I had nothing against this man. He was nice, in fact. I just didn’t want to speak, not about this, not about anything. The last person I spoke to about my thoughts and feelings was dead, and I killed him.
I was so tired of the exercises, videos, and one-sided discussions. I merely wanted to be left alone. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t move to wipe it away. My tears weren’t for Malcolm. They were for Gracie.
I missed her so much.
“You can talk to me. Why don’t you try? You’ll never know until you do. There is no judgment here. It’s a safe place.”
I said nothing.Safe.How odd he’d use a word like that. I am anything but safe, and as for the truth, this man couldn’t handle the things I had to say.
“Your family, your daughter, they need to know, Alyssa. Don’t you want them to know why?” He sighed, pen tapping on the notepad in his lap. We’d been through this every day for months now, and still, he wouldn’t relent. If anything, he grew more determined.
“There is freedom in sharing the burden you’ve been carrying around.”
For the first time in the months he’d been treating me, I looked at him. Really looked at him.
Iwasfree. There were no chains holding me. It’s what he didn’t understand. I sneered at him the way I usually did whenever I wanted to avert his questions. He leaned forward in his chair and ran his hands through his too-long hair in frustration. At least he was good to look at. I could have fallen for a man like this with a face that looked like it’d been chiseled by the gods—his soft, kind, and pretty hazel eyes, day-old stubble, and full lips.
But he’d turn out to be like the rest of them given time, wouldn’t he? A liar, a deceiver.
I wanted to run away from this room and find a dark hole I could creep into and be alone with my thoughts. I was tired of questions I couldn’t answer. Was my confession not enough? I could almost hear Malcolm mocking me from his grave.
You will never win, Lissy. Never.
No. I’d won,I reminded myself. It was over. Nobody could get to us.Nobody.
“Our time is nearly up.” He turned my chair toward him. I didn’t need to look at him directly to know his full attention was on me. I stared at the lint on his gray tweed jacket instead. “I’m not going away, you know, and I’m not your enemy. Just think about that.”
I stood when a nurse arrived for me, and I let her take me by my hand, leading me toward the door like an invalid, but not before I glimpsed Dr. Greene’s worried eyes as we passed by him. He had no idea. Everyone had assumptions about what did or didn’t happen that night, their own versions of my story, and this doctor was just like everyone else. He smiled at me sympathetically, and I looked away.
The nurse led me down the corridor, where the patients we passed looked as if they would slit my throat the first chance they got, and I didn’t doubt for a second, they would.
One woman stepped in front of me and screamed in my face, spittle spraying on me. I wiped it off. Patricia was well known in this place. She was sort of the ringleader. A bully who thought she had a right to push everyone else around. She’s in a fucking psychiatric facility. Nobody’s coming out on top here, sweetheart.
“You’re going to disappear soon, princess,” she taunted.
I didn’t flinch, holding her gaze. Nothing surprised me anymore, not in here.
She stepped away sneering, her short hair like spikes on her head, her form large and intimidating to most, didn’t bother me. A year ago, I would have run and hidden from someone like that. Now, I just stared at her hard. I wondered about my lack of concern at times, but then I realized the world could not break an already broken woman.
Fort Hill was a semi-state facility nestled in rolling green hills. It was far enough from the main cities and highways to ensure the safety of the people in those towns. Being a semi-state facility meant almost all the patients here, sixty percent at least, were criminals—from murderers, rapists, pedophiles to psychopaths.
Criminals like me,I reminded myself. Criminals who were too fucked in the head to be released to state prisons or anywhere else for that matter. They threw us into this hole, forgot we existed, and hoped we never clawed our way out of it.
When I entered my room, I breathed a sigh of relief, looking through the small glass window on the door to make sure that bitch Patricia hadn’t followed me. These four walls were my refuge, the place I felt safest. I sat on my bed, which was bolted to the ground, as was the chair next to it, and stared out the window.
When the nurse left, I walked over and made a dent on the window pane with my nail, looking out at the greenery surrounding the area through the reinforced glass. Bars secured it, but any glimpse of the world outside was better than nothing.
The nurse returned, and she cautiously approached me, wrapping a band around my arm and pulling it tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her eyes kind, unlike the other ones. She must be new.
“I’m Nurse Jones. I am here to administer your medication. I’ll be done in a bit.”
I nodded and shut my eyes. A small prick and then pressure as she injected that godawful medication that made my eyes heavy and my mind foggy. I didn’t want to watch them do it.
It was a welcome feeling.
It chased away the darkness in my mind.
