Silence.
“How have you been doing, Miss Jett?”
I grabbed my fork and moved the macaroni around. “Well, I suppose.” I relaxed a little. His voice didn’t indicate trouble. Maybe this was only a talk—a conversation to check to see how I’ve been coping.
“Having some headway with your therapy sessions?”
“Yes, sir,” I lied—well, partly. I’d gained headway with my Ollie therapy.
“I called you in here because … in the first month so far you’ve spent a weekend in the nurse’s station, broken your hand, destroyed a bathroom, and visited solitary confinement. I’m not sure this place is suitable for your havoc, Miss Jett, and I cannot put other’s lives in jeopardy.”
The abandonment was apparent across his face. He was removing me from the program, and the voice in my head said things like, “Good, get me out of here,” and “Finally, please … ship me back to the States,” and “I don’t care.” But the pounding in my ears, the cold sweat building across my skin, and the stinging behind my eyes reminded me of my body’s betrayal. The truth was, I was scared to wake up in a life without Ollie. I was terrified of my mental habit to push his existence, and our moments together, down, and pretend like none of it had ever happened because I knew from experience it was the only way I knew how to cope.
No. I needed to stay with Ollie.
All the air in my lungs had been replaced with water as I slowly drowned inside. A fog blurred my vision, and I shook my head. “What … what are you saying?” My voice ruptured.
Lynch dropped his chin and folded his hands over his desk. “You’re being transferred to Building B, Mia …” He let out an exhale. “You’re being transferred to our psychiatric division.”
An extended moment of silence induced Lynch to shuffle around his desk and type a few strokes across his keyboard. If I opened my mouth, I would regret the things I would say. If I lashed out, he might have me leave the campus entirely. Biting my tongue, I crossed my arms and dug my nails into my elbows to prevent myself from doing something I ordinarily would do. A victim and a monster, fighting a war inside my head.
“Stanley will take you back to your dorm to pack your things. They will be expecting you.” He stood from his chair and leaned over his desk. “Mia, this is your last chance. One screw-up, you’ll be forced to leave permanently.”
Stanley stood outside my dorm room as I shoved my belongings into my suitcase. “You won’t be seeing those items for a long time. They will be processed and placed in the basement,” Stanley mumbled. “They’ll give you new clothes and a toothbrush on the other side.”
The moment I closed and zipped my suitcase, I felt myself slipping. Shaking my head, I focused on Ollie’s green eyes, his words, his smile, anything to keep me from tripping over the edge into darkness. I wanted to throw my suitcase into the wall. I wanted to throw my casted fist into the cement,again. I wanted to escape my body and shake myself because I was slipping. I could never feel it before, but now it was unmistakable. It was happening; one by one, my mind turned out the lights in a home with a dozen rooms, getting darker and darker by the minute.
“Ready?” Stanley asked, and I turned away from my old prison before I made my way to the next.
The dinner rush moved sluggishly down the hall, retreating to their dorms. Standing beside Stanley, I waited as he did a once-over of my room before closing and locking the door. With my suitcase in hand, Stanley and I turned toward the crowd.
And then my eyes settled on Ollie. His raspy laugh echoed through the hall with Jake and Isaac at his side, coming in my direction. I closed my eyes as I buried his laugh into my memory, afraid I would never hear it again.
Jake noticed me first, and stopped suddenly. Ollie followed Jake’s gaze as his pace slowed. Ollie’s eyes darted between me, Stanley, and the suitcase in my hand when the color drained from his face. He slowly shook his head as he clenched his jaw.
“Let’s go, Mia,” I think Stanley said, but I couldn’t move as Ollie detonated before my eyes.
Ollie took off in a sprint toward us and, in a matter of seconds, had Stanley shoved against the wall. “Where are you taking her? What’s going on?” Ollie demanded, desperate questions flying through the thick air.
“Back off, Masters. You don’t want to do this,” Stanley said, pushing Ollie’s hands away.
Ollie’s face was pale. His once beautiful green eyes now strung out as he pushed Stanley again in the chest. “Where the fuck are you taking her!” he shouted, his face only inches away from Stanley. I’d never seen this side of Ollie before, but it was a look so familiar and a place I had been many times before. It was myself in him.
Anger mixed with fear—the perfect concoction to eradicate even the strongest.
“I’m warning you to back off,” Stanley said calmly but sternly as he reached for the radio latched to his belt.
Ollie turned to me and searched my face as Isaac pulled him in the opposite direction. “Let her go, mate! It’s over! You got to let her go,” Isaac repeated, but this only infuriated Ollie more.
With tunnel vision, Ollie shoved Isaac off him, his force sending Isaac across the marble, and pushed passed Stanley, clearing everything in his path between him and me. He held my head and studied my face. “Talk to me, are you okay? Where are they taking you?” Ollie asked, urgency in his eyes, but his voice cracked through each word. “Answer me, Mia.”
“Psych ward.” I shook my head in his hands. “I’m not coming back, Ollie … I’m so sorry.”
Ollie’s eyes glossed over right before Stanley ripped him away from me and slammed him against the wall. A pain entered my chest as I stood frozen. All I could do was watch Ollie crumble before my eyes, and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. My mind slowly shut down as my heart pounded hard against my ribcage. The ringing in my ears competed against the loud thumping in my head.
Stanley attempted to zip-tie Ollie’s wrist behind his back as Ollie struggled against him, but Stanley was stronger. He slammed Ollie once more against the wall, this time applying the pressure of his forearm to the back of Ollie’s head, pressing his face against the cold cement. Stanley whispered inaudible comments in Ollie’s ear, triggering Ollie to stop struggling.
Ollie turned his head to face me with water in his eyes and red in his cheeks. His green eyes grew more beautiful when everything else had failed him.Heneeded me.
