Under The Influence

Chapter 2 : Naomi pt 2

I was met with a general round of pointed stares, blank looks, and sneers. Only Lane spoke up at first.

"I'm feeling fine, Naomi," she chirped, smiling in what would have been a sunny way if she had been without the scar tissue covering most of her features.

Lane, though one of my happiest-seeming, most cooperative and cheerful patients, is also one of my most troubled. She has a twin sister, Leanne, who she feels outshines her in everything. To her, Leanne was perfect, and everyone else agreed as well. Next to Leanne, Lane's imperfections and insecurities were painfully obvious to her, and she felt, to everyone else. Though they were identical, Lane couldn't stop imagining that Leanne was prettier, smarter, and more competent. Every time she looked in the mirror she saw her sister's face staring back at her. One day Lane smashed the mirror with her fist, cutting her own face in a desperate attempt to look different from her twin.

Strangely enough though, ever since then she has maintained an absurdly cheery attitude, as though looking different from Leanne, even if she was disfigured, was all she needed to be happy. At least she appeared happy outwardly... inside I doubted her rage and depression had left, as she seemed to want us to think.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Surprise, surprise, Pollyanna."

"I'm glad, Lane," I replied. Turning to Reverie, her roommate, I asked softly but firmly, "And how are you, Reva? Are you all right today, has anything happened you'd like to talk about?"

Reverie shifted in her seat, her brown, deliberately blank eyes darting away from me. She swallowed, looked down at her lap, then at Lane, as if asking her to answer for her. She clasped her hands together. Small and thin for her age, she looked like an anxious little girl.

"She's okay," Lane answered for her. "She's been drawing some more, haven't you, Reverie?"

Reverie didn't respond, just clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap, obviously aware of everyone's eyes on her. One thing Reverie likes to do, the one thing that seems to relax her, give her release, is drawing- when she is most open, she will often draw herself up into a ball in a place removed from others and sketch in a little notebook she never lets anyone see. I have often wondered what images were hidden inside it.

"I asked Reva, Lane," I said gently. Looking at her steadily, I said, "Are you feeling all right today, Reva?"76

A long, drawn-out pause ensued, with Reverie holding herself still, only swallowing occasionally. I waited, praying one of the other kids wouldn't make a sudden movement or comment, break the spell- and for once, they didn't. They seemed to be waiting for her to speak as well. Finally she nodded, a short jerk of the head. I smiled, only a little disappointed. That would have to be good enough for today.

"Good," I replied. "How's everyone else? Julianna? Are you nightmares getting any better with medication?"

"NO," Anya cut in loudly. "She kept us up all night crying her damn head off."

She rolled her eyes. Lane, the group mother hen, glared at her, along with Zara and Ariadne.

"She can't help it, Anya," Ariadne said sharply. "If you can't deal with it, you can sleep in a bathtub or something. We won't miss you."

"Yeah, don't harass people about their personal shit," Zara snarled. "We don't rub it in your face that your parents fucking hate you, do we? We-"

"Only because I gladly tell you so myself," Anya said carelessly. "And because you know I don't give a shit."

Turning to Ariadne, she said, "And about sleeping in a bathtub, I'd be glad to if I wouldn't get my precious "privileges" taken away."

She put heavy, sarcastic emphasis on that word for my benefit. "Or I could just get a different roommate- we have two empty rooms and six people who have to share in groups of three. That's a little ridiculous. Why can't we room by ourselves? Trust me, I'd hardly off myself if I had my own room- I'm not like Slice-and-dice here."