The 'Psycho' In Psychology

2 - Cookies

   Drew to the side >>>>>

   As I skulked down the hallway, all I could think was what am I going to say to her? I couldn’t even say I had missed her; it was hard to miss someone when you could barely remember their face. I wondered briefly if she’d bring Adrian but dismissed the thought quickly. She would never bring him within a mile of me, that’s for sure. He was only 10, and she insisted on keeping him far far away from me. I guess now that one of the kids had gone crazy, she went to great lengths to keep the other sane.

   I never thought I could miss my annoying brother but here I was with an aching heart and a lump in my throat.

   As I was heading down the white corridor, I heard noises coming from my room. All I could think was Its Callie, she’s trashing my room. She trashed everyone else’s and now she finally got around to mine. I sighed, resigned. It was only a matter of time before it happened anyway. I knew staying out of her way would never work.

   The door was already opened a crack. I gently pushed it open, waiting for the fist that would soon connect with my face.

   Instead, Drew was sitting on my bed with a pack of cookies in his lap. My cookies. Cookies I had been saving for when I was feeling especially depressed.

   “Mshey schizshmo!” He muffled, spewing half chewed biscuit over the floor. He swallowed before continuing. “What did Dr. Malooney want anyway?”

   Suddenly furious, I stomped over to Delirious Drew and snatched the cookie he’d been about to stuff in his mouth out of his hand.

   “Those were mine.” I hissed. Drew put both hands up in surrender, dropping the cookie packet on the bed.

   “Sorry schizo. Friends share, right?” He smiled slightly. I think the worst part was, Drew didn’t seem to realize what he’d done wrong. I knew they were only cookies, but still. I had been looking forward to eating them, and there wasn’t a whole lot to look forward to in this place.

   “You are not my friend!” I snarled, and picked up the cookie packet. Drew looked hurt and I instantly felt bad. His hands curled up into fists, and an insane look shone in his eyes.

   “I’m sorry-” I barely choked out the words before his fist came around and connected with my head. Drew stopped. He stared at his fist, and slowly uncurled it before looking back up at me and darting out the door.

   A headache sprouted as if by magic so I had to sit down. The bedoffered little comfort, its sheets cold and unslept in. I crawled in dutifully, and started to shiver.

   **********

   That night I woke in a cold sweat, my whole body stuck in uncontrollable tremors. I hyperventilated, headache vicious.

   I sat up in my damp sheets, fully aware of the fact my meds were wearing off.

   I all but screamed when I saw Riley perched on the end of my bed.

   “Heya Sybil.” He said cheerfully, as if this were totally normal. I gasped and choked, but the stale air didn’t seem to be providing any oxygen.

   “Sybil?” Riley sounded worried now. I held up a hand as if to say ‘Give me a minute to take in the fact that my dead best friend is on my bed’

   When I finally seemed to be able to breath, I whispered “Why are you here?”

   “I’ve come to haunt you. Duh!” I stared at him and he seemed to get the idea. Not funny. “I just came to see…to see if you were, ya know, OK.”

   I raised my eyebrows “Seriously. Me. You want to know if im OK. Have you seen yourself?”

   Riley winced. “I’m dead, I know.”

   I hung my head. I said “I’m sorry.” But I knew it would never be enough.

   Riley sprung up from the end of the bed and came to sit next to me. He went to grab my face but his hand went straight through my skin. He smiled, but it was a humourless one “Oh, right, Ghost.” He dropped his hand “There’s something you should know Sybil.”

   “I don’t care whatever it is. God I can’t believe I killed you.”

   He stopped me “That’s the thing Sybil. You didn’t. You’ve got to stop blaming yourself.”

   “Go away…”

   He reached out “Sybil--”

   “Go away!” I screeched, pulling a sick smelling pillow onto my head, blocking out everything Riley.

   I lay there, shuddering for about an hour under my wall of pillows. Slowly, when I was sure he’d gone, I lifted my head. The outlines of others invaded my room, silently wandering through the walls and rising up and down the ceiling, but there was no Riley.

   Sighing, I picked up the packet of cookies and stuffed them into my mouth one by one until they where all gone.

   **********

   I stared at the mirror into the mirror, and tried to make myself look fairly sane. I was failing miserably; My big pale blue eyes where lined with red, my hair almost exactly the same shade as my skin – ghostly pale. Even with my best dress on – a pale pink cotton gown – I looked dead.

   After washing my face and running a brush through my tangled hair, I decided I looked…presentable. I wanted to make a good impression, I really did. The bitter taste of my pink pills lingered in my mouth, but at least I wasn't seeing ghosts.

   Clarence was waiting outside the door patiently, her hands neatly folded in front of her.

   “You look lovely Sybil dear.” She said brightly, even though I didn’t. Of course, it was her job to tell me that. “Are you ready?”

   No “Yes.”

   “Right then, let’s go!” She squealed, clapping her hands together and making a move to link her arm through mine as if we where old friends. Now that, that was where I drew the line.

   I snatched my arm back, cradling it gently. Clarence, shocked shook her head slightly as if she couldn’t understand my reaction and marched straight ahead.

   We stopped in front of Mr. Mahonie’s – Now Mr. Harts – door. I took a deep deep breath, and slowly pushed the door. I would not cry. I would not.

   One small step for mental patient, one giant leap for mental kind.

   My mother was sitting there, hands in her lap and eyes grave as if someone had died. Her dirty blonde hair sat in gentle waves around her shoulders. Slowly, she opened her arms.

   “Sybil…”

   My breath hitched, and the tears came flowing out.

   “Mom…”