Chapter Four
Just Insane
Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the skinniest of them all? I can not help mutter these words as I stand in front of the bathrooms mirror in me and Gabe’s small but relatively nice bathroom. The towel around my waist feels heavy and is almost sliding off my bones. I can hear Gabe snoring from in here but it’s to be expected, its twenty after midnight. I don’t know why I wanted a shower. I just felt like I needed one, like in some way the nightmares I was having were making me dirty. I felt dirty. But not on the outside.
A cloud of steam hovers above me and soon the mirror completely fogs up and my skeleton is no longer visible- thankfully, I think it got bored of me. The light above me is flickering on and off and as I walk towards the door, my feet leave behind wet footprints. I wait behind the door that is not locked. There is no locking doors in a hospital like this. They seem to think that wanting some privacy while you pee is actually wanting to go and puke. Which, most of the time, is true for some of the patients here. But not for me.
I push open the springy door and it creaks a little. Gabe stirs in his sleep, but soon rolls over onto his side and continues snoring. If it wasn't for him I would probably go crazy. Which is sort of ironic considering where I am. I dry off in the darkness, slip into the pajamas kindly provided by the hospital and then climb into bed. I can't help but place my hands onto my chest and feel around for those increasingly visible bones. They scare me and even though I know they are there, my heart still sinks.
I sigh and close my eyes. I know I need sleep. I've barely had any shut eye since I came here and its supposed to be a relaxation place too. How can I relax though? How can I possibly sleep when all I can think about is food and weight? Nevertheless I fall back asleep feeling in some way refreshed since the shower. I expected the nightmare to continue where it left off with me becoming so thin I just fade away. But instead I see Sammy. It's just her tonight. Its not a a memory of her. Its just her, standing there, smiling as if she knows everything I am thinking, which she usually does. I try to reach out and take her hand that she has outstretched to me but to no avail. She fades away into a wind and then I awake.
What only felt like a blink and you miss it dream was actually a full eight hours. Gabe's bed is empty, he's most likely in the cafeteria. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the blinding white light of the room. They could really do with some blinds in here. Everything seems so clinical. Maybe if they toned it down just a bit, added some colour here and there I wouldn't actually mind staying in it.
Theres a feeling I wake up to some mornings. This feeling I have tried to explain on many occasions but it was impossible. It strikes me immediately this morning and I know today I will not eat. The thought of food is already turning my stomach. The feeling consumes my thoughts, my actions. Today is going to be a bad day.
A small but rather plump, angry looking nurse walks into the room, behind her a man with a trolley. I know why she is here, her visits are becoming more and more pointless but I think she secretly enjoys them. There's always that one nurse. She looks like she hates her job and finds some amusement in watching her patients suffer. She stands in front of of my bed writing something on her clipboard.
“You ready for breakfast?” she asks, looking up from her board with beady eyes. I play with my hands for a second and then run my hand through my hair.
“You know, you look incredible today. New haircut? No wait, new uniform?” I smile, cheekily. She's having none of it.
“Are we going to have a problem young man?” hands are on her hip now.
“I'm just not hungry.”
She almost smiles like she was hoping I would say that. She turns to the man with the trolley who, surprisingly, is dressed in white. He lifts the try of food off the trolley and carries to over to me where he places it firmly on my lap.
Even if I was hungry, these beans and cold, unbuttered toast couldn't be more revolting. The beans look more yellow than orange. I inhale its ghastly scent and then push the tray away.
“Don't make us force you, Jack. Neither of us want to do that.” She says. Do I detect a hint of a threat in her tone? She steps forward and pushes the tray back towards me. I react too fast and fling the tray onto the floor. The trolley guy looks at me in shock and then puts his hand to his pocket.
I know where this is going. I jump out of bed and run to the other side of the room. The nurse raises her hands as if trying to calm me. I can't be calmed. Not when there's a big guy with a needle. I look around, heart racing. What will happen to me if I get that injection? I've only gotten one once before when I was young. Too young for something like that.
“Jack, relax. Just relax. Take a deep breath.”
I try listen to her, I try take deep breaths. But I can't. I catch a relfection of myself in a small bedside mirror and I see the skeleton that haunts me and also the image of me but a lot fatter. They are both mocking me, clouding my judgement. I stare at them too long and when I look back the guy with the needle is in front of me.
I turn to run but he grabs me around the waist with his two arms, the needle resting in his mouth. He grapples me, I try to slip out of his grasp but it is impossible. He jabs the needle straight into my neck and lays me slowly onto the floor. The last thing I see is the ceiling twirling above me and then the face of Doctor Bell.
*
Part of me knew exactly where I was going to wake up. I knew that when I did I would no longer be in my familiar surroundings, listening to Gabe snore. It had happened before but this time I had no expectations. The room is bright- extremely bright. The white padded room. As a kid I always thought it was some sort of play room until I ended up in it. There is never any laughter in here, never any smiles, barely even human interaction. Just me. Just Jack.
When I awake I am curled up in a corner. The straitjacket they have on my is quite dirty. My arms are already starting to feel dead and come to think of it my nose is itchy. Which is ironic. This jacket is a lot bigger than the one I was forced into wearing a few years back and has more restraints on it. Do they think i'm crazier?
I remember asking Bell what a straitjacket was before he put one on me. I can still see his face when he replied. “A straitjacket, Jack, is used restrain a person who may cause harm to himself, herself or others.” there was no pity on his face, no sugar coating it. Maybe thats the reason I respected him so much but he could have at least made it a game or something. Granted, locking a child in a padded room, restrained by a jacket is a pretty sick game.
I can feel time ticking by painfully slow. My mind imagines an annoying ticking sound and then I start to become nervous. My hands start wiggling trying to free themselves. I can feel my sharp nails clawing for freedom. I need to get out of here. I stand up, a little too fast. The blinding white light of the room makes me a little dizzy. The fluorescent lights in the room buzz continuously above me which only adds to my nervousness. The imaginary clock continues to tick, louder and louder. With each of its strokes I become more scared. What if I die in here? What if they forget about little old Jack in the white padded room?
I throw myself against the padded door. The knock back almost flings me to the ground. I don't give up, I thrash against the door again, and again. Each time hurting more and more on my shoulder. The clock is ticking so fast now its ticks beat simultaneously with my heart. I start screaming while continuing to trash against the door. I don't care that I am crying. I want out of this room.
I feel like I am trapped in my mind, as if the room is an extension of my brain. In one corner there is a skeleton wearing a trench coat. I know he's waiting for me. In the opposite corner is the big guy. The skeleton and him are starring at each other, which sort of reminds me of a boxing match. The crowds are screaming and roaring but its just me really.
As I wriggle inside the jacket, I can feel the restraints becoming loose. It's not odd for them to leave it open a little, it's not like I am criminally insane. But they know what I've tried to do to myself in the past when locked up so I guess I can see why the jacket is needed. I pull my arms as far away from my chest as possible and keep doing this until the sleeves become loose.
The camera above the door watches me and for a moment I look directly at it as if threatening who ever was is watching me. I must look crazy to them but I don't care. They don't know the demons that are trapped in here, in my mind! I pull the sleeves out completely and revel in my freedom. The skeleton and the over weight boy fade into the walls.
The room falls silent. The ticking clock is gone, my heart rate slows. I take in my surroundings- a sink and toilet and a smaller than single bed with grey sheets. The grey looks odd in a room like this. Maybe the problem is I fit too well in this room. Am I really crazy? Insane? Do I belong in this institution? At the start it was just anorexia but is it more now?
My far from golden silence is interrupted with the sound of someone fumbling with keys and then the lock clicking. The door swings open. Two men accompany Bell into the room, another person who I can't see waits outside- I can only see his black jacket and New York Yankee cap. I try peer out to see who it is but Bell stands in my way. He bends downs and picks up the jacket, almost surprised that I got out of it.
“You're making this so much harder than it has to be, Jack.” He flicks his fingers to his assistants who nod and walk over to me. They each grab an arm and then lift me reluctantly. I try break free but what is the point in trying anymore?
They lay me down on the bed, pinning me too it with straps around my wrists and ankles. The smaller assistant takes out an injection and I look away as he prods me with the needle. I bite my lip in pain. I never liked needles.
I don't look back to the door. I can already feel the effects of the injection kicking in. my vision becomes blurred, my hearing crackles. Everything is spinning again and when I finally do look back to the door, Bell is talking to the person with the cap.
“Two minutes, okay?” He says to the stranger who nods in reply. The person walks in. It's definitely a boy. He has his hands in his pockets. I can't see his face. He looks at me and I can tell he pities me. My eyelids become heavy but I try keep them open- I want to know who is visiting me like this.
He walks slowly over to me and kneels down beside me. My head falls to the right and I am looking right into his eyes. Those eyes. Eyes I could never forget and never mistake for they are so rare and beautiful. He pulls off his hat, his blonde curls have never looked so perfect. He smiles sympathetically and speaks before I drift off.
“I'm sorry for what I have put you through, Jack.” and then kisses me on the forehead. Before he leaves and before I go I manage to mutter his name but with more of a questioning tone.
“Chris?”
I fall into the depths of my mind with so many questions. Had my friend who I presumed dead, who I watched getting buried just come to visit me? Was the affects of the white padded room taking its toll on my mind? Was I seeing things? Could my grief over my best friend bring him back to me in some weird way? All I know is I saw him- he was there. Call me crazy for that is how it seems. The whole idea is crazy. And maybe so am I.
Maybe, I'm just insane...