Splinter

Katie Lockwood

It was nice of Claire to invite me to her birthday party, I thought, walking outside into the brisk, winter air. The clouds were beginning to knit themselves together overhead, forming a thick blanket that blocked out the sun. My fingertips moved and I began hastily buttoning my green peacoat over my blue, long sleeve thermal. I wish they picked a warmer day.

The parking lot was gradually emptying out as party goers and mall shoppers alike departed. The air smelled like exhaust fumes and grease from the nearby fast food restaurants. I didn't mind the smell. It was almost comforting. My phone buzzed in my coat pocket and I withdrew it, shutting off the alarm. It was time to take my medication.

Pills.

My life seemed to revolve around pills of various colors, sizes, and shapes. They kept my emotions in check and kept me from doing things I wasn't supposed to.

I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder two months after I turned fourteen. With medication and therapy, I managed to gain some semblance of normalcy in my day to day life.

Avoid stressors, take my medication, and keep a journal.

I hadn't lost control in over a year.

"Are you alright, young lady?" a man asked, catching my attention. I turned my gaze towards him, reaching up and brushing my hair out of my eyes. He was handsome- a strong jaw and angular face. His dark brown hair was shaved close to the scalp and he was peering at me through thin, metal frame glasses. His eyes were a beautiful cerulean and his skin was pale- almost paler than my own. The stranger was wearing a dark grey button up shirt that was fastened all the way to his throat along with a pair of dark slacks.

I smiled politely at him, hoping he would leave so I could take my medicine without an audience.

"I'm fine, mister. I just got a bit distracted on the way out to my car," I admitted with a shrug. I gave him a small wave. "I should probably get going though. Thanks."

The man didn't follow as I departed and I breathed a sigh. He seemed nice enough, but I needed to take my medicine.

If I don't..., I trailed off, shaking my head to clear away the negative thoughts. Nothing good would come from them.

I meandered through the long aisles of parked cars, searching for my own. It didn't take long for me to lose track of my place.

Oh boy... I worried. Where did I park?

I heard the slap of footsteps behind me and turned towards the source. The man before was standing there with a surgical mask over his mouth. I barely managed a small sound of surprise before he withdrew a small canister and sprayed something into my face.

My vision blurred, darkening around the edges. A weakness spread from my knees outward and I felt them buckle beneath the pressure of my weight. Unfamiliar arms caught me before I could collide with the asphalt. I felt the warmth of someone else's body and the stiff material of a shirt against my cheek.

Soon, I found myself unable to keep my eyes opened. As the heavy lids slid closed, I fell limp in the man's arms.

When I awoke, I was laying lengthwise on a single person cot with a heavy quilt on top of me. My limbs felt as if they were full of lead. There was a harsh thrum pounding against the inside of my skull as if my heart had traveled up my throat and into my cranium. With sloth-like motions, I dragged the quilt off of my body and let it tumble to the floor. My muscle response was inhibited by the remaining traces of the drug in my system.

I need my medicine, I thought, hauling my body into a sitting position. I glanced around me. The floor was a solid, light grey slab of smooth concrete. My boots were settled on the floor to my left but my socks nowhere to be found. The bed I was on was dark green with crisscrossed metal bars for the frame beneath. Two of the walls were covered in a dingy, off white drywall that matched the ceiling. The other two walls were made of a hodge podge assortment of rectangular stones. There were no windows, but there was a brightly lit bathroom to my right and a tall door in the wall opposite of me.