassuring to hear somebody to actually say them. Outside the

hospital walls, Mie spent most of her time helping and supporting

people in their problems, often times those people were in her

exact situation. Many times she had given some extremely similar

advice to that which Dr. Silva gave her. It was rare to hear her own

words repeated back to her. The fact that it was a professional

saying them rather than some anonymous teenager on the internet

just quoting some silly saying they found on the internet

somewhere, made it even better.

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Mie joined Violet at the table; she had apparently just got

done talking with her boyfriend, which spawned more crazy and

adventurous stories from her past’s antics. While she admitted they

were embarrassing that they happened, that didn’t make her refrain

from sharing them with Mie. It’s like she realises the past is past, learns

from –or at least acknowledge them- and moves on. What has been done cannot

be reversed. I like that, Mie decided.

Night snack time passed, and Mie and Violet talked the

evening away; only going to bed because the nurses forced them to.

“Tomorrow is your last day! If I’m not up –as I feel I’ll be

sleeping a lot- make sure and get me up so I can at least say

‘goodbye’. Though, hopefully we’ll be able to have time to decorate

your shoes before you leave,” Violet told Mie as they walked to

their rooms.

“Alright! Well, either way, I shall see you in the ‘morrow,”

Mie went to bed with a glimmer of excitement bouncing in her

chest. She had no idea of what was to come but was looking

forward to it wholeheartedly.

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161

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

At first Mie was reluctant to get out of bed because she was

so comfortable and warm, but as soon as she remember that today

she would be going home she bounced out from under the sheets.

It took only a few seconds for her to jump into her trousers,

button up her shirt and trot out the door ready for breakfast.

James rarely was up in the morning. Bill was gone. Violet

remained asleep even though Mie tried to wake her several times. It

was quiet. Since the first few hours after her admission, Mie found

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herself alone. Without the enjoyment of conversation around, Mie

finally felt the true dreariness of the place. The dark cloudy sky

only added to the sullen atmosphere. Mie ate slowly while idly

doodling in the margins of her journal. Mornings were always

murmuring whispers: the world nor its people were not yet awake.

Mie wrapped her hands around a fresh cup of coffee and

inhaled the alluring aroma deeply. Instantly she could feel herself

relaxing and a touch of pleasure wash over her. The taste was

strong and soothing to her very core. Caffeinated or not, coffee

was always one of the few things that could quickly calm her

effectively.

Not knowing what to do with herself, Mie sauntered over to

the TV room and watched the morning news. Such a thing was

rare for her and Mie honestly could not remember the last time she

watched television on her own volition. The droning monotone of

the anchor man was monotonous enough to allow Mie to slip into

a meditative and relaxed state, letting her mind wander and mull

over nothing and anything.

Sometime about half past ten, James woke up and joined Mie

at their regular table picking up their spiritual conversations from

yesterday. “So, if you were to live by seven principles, Mie, what

would they be?” James suddenly asked.

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“Honestly?” Mie asked, blinking in a vaguely stunned

manner. The question caught her off guard, and while was not

unusually serious, she didn’t expect it.

“Honestly.”

“Well,” Mie paused to think. “Honestly… I’m not sure.

Never really thought about that…”

“Then get to thinking, kid,” he replied.

“I… I will. Thank you for such a good question…”

Mie and James sat in contemplative silence. She considered

the proposed topic, but every answer she thought of just never

seemed right, or even remotely good enough. They were all so…

fake. Perhaps there isn’t a proper answer to this?

When lunch rolled around in silence, Mie was finally able to

rouse Violet from her slumber. She passed James’ question to

Violet and was matched with a similar response to her own. After a

bit of quiet meditation on the subject, they broke the silence with

another round of Uno.

“Guys,” Mie interjected after the first round, getting the

attention of her table mates. “I talked to Dr. Silva briefly again this

morning: I’m for sure –probably- going to be released today!”

“Oh really?” Violet exclaimed.

“Yes! Assuming my parents can make the drive down here

and the doctor gets to talk to them like he said he needed to, then

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yes! It’s confirmed that today I will get to go home!” Mie practically

beamed as she spoke.

“Well then, we better get working on your shoes sometime

soon. I want to take a bit of a nap first, however. Right after this

game actually. If you could wake me up before visiting hours, then

we should have ample time to do that.” Violet said. “Oh yeah…

and I have noticed that many of our googly eyes have gone

missing, so the Women of Mayhem have to rectify that before you

go.”

“Definitely!”

All throughout lunch the Women of Mayhem made some

new plans for their dastardly final deeds. James, not included in the

females’ plotting went to his room to work out and take his normal

mid-afternoon nap.

Giggling all the while, Mie and Violet darted about the

hallways stealthily placing random pairs of googly eyes where ever

they could. This time they include the doors to patients’ rooms,

even their own. When they had exhausted all the places they could

think to put their mischievous eyes, Violet decided it was time for a

quick nap.

“Just make sure you wake me before visiting hours, okay?”

she reminded Mie. “Phineas said he’d visit and would be furious if

he ended up driving all the way to see me and I slept through it.”

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Mie circled the halls humming loudly to herself one last time

before sitting down. Realising that she had, once more, been

neglectful of her journal, Mie dug out her stolen pencil and tried

filling in as much information as she could clearly remember.

Conversations and days tended to blur, and while the time was easy

enough to keep track of, with the days all being so similar it was

annoyingly difficult to remember the order in which everything

happened off the top of her head.

Flipping through the pages, Mie was panged with sudden

guilt when she saw Miranda’s number on the back cover. Aside

from the one phone call last week, Mie had completely neglected to

talk to her. She practically jumped from the table and dashed with

her journal to the telephone room hopping it was unoccupied.

Thankfully it generally wasn’t used much early in the day so there

was no awful line to wait in.

Punching in the series of numbers, Mie waited for her friend

to pick up the phone. She couldn’t remember if Miranda had class

at this time, but figured she’d at least leave a quick message for her

if nothing else.

“Mie?”

“Miranda!”

“Well, so much for calling me ‘tomorrow night’! So rude of

you,” Miranda jested.

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“Yeah, sorry about that…” she apologised before launching

into the reason she called: her soon to be release. Mie also caught

Miranda up on most of the more interesting occurrences and

conversations she experienced over the past days since they last

spoke.

“Mie? You sound… happy. I like this.” Miranda finally said

after listening to her ramble on at length.

Mie could hear the smile in her friend’s voice. “You know

what? I am. It’s not a ‘I’m cured of everything and am now a ball

of sunshine’ happy, but more of a ‘I think I’m finally on the right

track’ contentment.”

Pleased with Mie’s change and situation, Miranda wished her

good luck on her escape and told her how glad she was to catch up.

“When you get out, we will most certainly make plans to hang out,

‘kay?”

“I am holding you to that, woman!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Mie meandered back to her table

and simply sat in mellow comfort. It was a lovely –forgotten-

feeling to just relax without drowning frantic anxieties or crushing

depression. Thoughts were light and fickle. Peaceful. She closed

her eyes in meditation for a seemingly timeless stretch leisure.

A voice eventually broke her from requiescence. “Mie?” it

called from some vague direction. She fluttered back to reality to

see that it was Juan calling her and waved a hand at him to catch

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his attention. “Ah there you are, if you’d follow me to the visiting

room please?”

“Oh!” Mie simpered then excused herself momentarily to

wake Violet before following the nurse off the ward so she could

see her parents. Unlike last time, they were waiting for her in the

visiting room already. Mie ran to them exclaiming, “Mommy!

Daddy!” as she gave them both tight hugs in turn.

“Hey kid, ready to go?” her dad asked cheerfully. Unlike last

time, neither of their eyes looked puffy from recent crying, which

Mie was extremely pleased to see.

“Very much so! This place isn’t horrible, but I really want to

be home again.” Mie was unsure of what was going to happen

next, both long and short run. Dr. Silva had said he needed to talk

to her parents first, but she didn’t know how that was going to be

arranged at all. “Um, let me try asking a nurse to call him perhaps?”

Mie answered after her parents asked where her doctor was and

walked over to Juan.

“I think he is busy, but I’ll go check for you right now,” he

said simply.

Pleased, Mie returned to her parents and filled them in on

the mischief she had been up to since last time they spoke. By the

time she nearly completed her tales, Juan returned with her

psychiatrist and directed the doctor towards Mie and her parents.

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“Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner , I’m Dr. Silva,” he

said, shaking their hands. Mie sat idly, only semi-listening to them

discuss the progression she made in the hospital and how the

release procedure went. “But, unfortunately Mie’s social worker…”

“Richard,” Mie supplied.

“Richard has already left for the day and he is the one that

has to give the final paperwork to her along with setting up

appointments with an outpatient psychiatrist who will take up

treatment from here.”

“But sir, you said I could go home today…” Mie protested.

“The social workers generally get off work at five, and I at

six. I was expecting your parents to be here sometime this morning

when discharges normally occur.”

“Oh…” Mie sighed, defeated. “Doctor, is there anything you

can do? Can’t you sign the papers and have him set up a meeting

over the phone or… something… tomorrow?” She pleaded.

“Please? I really, really miss my family and just want to go home

today.”

Dr. Silva scratched at his beard while contemplating her

request before answering. “Okay. I will see what I can do. In the

meanwhile, enjoy the rest of your visiting hour, Mie. Mr. and Mrs.

Faulkner , after your visit is over, if you’d just wait in the lobby, I’ll

get her discharge papers ready so if she can be released today you

won’t have to drive all the way back to pick her up.”

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Mie’s parents thanked the psychiatrist as he left before

returning their attention back to their daughter. In short order Mie

was filled in on how her sister has been and that her older brother

was graduating from college next month. Visiting hour ended

much too quickly for everybody’s tastes and Mie was escorted back

to the ward along with her fellow patients. Her parents gave her a

hug before heading back to the main lobby. With a sigh, Mie sat

down and quickly jotted the meeting into her journal while keeping

a –distracted- look out for Violet.

“Hey!” The startled Mie squeaked, her thoughts interrupted

by the sudden and load appearance of her friend. “How did things

go with the parental units?”

With a few short sentences Mie informed Violet on what she

and the doctor was going to try and arrange for her. “So yeah, I’m

not quite sure if I will actually going to be released or not but we

shall see!” While they debated on the likelihood Mie getting out,

the staff started passing out dinner trays. James made his usual

food-time reappearance after Mie went to fetch him from slumber

and the trio ate in a content complacency.

After dinner was cleared away James asked for Mie’s email

address. “Sometime when I get my group back together, I’ll invite

you over to play with me and my son.”

“That sounds fabulous! If you are willing to teach me, I’d

love to go,” Mie said. Shortly after tucking her pencil back in her

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pocket Luisa told her to report at the nurses’ station if she was not

busy.

“Mija, I have your discharge papers right here for you to

sign.” Not needing anymore prompting than that, Mie shuffled as

fast as she could –without getting in trouble for running- to the

nurses’ station. Luisa explained what each page in the packet was

for, which copies were for her, and which she had to sign for the

hospital’s records. Inside the envelope were several pages

summarising her diagnoses, her medications, an inventory of her

belongings, a temporary five day prescription to last her until the

appointment with an outpatient psychiatrist, and last but not least:

her copy of the official discharge paper documenting her release

from hospital custody making her a free woman once more.

As she penned her name to that last page, Mie was filled with

a torrent of apprehension. She was both scared and excited.

Mostly, however, she felt that there were to be drastic changes in

the future for her. A hard won future.

Last week if asked she’d have said that there was no future

for the girl named Mie Faulkner , but now there was no doubt

there is one and that she will fight to insure that.

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172

EPILOGUE

Sighing deeply, Mie gracelessly fell into her chair and turned

on her laptop. As it booted up and logged on, she started putting

her clothes away and changed into some PJ’s. Her slow computer

finally started and Mie was growing increasingly anxious about

returning online for the first time. Did anybody even notice I was gone?

What should I say if asked? Do I make a witty post on Facebook and

Tumblr or pretend nothing happened?

Taking a deep breath Mie pushed a side her fears,

acknowledging they were ridiculous things to worry about, and

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opened her browser. No messages or notifications on any of her

social media sites. Her heart sank. Oh…

She was about to close her laptop when she noticed a tiny

orange circle with a one inside it on her taskbar. A message! She

clicked on the notification and saw several texts from her really

close friend Drone.

[5/6/2013 2:43:57 PM] Drone: *poke!*

[5/7/2013 3:20:24 PM] Drone: Hellos?

[5/9/2013 3:37:12 PM] Drone: Hey... Are you okay? We haven't spoken

in a few days and I haven't seen you online all week it seems. Let me know

what's going on and as always: I shall be behind the computer if needed.

*Hugs*

Mie rested her chin on the desk, unable to process the

message she just read and the meaning behind it. Once she broke

free of her stunned stare, tears began dripping down her cheeks,

plopping noisily on the computer keys. She didn’t expect anybody

to notice her absence, much less be so concerned about her

wellbeing. She wiped her now runny nose with a sleeve and clacked

out a reply to her friend.

[5/14/2013 7:35:55 PM] Mie: Sorry I was gone

[5/14/2013 7:36:08 PM] Mie: I just got back from the loony bin

She sat staring at her screen hoping her friend was on,

growing exponentially more nervous as each minute ticked

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painfully by. She circled her room a few times, and fearing a panic

attack, dug out some old art supplies and started drawing gryphons

on a random scrap of paper.

BLEEP!

Mie nearly screeched and jumped as the message’s

notification cut through the heavily worried silence of her room

[5/14/2013 7:47:16 PM] Drone: Hey. Just woken from failed nap. :P

Call?

Despite how many times she typed and retyped the message,

Mie could not come up with a witty response. Sighing, she

eventually settled for a terribly simple reply.

[5/14/2013 7:49:59 PM] Mie: Yes!

A few short moments after she hit enter a little window

popped up on her screen with a green answer call and red decline

call button. Mie plugged in her headset and clicked the green

button. “Hey,” she said tentatively, her voice cracking.

“Mie! I’ve missed you so much, are you okay? What

happened?” Drone’s familiar and soft voice coaxed a grin from

Mie’s face and an exhale of pure relief.

“I’ve been really wanting to talk with you for so long. There

was no way I could call you from the hospital. I’ve missed you…

so very much…” She paused collect herself before launching into a

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very brief version of her tale recounting the major events of the

past week and a half. Occasionally she paused, grasping for words

or to choke back tears.

The ever patient Drone waited for her, letting Mie take as

much time as she needed and giving her sincere words of support

all throughout. “Mie?”

“Yes?”

“I… I am so glad you are still here,” Drone finally said once

Mie finished her several hour long narrative. “I really did honestly

miss you.”

Mie blushed, “thank… thank you. Seriously. That means a

lot to me.”

“Good! Now next time you better remember to call me

before you get any silly ideas like that and want to act on them

again, all right?”

“Deal,” she yawned.

“Hun, go get some sleep. You sound like you really need it

after all that.”

Mie nodded despite knowing Drone couldn’t see her do so.

“Okay,” she simply yawned again. Softly so that Drone probably –

hopefully- couldn’t hear, she whispered, “I love you.”

Right before she hit the button to hang up Mie heard –just as

softly- “I love you, too.”

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Well, finished at long last! The writing of this story was quite

the adventure. From the actual events that is the bases of this

book, to the tribulations involved in the writing of, it has certainly

been a hectic journey to say the least. There are so many amazing

people in my life that I simply cannot thank everybody for their

much needed support with the book and life in general, but I will

try because I am stubborn like that.

Mom and Dad, you two are the singular greatest parents in

existence and am so very lucky that I happen to be your spawn. I

know that sometimes you guys worry and feel you aren’t doing the

best of jobs raising us hellions, but that is utterly wrong. So stop

worrying. Stop that nonsense right now. You have supported and

encouraged me my whole life, helping when you can and –almost-

always listening to what I have to say. I love the two of you a lot.

Thank you for being fabulous beings.

Deztiny, I really must thank you for putting up with my

annoying behaviours and constantly spelling your name wrong for

the past nineteen years. I haven’t been the greatest sister ever, I

know, but I will always care and worry about you. Even if I don’t

show it, I am actually happy you are my sibling and am so

honoured –surprised- that you were so excited and supportive of

this silly book adventure. You really are wonderful.

This story would have been impossible to have even existed

without the lovely Cheryl. Woman, you are beyond great! Seriously,

your friendship made a potentially horrible situation an absolutely

golden experience. Since we met, I have learned so much and

thoroughly enjoyed everything you have introduced me to. So

thanks! You are a gem in my life and just cannot express that well

enough.

To my other friends I have not mentioned: I love you all. I

know that the past few years I have changed and probably had

many ridiculous moments where I was unbearably hard to deal

with. But, you stuck around despite it all and have been so

important to me and my wellbeing. Ya’ll rock for that!

Last but not least, Drone, my love… you are best person in

my life. End of story. Of everybody, you deal with my annoyances

and issues the most, yet you do so with such patience and care. It

really is commendable and I have NO clue how you have managed

it, especially for so long. I could go on, but I shall leave that for our

letters. Thank you for putting up with all my complaints and

whining during the writing of this book, and for all the franticly

manic ramblings about how excited I was during the editing. My

love, you probably are a saint.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Devin Johnston grew up in deep south Texas with many

horses, cats, and dogs where she fostered a great love for reading,

painting, and writing about fantasy worlds or creatures. With a

passion for knowledge, she enjoys spending her free time

researching and writing essays about psychology along with

creating fictional stories about struggles with mental illnesses.