“Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes? Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of is disappearing when you wake up, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. Even when the night changes, it will never change me and you.”
– One Direction, Night Changes
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Monday mornings were better when you didn’t have to get up and be productive.
My alarm clock woke me up before my body was ready to face the new challenge of my life, starting today. It was officially my first day of work, and I couldn’t be less excited.
Somehow I recalled telling Lisa that this would be the start of something new, a new chapter in my life.
Now that I had a job to focus on, I wouldn’t think that much about Harry anymore.
After I had left Gemma at the library a few days ago, I had promised myself I wouldn’t sulk anymore. I was done with Harry, but it was easier said than done. There were too many memories that reminded me of everything I had lost.
I threw my blanket aside, encouraging myself to get over him, for once and for real.
Screaming babies and tons of new knowledge, what else could I want in life?
1 hour and 7 minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table and questioned my life choices. Was it really the right decision to drop out of college?
“Zoey, Zoey. My sunshine, my beloved one. The one and only. You are-“ Phoebe walked in, a beaming smile on her lips.
I held up a hand to silence her. “What do you need?”
“Nothing, I’m getting the car but mom told me to drive you to the hospital,” she explained and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, filling it with milk before she dropped the cereals in it.
I didn’t even blink, too used to her weird habit. “Cool.”
“Aren’t you excited? I’m excited for you. I will change majors, by the way. Psychology is the way!” She happily chatted, ignoring my grimace.
“I already feel sorry for your patients,” I commented, emptying the bowl in front of me.
“Well, I feel sorry for the babies. They’ll be forever traumatized,” she exaggerated, sticking her tongue out.
“You should appreciate my effort. I traumatize babies so they’ll go to you twenty years from now, talking about their awful childhood,” I pointed out and grinned at her as I walked out the door and back down the hallway to brush my teeth.
Phoebe kept her word and drove me good-naturedly to the hospital, happily singing along to the songs on the radio.
“Aren’t you depressed that you have to go back to college?” I asked her cautiously.
“Far from it. I’m excited to see my friends again, and, believe it or not, but I already know that I’ll have Mr. Sanderson in history this year.”
“Praying for you,” I mumbled and watched as she carefully parked the car in a lot close to the entrance.
“Hey, he’s a nice guy. Maybe he will be my patient one day, rambling about how awful you and Lisa were,” my sister laughed, slapping the wheel like a retarded seal.
“He will definitely need therapy after that,” I nodded along to her words and unfastened the seatbelt.
“Have a nice day,” Phoebe called after me but I was already out the door and halfway gone.
I entered the hospital and was immediately welcomed by the smell of disinfectants that somehow always lingered in every hallway. No matter where I went, the smell seemed to follow me.
Ignoring the woman at the counter, I walked right to the nursling track where someone was supposed to wait for me.
“You have to be Zoey,” a middle-aged woman cheered as soon as I rounded the corner.
I eyed her outfit from head to toe. She was wearing some kind of white jeans, white – God help me – Crocs and a dark blue shirt. Her name tag read Emily.
“Hi?” I replied, kind of unsure.
“I’m Emily,” she continued and motioned for me to follow her, “and these are your working clothes.”
I scanned the pile in front of me. All I saw was a mess of white things, and a pair of white shoes that you’d normally wear at home. It could definitely be worse.
Emily showed me where I could change and told me to meet her outside in five minutes. I politely thanked her and quickly stepped into the clothes she had offered.
The pants were a size to small and I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly in them, but after some jumping jacks and a few squats I at least could close them. The t-shirt fitted perfectly and wasn’t see-through and the slippers were genuinely my size.
I checked myself in the mirror and decided that white didn’t suit me.
Sighing, I tied my hair into a ponytail and spoke a few encouraging words to my reflection. I could do this, this would be fun.
After exactly five minutes, I had convinced myself and left the room, nearly running into Emily who was waiting in front of the door.
“Perfect. We’ll start with some easy tasks. You will learn most things at school, but this week I’ll just explain where you find all the things you need for work and what you have to do for now,” she explained, already walking out of the room.
I had a perfect view of her bum, that could definitely use some squats, and her long light brown hair that hadn’t seen a hairdresser in ages.
Pushing my dark thoughts aside, I put on a smile and simply followed her, for once keeping my mouth shut.
On the way to wherever we were going, we passed the psychiatry track where my former psychologist had her room. From past experiences, I knew that it was right next to the nursling station.
Maybe it really was supposed to calm people down, but I only could imagine that screaming babies would upset some people further.
“Okay, here is a list of all the babies. You’ll find their names and birth dates in their cases as well, but this list helps you to see how much weight they have gained. Here are the-“ and on and on she went.
The task was simple and boring. I only had to check the body temperatures every hour and calm down the babies when they were crying.
After three hours, I got bored and was told I could take my break.
“Just go back to the room where I took you first. It’s the nurses’ room and you can take your break there or at the cafeteria,” Emily introduced me.
“See you in thirty minutes,” I said, smiling.
Once I exited the room with the mostly sleeping babies. I took a few deep breaths. So far, so good.
Emily had told me that I would meet some of the other nurses soon, and that work would be more fun. The best part, according to her, was still to come.
I didn’t doubt her words.
But I only started to completely believe her when I ran into Lana, the nurse that had gotten me into this job in the first place.
“Zoey, fancy seeing you here!” She beamed when I nearly ran her over, engulfing me in a warm embrace.
“Nice seeing you, too,” I told her, honestly happy to see a slightly familiar face. “I’m about to take my break now.”
“Good thing, me too. I had to help Mrs. Plotter out today and it was hectic and stressful and I just want to go back to the babies because they’re screaming and all but at least they’re not that annoying,” she rambled, linking our arms and tugging me into the direction of the nurses’ room.
“Mrs. Plotter is a nice woman, but her job would be an absolute nightmare for me,” I gagged, actually fearing some patients.
“It’s unpredictable, that’s what I like about it. But it can also be really hard,” Lana nodded along to my words.
“What kind of patients did she have today?” I asked, hesitating for a moment, “If you’re allowed to talk about it, that is.”
“Well, you’re not gonna call the paps, are you?” She laughed, sitting down at the table in the decent room. “Just a guy with depression and a woman who had far too many mental disorders for me to remember.”
“Sounds interesting,” I noted, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruits Lana was holding out for me.
“If you’re into psychology and all that stuff, yes.”
“I have absolutely no idea. I just think it’s interesting how some brains function differently from how we’re used to see them, you know?” I asked, even though I was certain my question made no sense.
“Not if you’re that woman. It was scary, to be honest. She seemed completely normal, you wouldn’t have guessed there was anything wrong with her.” Lana shuddered. “I don’t know, she seems odd. Mrs. Plotter is still talking to her but I excused myself.”
“I am totally gonna stalk her now,” I laughed, pushing the chair away and throwing the rest of my apple in the bin.
“Don’t get caught.” Lana waved a hand, dismissing me. It seemed as if she really couldn’t care less what I would do now.
Without another word, I exited the room and walked over to the psychiatry track and hid behind a corner where I had a clear view of Mrs. Plotter’s door.
“What even are you doing?” I asked myself. Now that I was talking to myself, I felt like I truly belonged in this track.
I had no idea how long I waited in the hallway, hidden from the door to the room that held too many memories I tried to avoid thinking of.
After counting to 257, I got tired and realized that my break would be over soon. There was no way I could wait any longer.
I made a mental note to ask Lana to check Mrs. Plotter’s schedule to see when that crazy woman would be coming back.
With that plan in mind, I took a tentative step forward, intending to go back to the nurses’ room.
But my plan was immediately crashed as Mrs. Plotter’s door suddenly swung open and two figures exited.
Gasping and in shock, I jumped two feet back and hid around the corner, only coming to my senses when I heard Mrs. Plotter’s soothing voice. “See you next week, my dear.”
I peaked around the corner, trying to catch a glimpse at the odd woman Lana had described, preparing to see a pretty normal lady that had no signs of her trip to Crazy Ville.
My eyes landed on a neon pink blazer that made me cringe, combined with black jeans and some kind of black flats that I couldn’t really identify from my position.
The woman’s hair was a pretty hazelnut brown shade and braided, the tail falling over her shoulder. The way she had turned her back to me didn’t reveal the length of her hair.
A faint memory came back to me, recalling the time I had walked past the half-opened door when I was here the last time with Lisa.
That was the time I had come up with the decision to be a nurse for newborns and children.
I barely recalled a woman sitting in the chair I had spent some time in all those months ago, after my traumatic experience.
The girl had long, wavy brown hair.
I eyed the woman who was still taking to Mrs. Plotter and especially paid attention to the way her hair fell over her shoulders. It was hard to say just how long and how wavy it really was, but one thing was for sure.
I recognized her.
And just as I made the connection, her voice rang over to me. “See you next week!”
There was no mistaking that nasal, annoying, ear-piercing, nauseating and horrendous voice.
Amelie.
“That fucking bitch,” I hissed, sending daggers at her back.
Just in time, she flipper her tail over her shoulders and walked down the hallway, unnecessarily swinging her hips like she was on the catwalk.
“You know her?” A voice suddenly spoke up behind me, making me jump in surprise.
I turned around and looked at Lana, who was nonchalantly munching on a chocolate bar. “Gosh, you scared me.”
“Sorry. Your stalker skills are nonexistent, by the way,” she laughed, her eyes wandering over my shoulder back to the scene of crime.
“I do know her,” I confirmed, looking back at Mrs. Plotter.
The older woman walked back into her room, but reappeared only a minute later, gently closing the door behind her and walking down the hallway in the direction Amelie had just disappeared.
“Where is she going?” I asked Lana, my eyes staying on the psychologist until she was out of sight.
“No idea,” she replied, pausing for a moment. “Why?”
I had no idea how much I could trust her, seeing that I didn’t really know her. For all I knew, she could either happily agree or run off to talk to Emily.
I had to take the risk, even though there was a high chance that it wouldn’t end well.
“Lana, this is going to sound crazy,” I started, biting my lip anxiously.
“Zoey…” She trailed off for a moment. “What the hell is on your mind?”
“You don’t want to know,” I mysteriously said.
There were a lot of things that could go wrong, but there was no way I could just let it go. I had to take the chance, there was no knowing when I would get another great opportunity like this again.
“Just say it,” Lana urged, raising her eyebrows at me. “And please don’t let it be what I think it is.”
“I need to get back in there and take a look at the woman’s medical file,” I explained.
Lana’s smile dropped. “It is what I think it is.”
“You don’t understand, it’s really important,” I pouted, hoping she would back me.
Her blue eyes scanned me warily, looking for any signs of distrust. I tried my best to appear trustworthy, hoping she would buy it.
“Why?” Her lips were set in a grim line, but she didn’t appear to be mad.
There was no time to tell her the whole story, so I kept it simple. “That woman ruined my relationship and I just want to know what mental disorders she has.”
“You didn’t study psychology, I don’t think you would understand it any way,” Lana pointed out, truthfully so.
“Please,” I begged, not having the strength to fight her any longer.
“Do you know in how much trouble you could get for breaking into Mrs. Plotter’s office and taking a look at medical files?” Lana questioned, putting her hands on her hips.
Was she trying to patronize me?
“Look, you don’t need to come inside, but can you just check the hallway and let me know when she comes back?” I half-requested, half-asked, hoping she would finally give in.
Time was running out and we were wasting it with arguing.
“I will yell ‘Damn, I forgot the file’ if I see something suspicious, alright?” She finally offered after pondering for a minute.
I nearly sank to the ground in relief. “Thank you, Lana. I owe you.”
She waved her hand at me. “Just hurry up.”
I had turned around before she even finished her words, already hurrying off to the familiar room. Fortunately, the door was unlocked.
Unfortunately, I had no idea in which shelf Mrs. Plotter kept the medical files.
Door after door was opened and closed again, until I finally stumbled over an awfully lot of files.
To my relief, there seemed to be some kind of system. It only took me a moment to find out what the old woman had been thinking about.
The first letter of the last name.
“Fuck,” I cursed. I had absolutely no idea what Amelie’s surname was. I tried to recall a memory of her telling me, but I just couldn’t remember anything.
There was also absolutely no time to ask Lana if she had heard the name. I had to look through all the files until I found something.
My eyes hurried over the last names, rather focusing on the initials of the first name that were provided as well.
Hewitt, A.
I grabbed the file, hoping it would be Amelie’s name I’d read.
Opening the heavy folder, my eyes landed on a man’s face. Alexander James Hewitt was written underneath.
I huffed, putting the file back and continuing my search. Many common surnames flashed in front of my eyes, and initials that could be any name from B-Z.
Kirkland, A.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the new file, hoping it was Amelie’s face that would greet me.
To my surprise, and complete relief, it was Amelie’s innocent eyes and signature long hair that framed the photo attached to the file.
Alicia Leola Kirkland.
I blinked at the name, utterly confused. Alicia?
Certain I was now imagining things, I was about to put the file back, but something about the picture caught my eye. There was no mistaking those features: it definitely was Amelie.
Or Alicia, I really wasn’t sure.
It somehow fitted her lying and attention-seeking character. By now, I was certain Harry and I were entangled in a web of lies.
I flipped through the file, desperately trying to find the section that listed the mental disorders Lana had been talking about.
My shaking fingers passed dates and dates of appointments, going back in years. I flipped back to the first page, trying to find the date of the first appointment.
August 21, 2009.
This has been going on for years. Amelie had always made a pretty normal impression on me.
A barely decipherable handwriting noted some key words under each date, but I was too impatient to read through them. I nearly let go of the file in my haste to find something that could give me a clue, but at one point, I was successful.
“I forgot my damn file,” I heard a female voice yell through the hallway, nearly sending me into cardiac arrest. I dismissed it, too busy with the file in my hands.
Mental disorders, Psychosis, Hypnagogic Hallucinations, Schizophrenia, Affective di-
“Zoey, my dear, what are you doing in my room?”
The voice behind me made me jump two feet in the air and I dropped the file in the process. I tried to come up with an excuse on the spot, but I hesitated for a second too long.
“I messed up some files and accidentally put one of your files into the children’s track. Emily told me to just put it back in your shelf if you weren’t in your room,” I said, anxiously biting my lip.
I put the file back in and closed the shelf, then turned around to finally look at Mrs. Plotter. She looked the same as I remember her from all those months ago, maybe with a few more crinkles by her eyes.
She smiled good-naturedly at me and nodded. “Thank you.”
“I have to keep going,” I gently apologized myself and half-sprinted out of the room, closing the door behind me.
Once I was round the corner, I took a few calming breaths, not really believing my luck right now. If she had suspected anything, she hadn’t let it show. My heart was still beating like a jungle drum, and I saw stars whenever I closed my eyes.
I pondered over my findings. All I had learned was that Amelie’s name was not Amelie, but Alicia, and that she had a whole string of mental disorders that I wasn’t even able to fully read.
Just as Lana had pointed out, I had no idea what any of them really meant. Of course, mental disorders like Schizophrenia and Hallucinations were easily thrown around, but that didn’t make any of us a psychologist.
My priority was taking a look into some psychology books and using the Internet to get to know those disorders for now.
And there was another thing I was absolutely certain of.
I had to warn Harry.
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