January 24th, 1959. 5:27 am, some dinky town in Wisconsin.
I wake up to a loud screeching noise. I sit up from my position on Buddy and look around. I can't see much, it's pitch black.
Apparently Dion was woken up too. "Hey what's happening?" He whispers to Anthony.
"It seems like we done broke down, Imma go check the hood." Anthony responds.
"Damn it." I mumble. "It's already freezing."
"You're tellin' me." Bopper says from the seat behind me. "I've never been so cold in my life. I think there's a hole in my shoe, snow got in there earlier."
"Butter." Dion and I say in unison. We've talked about our ways to keep the cold out. He's lived in New York all his life, and it does get cold and snowy. It didn't really snow in Paris, but oh God, it was freezing. In Chicago, it wasn't unusual to snow over a foot. The Lubbock is just mild. It gets really hot, but the winters aren't bad. Doesn't snow much, but there are tornados.
"Why do I need butter?" Bopper asks.
"Seal the hole. Keeps the insolation in." Dion says. No one else has woken up. I can't say I'm surprised about Buddy, he's an exceptionally deep sleeper.
"Maybe I'll get some at the next place. Where are we?"
I pull my coat tighter around me. "No idea. It looks like some small town, there's almost no street lights."
"Yeah, probably. You know that that means?" I hear Dion stand up and look for something. "No rescue crew for a while. It's only 5:30 in the morning."
"Shit." I say, grabbing Buddy's left hand. I roll up his sleeve just enough to look at his watch. "Hopefully we don't die."
"If we do, we'll go out with pride and dignity." Dion sits back down.
"I feel like I'll just go out like Cyrano De Bergerac." I laugh.
"Who?" Bopper puts his hand on the back of Buddy and I's seat.
"You've never hear the story of Cyrano? You know the whole 'She wants a man made of Hercules and Cyrano' thing?" I respond.
"Can't say I have."
"Well, it is a French story. Basically in France in the 1600's there was a man named Cyrano who was in love with a woman named Roxane. I should mention that Cyrano was ugly, like hideous. Roxane was in love with another guy named Christian who was apparently really hot. Christian loved Roxane but he couldn't talk to women because he was so afraid or something. So Christian confesses his love of Roxane to Cyrano. Cyrano agrees to help Christian get Roxane. Some stuff goes down and Roxane and Christian get married because Cyrano managed to woo her while pretending to be Christian. Cyrano was this super poetic, smart, sensitive guy. Like a perfect gentleman, but alas, he was ugly. So anyways, France goes to war with Spain and Cyrano and Christian get sent to war. Roxane shows up to the war and then Spain attacks their base. Christian dies and Roxane is heart broken because she thinks that he was a major hottie who doubled as a gentleman is dead. She didn't know that it was really Cyrano's words she was hearing. Well, fast forward fourteen years and Cyrano and Roxane are living in a little village. Cyrano gets hit in the head with a brick and stumbles to Roxane to profess his undying love for her, Roxane says that she loved him for his soul. Cyrano dies in vain, he said he always wanted to die in battle, but instead he just dies in the woods. 'She wants a man made of Hercules and Cyrano' means she wants a handsome man like Hercules and a Gentleman like Cyrano.
"I've never heard that story." Dion says.
"Well, it's a poem. A really long poem. It's based off of a real story, but someone made it into a play. The entire play rhymes."
"The entire show rhymes?" Bopper says.
"Yeah. It's like two hours long. It's impressive." I smile. I got to see the play once in Paris. Koch snuck me into a showing.
"Wow. Does it rhyme when translated into English?" Dion asks.
"Kind of. Some lines do, some don't."
"Wow." Dion and Bopper mumble in unison.
Buddy stirs next to me and slowly wakes up. "Are we there?"
"No, broke down." I respond.
"Oh fantastic." Buddy puts his hand on my thigh. "It's a bit chilly."
"Really? I haven't noticed." I mumble sarcastically.
"How long are we gonna be here?"
"Hopefully not long." I put my head on Buddy's shoulder.
He rests his head on top of mine. "This is gonna be great. So much fun."
I grab his hand that's on my thigh. "Je t'aime."
"How do I say it back?" Buddy wraps his other arm around my waist.
"Je t'aime aussi."
"Je tayme aossi."
I laugh. "Close enough."
"Hey Violet, you mentioned you were good in school, right?" Well I guess Ritchie is awake.
"She was a genius. Still is." Buddy tells Ritchie.
"Shut up, no I'm not." I lightly shove his leg.
"Well anyway, did you have to read The Great Gatsby?" Ritchie asks.
"Yeah, why?"
"Can you help me later with this essay. It's about the symbolism of the names and the green light and the car and...yeah."
"Yeah, of course."
January 18th, 1955. 6:00 pm, Lubbock Hospital Psychiatric Ward
There's a knock at my room door. Thank God I got my own room.
"Violet, it's time for dinner, you have to come and eat." the nurse says. I still haven't learned her name. I got to my room and have just been sitting in here with Theo and The Great Gatsby. I keep flipping through the pages and reading passages. It's calming.
"Okay." I slowly stand up and smooth down the dress they forced me to wear. It's a thin, rough fabric. I wish they would just let me wear my normal clothes.
"Follow me." The nurse says.
She leads me down to a sad and overly lit cafeteria. There's four other teenagers there. There's a thin, blonde girl. A lanky ginger boy, a chubby brown haired girl and a giant boy. He looks really strong.
"Is this the new girl?" The blonde girl asks.
"Yes," the nurse says. "This is Violet."
"Hey, I'm Emma." The blonde says.
"Wyatt." The lanky one responds.
The chubbier one looks up from her hands. "I'm Nelly."
"And I'm Noah."
"Uh, hey everyone." I mumble.
The nurse ushers me to sit down at the table with them. The plastic chairs are the same kind they have at school, they're cold and hard. She leaves into the kitchen.
"Whadda you in for?" Wyatt asks.
"I'm not quite sure." I say, looking at my lap.
"Huh, I wouldn't expect to see someone like you in here, you look popular." Emma rests her elbows on her table. I see bandages wrapped around her wrists.
"I guess." I mumble.
"Skinny, pretty, good body shape, red hair and big eyes. You look like the archetype of a total popular bitch." Nelly sneers.
Oh fantastic, people are shitty even in psych wards. "I know."
"Oh so you think you're pretty?" Nelly raises and eyebrow.
"No," I look up and look her in the eyes. "I know I'm a bitch."
"Nelly, stop it. She's probably scared shitless." Emma furrows her eyebrows and glares at her.
Nelly crosses her arms. "No my fault that this rich girl thought her life sucked so bad that she tried something stupid. Some people have actual issues, thanks. And drop the accent, no one believes that shit."
I look back down at my lap. I wish I was back at home with Buddy and I wish we were playing cards or just laying in on my bed. I wish I was anywhere but here.
"Just because you have self esteem issues doesn't mean you have to bring down the new girl. This is why your father beat you." Noah shoots toward Nelly.
This place is already crazy.
A couple of people come out with trays of food, none of which looks appetizing. I don't think I've ever been less hungry in my entire life.
"Violet, the rule is that you have to eat a normal serving size, even when you're not hungry. If you fail to, you'll be put on anorexia watch."
"That's ridiculous." I frown.
"Given your current weight and loss of it, you're already on thin ice." The nurse walks over and places her hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, sad rich girl lost weight? That why you're here?" Nelly cocks her head to the left, glaring at me.
How did they already know my family has money?
Wait, nevermind. My dad is a surgeon here at this hospital. No wonder everyone already knows.
"I don't know how long I can stand that fake posh accent." Nelly bangs her fist on the table.
I ignore her. The people set the trays down and I shake my head. I'm really not hungry. "What's considered a 'normal serving size'?" I ask the nurse.
"Ask Emma, she'll help you get accustomed." The nurse says and she walks away.
I look over to Emma. She smiles. "One bread roll, a scoop of casserole, a scoop of the vegetable of the night and a scoop of mashed potatoes."
"Jesus Christ." My eyes widen
"I know, I understand. I wasn't hungry on my first day. We've all been where you are right now, we'll help you. Besides Nelly, she's crazy." Emma acts like Nelly isn't in the room.
I nod.
"If you want, we can play some cards after dinner. Do you know how to play blackjack?" Wyatt smiles and grabs the spoon in the potatoes.
"Uh yeah. I'd like that, my boyfriend and I play all the time."
"You in here because of him? You try to kill him? Or did he rape you?" Nelly gets the spoon in the veggies.
I ignore her again.
"I'm sure he's a wonderful guy," Noah says, kicking Nelly under the table.
"Yeah, he really, really is." I smile.
The Next Day, 10:38 am.
A/N: bolded sentences are spoken in German
"So, Violet, here in group we all talk about our issues and why we are here. We talk about how to get better and how to help yourself." Dr. Maddison says. Thank God he's here. "We'll start with you, Violet. Why are you here?"
"You already know why I'm here, Dr. Maddison." I mumble and cross my ankles. We're all sitting in a circle.
"Tell the group."
"I had a mental breakdown, I guess. I was really stressed and depressed and all that fun stuff."
"What could possibly be stressful to YOU?" Nelly narrows her eyes.
"You have no idea what Violet has been through, Nelly. Be kind." Dr. Maddison says calmly.
"No, it's not fair. This bitch comes in acting like she's oh so important. She's been faking hat dumb accent since she came in. She's faking it! Can no one else see that?" Nelly stands up and starts to walk toward me.
"Nelly, sit down now." Dr. Maddison warns.
"No, fuck this bitch. I'll give her what she deserves!" She keeps getting closer.
I stand up and start to back up. "I'm sorry." I put on my best American accent. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Nelly! Don't make us put you into the room again!" Dr. Maddison yells.
Nelly stops walking and goes back to her seat. I cautiously sit back down.
"My dad abused me." She whispers.
"Yeah?" I say.
"Yeah, tried to kill myself." She crosses her arms again.
"I'm sorry." I try to keep on the American accent.
"I bet your life is perfect, no beatings, no yelling, no cigarette burns."
"Far from it." I tell her.
"How?"
I look to Dr. Maddison. He nods. I guess I'm supposed to tell all. He gets his pen and pad ready. I think he wants to see how I tell the story in front of my peers.
"I guess I was an orphan for the first nine years of my life."
"And?" Dr. Maddison says. He's probing me.
"And?" I shoot back.
"Where were you during this time?"
"France." I mumble. I don't want Nelly harassing me about it.
Nelly scoffs. "France? That's a crock of shit if I've ever heard one."
This is why I don't open up from people! No one believes me and if they do, they don't think it could have been that bad. I've been conditioned to avoid conflict at any possible cost. "Uh, sorry. Chicago." I look down. "And um, I have a sister and brother. We're triple- I mean close in age. My sister and I look kind of similar. We got adopted and um, lived in Chicago until we were sophomores, then we moved here."
"And you're here why?" Wyatt asks in an oddly calming tone.
"Um, I guess I had a mental breakdown? I um, tried to uh, off myself a couple of months after we moved here."
"Pfft, had no reason to." Nelly mutters.
Dr. Maddison writes something down. "Nelly, stop it. We all have our own problems, I believe that Violet is trying to tell us about herself. I'm sure we would all appreciate it if you could stop denying her illness."
"No, fuck that. I wish I had a life like hers. Oh, so sad! Orphan girl at least got adopted! Boo hoo, orphan girls has a boyfriend and a support system of siblings." Nelly starts to fake cry. "Waah! My name is Violet and I think my life sucks!"
I fucking lose it. "Do you have any fucking idea what it's like to be trained to talk someone down so they don't blast your head off? How about being raped at the age of seven by a Nazi soldier? What about getting your hair bleached so you can pass off as aryan? Fuck you. We didn't have running water half of the time, I had to live with blood caked on me. I've fucking killed people, do you have any idea what that's like? I fucking wish I was just being beaten. Instead I was being beaten, raped, sold off, kidnapped and starved."
Everyone looks at me blankly. It didn't occur to me that I was screaming in German.
I try to flip the mental switch back to English "Oh, I mean, my life has just been a little rough. I don't really let on to it sometimes." I haven't spoken German in years, I don't know how I still remember it. Okay, well, sometimes I catch myself thinking in it.
"Nice fake German." Nelly sneers and crosses her legs.
"No, no zat vas real German." The security guard says. I've barely noticed him since I've been here. I think his name was Oskar. "I'm from zere." How am I just now realizing he has a German accent?
Shit. He understood me. I just confessed to murder in a psych ward. I hope he doesn't say anything. I look at his tag. Officer Braun. Yep, German.
"I'm sorry." I whisper.
Officer Braun looks at me and smiled sympathetically. "I understand vhat you're going through."
Dr. Maddison looks over to me. "Violet, why don't you go with Officer Braun for a while and you can talk to him. He's trained to deal with juveniles as well."
I slowly stand up and follow Officer Braun to his office. It's brightly lit and bare. No pictures of any family, no pictures of himself, nothing. Just a desk, three chairs, a filing cabinet and and a notepad and pen on the desk.
Officer Braun motions for me to sit down in one of the chairs facing the desk. He sits in the one beside me, not the one behind the desk. "Hi, my name is Oskar Braun. You're Violet, yeah?"
I nod. "Violet Winter."
"Nice to meet you."
"You too."
He reaches over his desk and grabs the pen and notepad. Every employee here has a damn notepad. "I'll cut to it. Vhy do you speak German?"
"I was taught it when I was a kid."
"Vhy did you learn German here in United States?"
"I'm really from France. Paris, really." I look at his pen.
"Paris vas under ze German rule, yeah?"
"Yes."
"Mhm, yes, zat is vhy. I noticed you said zome things. Beaten, raped, sold, kidnapped, starved. Zat seems standard for any German occupied zone. Vhich orphanage?"
"Cookeville. Northern Paris, near the river."
"I've been there. It vas dumpy."
I exhale. "You're telling me."
Writes down a couple of notes "How good are you at German?" Officer Braun asks.
"Fluent in proper and slang." I respond.
"Do you mind if ve speak German from here on? English is still a little hard for me, see?"
"No, I don't mind." I smile. It secretly pains me to speak the language.
"The beatings you mentioned, were they administered by the German Forces?"
"Yes. Often. Especially if we didn't meet their requests or requirements." I feel the aching in my stomach and chest that I felt so many times before.
"I'm so sorry on behalf of the German peoples."
"No, don't apologize, you didn't do anything, did you?" I look at him. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Of course.
"No, not me. I am only twenty-six. My father was the one who was the Nazi." He itches above his left eyebrow.
My eyes widen. "Oh, wow."
"I am sorry for all that has happened to you. Many girls have endured rape and kidnapping. Many, many. You are not alone, Violet, you are not alone."
My eyes start to water. The words keep replaying in my head. I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone.