Twisted Dreams

Chapter 11

I stumble behind Amelia as she guides me to eat. We arrive, and I see the "dining room" Dr. Barnabus referred to. "Dining room" is too pleasant a term to associate with the room in front of me though.

People in matching loose brown clothing - patients, I mentally correct - are spread out and sitting at dingy wooden tables around the room in no apparent order. The concrete floor is covered in crumbs and a variety of stains of crusty old food.

Around the edge of the room, I note a couple guards - caretakers - conveniently blocking any exits. Their purpose is largely unnecessary because I would be willing to bet that the doors behind them were locked to prohibit any one from leaving.

I notice something strange as I take a second glance around the room.

"They're all women, every single one of them..." I trailed off. With the exception of the male caretakers, the room was filled with entirely women, all sporting matching drab gowns and downtrodden faces.

"Yes, Whitcomb's is an all-female mental hospital in order to prevent any," she hesitated, "accidents" she said with emphasis on the word, her hand stilling on her round belly.

I hold my tongue, processing this new information, and allow Amelia to guide me to the food servers.

I received a plate and a small helping of something I can only describe as -

"Glop," she chuckled with no humor, "it's the sound that it makes as it lands on the plate. We've asked and asked, but none of the servers will tell us what it is."

I stared at the gray congealed substance on my plate with clear distaste as we sat to eat.

"It's not that bad," Amelia assured, appearing to convince herself more than me, "besides, you'll get hungry enough to where you'll be craving this stuff."

"Great." I joked, poking the matter and watching as it bounced back to resume it's former form with little trouble. My pale face confirmed that she was doing little to aid in my fears of this new place.

"I'm sorry, I'm not doing very good at this comforting thing, am I?" Amelia asked, her thin eyebrows furrowed over her big eyes.

"No no!" I assured, wondering how I became the comforter, "I - this is a lot to process... I'm going to need some time to take it in."

"Right, of course!" she breathed, "It's still your first day."

"Yes... I'm curious, how long have you been here Amelia?"

Her fork stills in her glop, giving the ironic impression of an Arthurian fork trapped within the confines of a squishy rock.

"That's a difficult question," she responded with a strained laugh. "Continuously? I have only been here for three months. However, this is not my first time being here."

My confused look must have been enough to prompt her elaboration as she responded, "I was sent here the first time about a year and a half ago when I was pregnant with my first child. I was able to return back to my home after... after I gave birth. I was sent here again three months into my second pregnancy."

I take a moment to calm my racing thoughts.

"Who is the father?" I asked, glancing quickly at her left hand to note the absence of a wedding ring.

"Um.." she stumbled, clearing her throat loudly, "It's complicated."

Hearing her discomfort, I noted that this conversation would have to remain unfinished for the time being. I took the following beats of uncomfortable silence to study her in a new light. This was a girl that can't have been older than 17 already half-way through her second pregnancy and a second stay within an asylum. I searched for visible signs of resiliency, perhaps a stronger set to the jaw or a hardness to the eyes, but gave up after a minute or two. All that could be found was a soft face with gentle probing eyes, currently focused on the of her glop. My heart panged as I was reminded once more of my younger sister, Elsie, and I yearned to secrets that haunted those words left unspoken.

    "I understand," I responded with that well-worn refrain that always feels too ingenuine for the circumstances. Yet, as Amelia directed that all-knowing gaze to me once more, I had the sense that she understood the words that remained unspoken in my response as she breathed, "Thank you."

    We continued to eat our glop quietly (Amelia eating and myself prodding), in a silence that is comfortable in itself as it knows the absurdity of the addition of small-talk. As we sat together in that crowded sea of brown, my mind began to wonder to those last moments with Richard and my Father - could that really have been my Father, so cruel and unyielding?. My miserable recollections were put to a halt at the sight of a pale wrist extending itself in my frame of view.

    "Are you going to eat or just play with your food, Vee?" Dr. Barnabas asked as he pried the fork from my hand. "The food Whitcomb's provides you is a part of your treatment process. It has been reduced to the basest nutritional content to ensure that you and all these other lovely ladies are getting all the nutrients they need without any of that added nonsense. The food like all things at Whitcomb are a part of a behavioral re-program. Women should be grateful to receive the things they need, and not asking for unnecessary things they may believe that they want. For a patient with a background such as yourself, this behavioral re-programming may appear extreme, but the conclusion of this program should help you realize it does not matter at all what you think so long as you behave."

    On this last word, he speared the fork straight into the center of the glob leaving the substance shaking in small tremors that mirrored my own.

    "Do I make myself clear?" He asked with a pointed look from the glop to myself.

    "Crystal."

    "Good," he returned, with a one of his signature tight smiles. "Your eating habits are not the sole reason I have come to you just this now. Dr. Leonardo Wright has arrived, and he is ready to see you now. I will have one of my assistants escort you to his office. I hope you find your treatment plan to your liking, and if not, remember that it never truly mattered what you thought to begin with! Goodbye, Vee. It was wonderful talking with you."
   

    I'm back guys!! Woo hoo! I graduate college in less than two weeks. I plan to finish this book during this summer. Wish me luck! I will take any suggestions if anyone has any. As well, I love hearing technical feedback, so don't be shy!