Insanity (15 page)

I face the window again, but Damien is gone. I reach up and place my fingertips against the glass, letting them slide down the cool and smooth surface. The window is almost slippery. Icy. Wet. The slickness of it makes me nervous. It also reminds me of Oakhill Asylum. You have to tread carefully in a place like this, a place like Oakhill. Move slowly. Cautiously. Because you never know when you might slip and fall.

A terrifying shriek pierces the air and Aurora and I turn, facing the group of girls sitting on the couch. The chubby brunette who usually palled around with Cynthia sits with her knees to her chest, head buried, her limbs shaking. The blonde with the butt-length hair is comforting her and the rest of the eight eyes belonging to the group members are centered on the open arched doorway.

I almost don’t look. My eyes wash over the girl’s in the group’s faces and every single one looks like they’ve seen a ghost. Aurora nudges me in the side, prompting me to turn my attention to the door. I grit my teeth and force out, “No.”

“Just look,” Aurora states. As my eyes wash over the room again I realize I’m the only one not looking. Obviously whatever is in the doorway has left an impact. A few girls like the chubby brunette are shaking and sobbing. A few more have their mouth’s hanging open, eyes wide in shock. Another nudge from Aurora. “Seriously. You need to see this.”

Bravely, I turn my head in the direction of the door. I choke on a gasp and swallow it down when I see Suzette standing in the doorway, a vacant expression in her toffee colored eyes. She stares off, not focused on anything in particular. Her once tan skin has lost all of its color and has a grayish hue to it.

She takes a hobbled step forward and the entire room gasps, a few girls even cry out, frightened of the girl we used to know. This girl is not the girl we used to know though. This girl is a zombie, a product of the asylum and what happens to a person if they defy the rules.

Suzette tilts her head to the side, and her reddish brown hair falls away from her face, revealing a gauze-like white patch, taped over her right eye. Another hobbled step forward from Suzette and my back hits the window. The girls on the couch are huddled together, holding each other. Aurora backs into the window too.

First off, I thought I was seeing a ghost because I assumed Suzette was dead. But then I realize that if everyone else can see her that theory is probably just a fabrication I made up in my mind. Then I wonder if maybe one of the staff members brought her up here. Maybe they are using Suzette to give us a message and that message is:
Any of you could be next.

Chapter 17

~AFTER~

No one moves.

Suzette has been standing in the same spot, staring. A ghost-like, lopsided smile twitches on Suzette’s lips and my stomach does a back flip. I blanch and have to look away. This could be Cynthia. Could be Aurora.

This could be me.

It’s not until Marjorie walks in and opens her mouth that I look in Suzette’s direction again. “Ladies time—.” The burly nurse with red lipstick on her two front teeth takes one look at Suzette, her big eyes go wide and she runs from the room screaming, “Damn it!”

Seconds later two orderlies, another nurse, Marjorie, and Dr. Morrow run into the rec room. Dr. Morrow is shouting instructions at the orderlies and each one of them clutches Suzette by the elbow. Dr. Morrow shouts at Marjorie and the other nurse, “What the hell happened? How did she get out?”

But I thought she was dead?

My gaze breaks away from the argument and I stare at the floor as Marjorie and the other nurse explain that they locked the door to Suzette’s cell and aren’t sure how she was able to break free. A few more scolding comments from Dr. Morrow and the argument is over. He storms out of the room and Marjorie shouts commands at the orderlies, and they try to pull Suzette from the room. They start by gently tugging on her elbows and when she doesn’t budge they use more force and begin dragging her from the room by her heels.

I’ve worked up the courage to look at Suzette again and it’s like she knows my eyes are on her. She twists her head in my direction, her toffee eye burns through my skin, and then she lets out an insane cackle. She doesn’t bother thrashing, trying to free herself. I’m not even sure if she can. The sound of her cackling fills my ears and infects my mind as the orderlies yank her from the room and drag her down the hall.

Obviously, her appearance wasn’t planned by the staff. That was evident by the look on Marjorie’s face when she first saw her. And it was evident by Dr. Morrow’s accusing questions.

The look on Suzette’s face before she was dragged out of the room flashes through my mind and I shudder. It’s like with that final look she was giving me a warning. It’s like she was saying;
Get out while you can.

Chapter 18

~AFTER~

At dinner I can’t find my appetite.

Today, they served macaroni and cheese which just so happens to be my favorite and the most appetizing thing they serve here. And even though my stomach is howling with hunger and my mouth is salivating just thinking about a mouthful of cheesy delight, I can’t seem to bring myself to eat. I even try a few times, bringing a few spoonfuls of elbow macaroni smothered in cheese to my lips. Then I see Suzette, unwashed hair, white eye patch, haunted look, and crazy cackle. I tilt my spoon to the side and all the macaroni falls onto my orange dinner tray.

I push around the noodles on my tray with my fork as Aurora sits down next to me. She’s toned it down on the crazy act for today, but occasionally when someone looks in our direction, she’ll dig her fingers into the cheesy slop on her tray and then writes on the table in macaroni and cheese ink. She keeps her head low, writing the word
escape
over and over and over again. Then she’ll wipe the words away with her napkin, repeating the process. She scoots closer to me, lowers her voice and says, “How fucked was that?”

I can’t even find words. I continue pushing my food around on my tray.

Aurora goes on. “I thought she was dead.”

At that comment I find my voice. “Me too.”

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy people come into this place, but I’ve never seen anything like that.” Aurora picks up a piece of macaroni with her thumb and forefinger, pops it into her mouth, sucks all the cheese off, then spits it out with force and I watch as it sails through the air before landing in someone’s hair.

“Where do you think they were keeping her?” I ask.

Aurora shrugs. “Maybe the basement.”

I peek up at her through my hair. “You think?”

“Like I said a second ago, maybe.”

I tsk, “Well you’ve been down there before. Don’t you remember seeing anything? Didn’t you see other people?”

Aurora stiffens in her spot and pushes her tray away. “I already told you, “she snaps. “I don’t like talking about it!”

I know she’s already mentioned that she doesn’t like talking about her trip to the basement, but what I want her to understand is that even the tiniest sliver of information she’d be willing to give could be useful. Helpful. “I know and I’m sorry for bringing it up,” I mention. “It’s just that…”

She cuts me off with a fierce look and a growl, “Leave it alone.”

“Aurora I—I’m—”

Her temper flares and she screams, “Drop it!”

My mouth hangs open. I was dropping it. I was trying to apologize for bringing up such a painful subject to her in the first place. The entire cafeteria is silent and all eyes are on us. Pink flushes my cheeks and I turn my head away, embarrassed. Peeking over at Aurora, I open my mouth to try and apologize a second time, but the words get stuck in my voice box. I mumble incoherently and Aurora pushes her tray onto the floor, gets up from the table, and stomps off before I can verbalize anything.

I know it’s my own damn fault for pissing her off. God knows I have a list just as long as she does about the subjects I never want to talk about. But the thing is, if any of my painful past held a piece of information that could be of help to someone else, I’d talk. Or at least I like to think so.

A hand grips my shoulder and I tense up. There are lips by my ear. Hot breath trailing down the nape of my neck. A deep voice.
Damien’s voice.
And one word. “Tonight.” His hand leaves my shoulder and I spin around to notice he’s gone. An ache throbs in my heart, but that ache fades fast when I come to the conclusion that he wants to plot our escape. A smile curls on my lips. See, I’m not like the girls here when it comes to living in fear. Yes, certain things or circumstances frighten me, but I’d rather go down fighting than sit around and do nothing.

~ ~ ~

Aurora hasn’t spoken to me since dinner.

At lights out, we both lie on our cots the sound of our breathing swells and cuts into the silence in our small, square room. Footsteps and muffled voices bleed through the walls and I wait until thirty minutes after they fade to make a move. Creeping out of bed, I hover over Aurora, my eyes darting over her face. I poke her with my finger. She groans, still in a deep sleep then rolls over, her body facing the tan plaster wall.

I wait another ten minutes. Then I crack my door. My eyes sweep the corridor. The eerie quiet fills my ears and the flickering lights burn my eyes. With one last look at Aurora I slip out into the hall, close the door softly, and sneak off to meet Damien.

He’s already in the utility closet when I arrive and he blankets me with his arms the minute I step through the door. His hands touch my cheeks and send warmth throughout my body. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, his lips against my forehead. He kisses me softly.

I let out a soft giggle. “You just saw me.”

He smiles and his bright white teeth gleam in the light, practically blinding me. “Seeing you for a few seconds or minutes isn’t enough. It will never be enough.”

I give a slight nod in agreement. Even when I see him, I feel like my heart is splitting in half, knowing that our encounter will be brief. “Have you come up with some kind of plan?”

He peers down at me and raises an eyebrow. “Plan?”

“You know,” I say. “For us to escape.”

“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m still coming up with one.”

I pull away from him, staring up at him, baffled. “But I thought that’s why you wanted me to meet you?”

He wraps his arms around me tighter. “Is it a crime that I just wanted to see you?” There’s a smile in his voice. “After all, you are the love of my life.”

“No,” I say, my voice filled with slight disappointment.

Damien catches on, noticing the quiver in my voice. He grabs my chin with his thumb and forefinger, jerking it in the direction of his face. “Don’t be sad, beautiful.” He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his nose along my cheek. “These plans take time to develop.”

“I know. It’s just I feel like this place is eating away at little pieces of me every day. Your mention of a plan gave me hope, you know?”

His blue blue eyes flit across my face. There’s a tortured look in his eyes and it’s like my pain is his pain. “I promise you, love,” he begins, “I’ll come up with something first thing tomorrow.”

“You swear?” He’s never broken a promise to me, but something about this encounter seems off.

He makes an
X
on his chest. “On my life.”

I rest my head on his chest. I wait for his heartbeat to blast through my eardrums. The gentle steady beat. Pounding. Thumping. But it never does.

I don’t realize I’m being pulled away from him until I hear Marjorie’s voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her manly hands are on my biceps. Damien is reaching for me and screaming at Marjorie, a scowl on his lips. “Let her go!” He starts for me, but Marjorie drags me out into the hall and slams the door to the utility closet in Damien’s face.

“No!” I try to stretch my arms, but Marjorie digs her fingertips in deep. I move forward with force, taking Marjorie with me for a few steps before she regains control and yanks me backward. I stumble, almost falling. My shrieks coat the walls of the corridor and I notice that a few patients have opened their doors. In a panic my head whips back toward the utility room door. Damien is opening it and running toward us. I straighten my fingers. “Damien!”

Marjorie drags me past my door and I glare at Aurora. She stares off blankly, a frown on her lips. “Did you do this?” I shout accusingly. “Did you tell? Aurora how could you?”

She doesn’t confirm my accusation, but she doesn’t deny it either. All she does is exhale before slamming the door to our room. Dr. Morrow comes stampeding down the hall with another nurse. In his hand is a mind erasing drug. I’m about to be sick. The hall spins around me in circles and if Marjorie wasn’t holding my arms so tight, I know I’d hit my knees. For once I’m actually thankful that she’s holding me so tight.

I dig my heels into the floor several times, trying to stomp on her toes, but she’s quick, and on top of that, she knows that I’d try something like that to break free. I sneer up at the scowl on her lips. She’s gloating. It’s like she’s saying;
Yes, you little psycho bitch. I’ve outsmarted you.

I whip my hair back and forth, trying to get it in Marjorie’s face, but she keeps her grip on me and leans away from my wild hair. After Dr. Morrow shouts a command, the two nurses pin me down on the freezing tile floor. I squirm beneath their grasp, kicking, and screaming so loud that my throat is raw and my voice is hoarse. Tears matriculate in my eyes and I blink them back, my eyes desperately scanning the hall for Damien.
Where is he?
I saw him running after us.

Dr. Morrow crouches down in front of me, a syringe in his hand. He tests the needle to air it out and I watch the drugs inside spout from the tip in an arc. Dr. Morrow’s eyes center on me and I notice the annoyed look in them. He brings the needle close to my arm. “This should shut you up for a while.”

I try to wiggle, but can’t. Marjorie has both my arms and the other nurse has both of my legs. My mid-section is writhing, but that’s not going to get me anywhere. Dr. Morrow is a bastard. I hate him with a passion. He’s the creator of the Oakhill zombie army. Zombies like Suzette, probably Cynthia, and God knows who else. I may be immobilized, but I’m not out of options. I gather as much saliva as I can in my mouth, roll it around in a wad on my tongue and when Dr. Morrow is an inch away I spit in his face then shriek as loud as I can.