“Life is a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors” -Eugene O’Neill
“Miss Burton, can you hear me?”
They talk to me as if I were important, as if it mattered at all if I looked them in the eye and held a conversation with them.
The smell of electricity and metal colliding in the room creates an odor like hot irons on burning hair. The stench is palpable. The color of cold steel grays against the antiseptic whites doesn’t do much to keep me interested. Though, it does have a strange attraction for the mind’s eye. The room awash in vagueness does wonders for my imagination.
Sure, I can hear you. I can hear your pathetic emphatic inquiries for some sign of acknowledgment. You aren’t going to get it from me, no one’s home, asshole.
She comes closer; I begin to sense movement as her hips brush against me. I can taste the blood, like copper, that seems to emanate from her. She smells of the season that marks her days in cyclical obscenity. It’s funny how incredibly heightened your sense of smell becomes after…
“That’s all for today.” I can hear the ringing of self-importance in his voice. “Let’s get her back up to her room and I’ll write an order to up the dosage of Lithium and add the Seroquel; we’ll see how she responds to the ECT’s after she wakes up.”
How I respond? I don’t respond, you dumb ass, or haven’t you been paying attention? Electro-shock? Compared to what I’ve been through? This is just a brain massage! Call it what you will, but it cannot hold a candle to reality shock.
Settle down, dear. You know how worked up you get after a session.
She always has that calming affect. Her voice is a hushed graceful cradling embrace and I feel so small inside.
As far back as I can remember she has been there – just for me; soothing the burns seared into my memory, kissing away the pain, making it all okay again.
I can’t remember her name. But, I could never forget that voice. Did I ever know her name?
Shhh, baby. Close your eyes and forget the monsters. I am here, sweet baby girl. I will not let them hurt you; just sleep.
Sleep. That’s what I need to do, sleep… take her hand and walk with her to the other side… where I can rest my mind in her soft warm lap and listen to the whispers while she gently lifts my hair away from my face with her graceful fingers… always there for me, after... I knew when it got real bad, she would make the pain go away, make it alright again; keep me safe, for awhile. Safe…For a while.