I woke up to someone standing over me and I started screaming. Or I started screaming and I woke up as someone came over to me. I couldn't tell anymore. There were moments when I knew I was safe and it was going to be ok and I would improve in therapy. And there were others where I screamed in the dark until I started crying and someone would find me. Then it was back to medical for another meeting with the mental doctor.
I don't even know why they bother letting me out. Everyone, including myself, knew I was unstable.
I couldn't be the person everyone expected me to be.
Nathan helped me out of my room and down the hallway to medical. I had stopped screaming, but I knew he had to do it. That was one of the reasons he was given a key to my room. I don't know who else has one because he's always the first to respond whenever I have a breakdown.
"What was it this time?" the doctor asked Nathan.
"She woke up screaming."
"That's normal. Key, I'm going to give you something to take to help you sleep."
He handed me a small bottle of pills. "One right before you're about to sleep."
I looked at the bottle, but I couldn't take it. I shook my head. "No. I can't."
"Brooke, it's to help you," Nathan said.
I started crying. "No I can't. I can't do that."
"Ok." Nathan took the bottle. "You don't have to. Can you tell me why you don't want them?"
I nodded. "I was in there for 38 days. I didn't know that until yesterday. I thought it was less and they made sure of that. I was given drugs that would knock me out and then they would wake me up and move me somewhere else. I was constantly tired and after the third time, I didn't know what day it was or what room I was in. I can't do it again."
"Agent Key, you're safe," the doctor said. "There's nothing for you to worry about."
I looked down at my hand, with all the fingerprints gone. I knew he was wrong.
"I can't do this anymore," I said. I kept having flashbacks that left me screaming, and the only thing they could do to help me is to give me a bottle of sleeping pills that triggered my reaction even more. There was no way to escape it.
It was a cycle. A cycle that I had to make it through, and not for my own sake.
"Brookie," Nathan started to say something, but I stood up and walked out. It was a slow pace because of my stupid crutches, but Nathan didn't catch up to me. He didn't even come after me. I needed to be alone.
I curled up in the booth in the lounge. There was no one in there. Of course not, anyone awake would be off working somewhere. I was the only one here.
The door opened and Maddie walked in. Maddie was perfect. Completely perfect. She had the best blue eyes in the world, the always perfect looking red hair. She was tall, but not so tall that she was towering over people. She was smart and athletic and always knew what to say to people. I couldn't have dreamed up a more perfect person.
"You good?" Maddie asked as she sat down across from me.
I shook my head. "I can't be good. I can't be anything anymore."
She smiled. "I know. But you have to be. Promise me you will."
"I can't. I keep saying that. I say that to everyone. Literally everyone. They ask me to do something, and I can't. I can't even sleep anymore."
Maddie laughed. "Yes you can. You just got to get out of your own head. It's what I do."
"Easy for you to say. You're perfect."
"I'm not perfect," she said as she shook her head. "You only think I am."
"Why do you always know how I feel?" I asked.
She smiled. "Because I'm always here for you. You think that you can't be the Brooke Key everyone needs? But what do they need? They need you. Doesn't matter if it's Elitist you or regular you or you with stitches. They don't care."
"I care," I replied.
___
Chelsea woke me up the next morning. I was still in the booth. "Hey. You freaked everyone out. They thought you were gone again."
I had actually had a good rest without drugs or anything. It was the first time that happened since I was back.
"Sorry for waking you. I heard that sleeping's been hard."
I nodded. "I've had help."
"Those sleeping pills from medical? Yeah, they work wonders."
I bit my lip and shook my head. She seemed to realize she said something wrong.
"Do you want to go get some food? Anything you want, I'll have someone get it. Even if it's something ridiculous, like fresh sushi from Japan, or homemade pizza from Italy."
I shook my head. "I still can't stomach food for very long. I'm going to have to go to medical for my nutrient injections for the day."
Chelsea shook her head. "How do you deal with that?"
I sighed. "I don't. That's why I fell asleep here."
"Do the doctors think you're unstable?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. I have breakdowns sometimes, actually a lot of the times, but I'm not on anything for that. They said therapy should slowly reduce the number of breakdowns I have."
"That's good!" she said.
I shrugged, and then winced because it hurt. "I guess. So far it hasn't done much."
"It's been two days. There is nothing that makes a big change in only two days. You just have to wait."
"Last time I waited, it ended up being 38 days, and I didn't realize it."
Chelsea put her hand on mine. "It also won't help if you think about it all the time."
"I can't really help it. I run through every decision that I made leading up to it and wonder if I did something differently if it would've changed what happened. Even if I come up with something, there's absolutely nothing I can do but look back and regret what happened."
"Does it help to talk about it?"
I tried to shrug, but then I remembered what happened last time I tried to shrug, and I didn't. "I don't know. I guess only time will tell."
"No one blames you or thinks less of you for what happened. We all think you're strong for making it through."
"Ned died because of me."
Chelsea shook her head. "Don't think like that."
"Why not?" I asked her. "It's true."
She tried to change the subject. "Do you want me to come down with you to your doctor's appointment? I heard you might be getting your stitches out."
I smiled. "I almost forgot about that. Thanks! Yeah, you can come."
The two of us walked down to the medical wing, where my doctors were waiting for me. "We are starting a new protocol for you, Agent Key. A new piece is going to be installed into your vest so we can monitor how long you sleep. You will also have to check in with someone for scheduled intervals, either a doctor or an assigned agent."
"What? Why?" I asked.
"We want to make sure you are safe," my doctor replied.
"I don't like it."
"Agent Key, this isn't coming from us."
"But which is more important to you: my physical safety or my mental safety? Because knowing all of this is happening to me is just going to make everything worse. I don't want to be watched. I don't want to be monitored. I want these stitches out of my leg and my friends can take care of the rest."
"I'm sorry, Brooke. But this is a direct order from Agent Katherine."
"Well, then you can go tell Agent Katherine to come talk to me about it, because that's not happening."
I turned around and took a few steps towards the door. Then I turned back around. "Which one of you can take out stitches?"