There was a short span of time, maybe a minute or two, which my eyes looked awkwardly around my new room in my attempt to not gawk at Mr. Jasper standing before me, eyeing me with skepticism.
In my mind there’s no doubt he is studying me trying to pinpoint different characteristics that he’s been pining over in my file as he tried to get to know me. The idea is comical at least. People who think they can get to know another human being by reading a stack of papers about them, clearly have no real world communication skills or experience. They really need their eyes opened, if you ask me.
Shifting on my heels as the seconds tick by in silence I finally look square at the statuesque blonde male who’s made himself at home, perched on the edge of my bed with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped in support of his chin. A strange feeling of being comfortable with this new roommate calms me enough to blow out a breath and open my mouth to voice a question, any kind of question to break the silence.
“What happened this morning?” Jasper’s voice was the one to break the silence, making me snap my mouth shut and turn my eyes on him with a furrow to my brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc.” The unease in the pit of my stomach that always tends to flair when I am uncertain of things around me was fully present.
With a nod of his head in the general direction of my cuffed hands, Jasper clarified the intention lying behind his question, “The cuffs, Leah. What happened this morning that sparked your parole officer, Sergeant Ateara to deem it necessary that you be restrained for transport?”
I gave a disgruntled huff combined with a shrug that was less than half-hearted. “Nothing happened. Honestly, my parole officer is just a little … Well, I don’t know the word, but I s’pose you could say I think he’s compensating. If you know what I mean.” Flashing a brilliantly sarcastic grin and a wink I couldn’t help but burst in to laughter when all he could do was shake his head and stand from his perched position.
Originally I thought it was Jasper’s way of responding to anything slightly uncomfortable, but when I saw him disappear through the door he had appeared from earlier before returning with a notepad and pen scribbling as he moved I frowned. What the hell could he be writing already? This isn’t a damn session, therefore there is nothing, and I do mean nothing noteworthy being said. With a few too-fast steps I closed the space to try peering over his shoulder anxiously. “What’s this about? What the hell could you write about me already?” There was no way of hiding the clipped tone in which my words came flying out of my mouth, completely lacking a filter.
“I am your counselor, Leah. You will have to grow accustomed to my constant writing as it is a vital part of my job in helping you.” The fact that he never even looked up from the pad as he spoke really was grating on my nerves.
“That wasn’t an answer to my question, Doc.” This time my tone was enough to cause him to look up from his writings. “What are you writing?”
With a slow, unthreatening gesture of his hand Jasper waved to the white paper of his portfolio folder in an invitation to read his scrawling. My eyes took in the words in the same time Jasper spoke them from memory, “Turns to the use of sarcasm when uncomfortable.”
My feet faltered, betraying the façade of being unaffected by how easily this man I’ve known for mere minutes can see straight through me, in their slight stumble backwards. Had my hands been free to move, they would have flown out wide at my sides to help center my balance before falling flat on my ass, but the cuffs prevented this possibility from happening. With a sharp intake of air I was shaking my head and doing my best to recompose myself, “You’re right, Doc. I am not uncomfortable with anything. I’ve got thick, impenetrable skin. Ain’t nothing going to get to me.”
Jasper took the entire portfolio, pen and all, and set it on top of the dresser then tucked his hands in to his pockets to cross the room. He was clearly taking his time in forming a response, but at least he isn’t writing more bullshit. Hiking the material of his jeans just a tad, he takes a seat on the edge of my bed again, this time lacing his fingers together to look like a steeple of a church in front of his mouth. As he spoke, the effort of carefully calculating exactly how his words come out is visible in his features. “Okay, Leah. I am relieved you are not uncomfortable. You see, the more comfortable you are with me, I find the easier our counseling sessions will be.” Jasper gave a warm and welcoming smile before he continued, “Tell me, what brought about the cuffs this morning? Do you feel they were necessary or an abuse of power over you?”
“It was absolutely an abuse of power of me!” The exclamation flew past my lips before I could process what they were. Just the fact he had taken the time to ask my opinion of how I was feeling made me feel like he was in my corner, and who the hell am I to buck anyone that voluntarily steps in to my corner? “I swear I didn’t do anything to warrant this, Jazz,” The random nickname that was thrown out caused one eyebrow to rise in question, but there was no interruption to my rant. “All I want to do was—”
“Run.” Quil’s voice broke in to room cutting off my words without permission. Spinning to my right I see him lock eyes on Jasper as if he were looking down on a lesser individual that dare have the audacity of breathing the same oxygen as he. “She had just been released from the body cuffs by a guard of the court, took one look at me as her parole officer, and she bolted for the door. She’s a proven flight risk, Doc.”
A growl rumbled in my chest, not loud enough to draw attention from either of the men, but enough that I could both feel and hear it, “You’re full of shit and you know it.”
“Now, Leah, as a court-appointed officer,”
“Counselor.” Quil interrupted Jasper making the correction that he felt imperative be made.
You could almost hear Jasper roll his eyes as he self-corrected per Quil’s help, “Of course, as I was saying, a court-appointed counselor, it is my duty to make decisions that are in everyone’s best interest. And if Sergeant Ateara here thinks you’re better off in restraints, I have a choice to make. Do I keep you restrained and keep you cuffed? Or do I simply sedate you?”
“No drugs, please.” I said quickly as my eyes moved between both men, first Jasper then to Quil, continuing to plead my case. “Please Quilly, you know me. No drugs, no cuffs. I’ll behave, play by your rules, and follow your directions without question…”
Just as it has always done before, Quil’s jaw muscle ticked when he was quite literally biting back some sort of pissed off comment. I watch that muscle tick over and over, feeling my chance at being allowed to be uncuffed slip further and further out of my reach. “You will call me Sergeant, Sarge, or Officer, Clearwater.” Tick. Tick. Tick go the jaw muscles. With a curt shake of his head to punctuate his final “No,” that has me so concentrated as my anger fumes from my ears, I am unaware of two things: Quil silently released the cuffs from my wrists; and Jasper rose from the bed and joined me at my side to have an unspoken conversation with Quil that I will never be privy to understand.
My own personal boiling point quickly hit as a result of Quil’s asshole ways. However, in the blink of an eye I went from sucking in a deep breath to go off and blast my damn parole officer to being whisked away down the stairs to the basement of the home, with Jasper talking beside me about having a one-on-one session in the one private room specifically designed for such. I wasn’t complaining, I mean any time away with him meant that I don’t have to deal with Quil acting as though he is my new God, who is to be prayed to.
Making my way down the hallway beside Jasper, my eyes fall upon the smoking woman from the porch earlier. The ghost, in my mind. Try as I might I still cannot place her face without an eerie haunting feeling. As we pass each other, our left wrist must have been swung wide at the same time and clipped each other. “Hey, you want to watch where you’re fucking walking?!”
I snapped and Jasper’s hand quickly came down on my shoulder to keep me moving right as the ghost barked back, “You want to fucking make me?” and balled her fists at her side. We both side-eyed each other as our forward momentum had halted. It was a scene similar to what might be seen in a movie where two felons face off and circle each other to make their presence known.
“Keep moving, Leah,” I felt a sharp finger jab in to my ribs as Jasper urged me forward to our destination which was plainly in sight.
“I will see you later then, Lee,” the ghost chimed out, breaking my concentration. The smirk and the wink that accompanied the tone stood my hair on end.
“Tonight.” It was a promise that was easily kept, given the living situation, and it brought a smirk of my own to toy at my lips. Another more forceful poke to my side and Jasper had me marching forward to the room where Sue stood waving us in side, meanwhile the ghost was being guided a bit more sternly by the young looking gentleman with her. “Hey, calm the poking, Doc.”
Jasper and I sat in the room, me taking the uncomfortable oversized chair that was obviously distinguished as being for the patients and him, sitting in the plush office chair across from me with hands folded over his portfolio once again, but I was distracted.
First and foremost, by the ghost from the hallway and secondly, by the desire to have a shower. That’s all I could think of, with great frequency, today. Jasper made several attempts to get me to start talking, even with as mindless questions as to ask what my favorite color is, my birth date, and about my family. There were a few things that I could robotically answer without having to devote any real brainpower to forming them, so I did.
Eventually though Jasper grew impatient with my lack of cooperation and he gave in to my incessant begging for a shower and a chance to get cleaned up before dinner. As we made our way back up to the room in which I will be staying he tried having one of those doctor and ever-grateful-patient moments. “You know, Leah, it will be a very long two years for you if you refuse to speak to me about anything of relevance. Seeing as today is your first day here, I will allow for you to get yourself acclimated to this living situation, but I won’t always be so forgiving. You must understand this, up front. I’ve expectations in place for our synchronized relationship. You cooperate and I bother you less with these sessions.” Just to emphasize the point Jasper was trying to make, I gave a very cooperative grunt as my only reply.
My mind was racing a million miles a minute trying to sort through all of the events of the day as the hot water of the shower poured over me. It was one thing that I never grew out of from the time I was a young child until now. My brain happens to fire to life when my head is submerged in water. Whether it is a swimming pool, the ocean, a heavy rainfall, a filled bathtub, or a shower stream, my brain comes to life allowing my best thinking to take place. Perhaps it would be beneficial to Jasper’s work if I suggest moving our counseling sessions to the shower that could make things much more fruitful.
One of the most present things on my mind is the face of the ghost woman. I had first seen her on the porch when Quil pulled the car in to the driveway and there was something familiar there, it was both in her face and in the way she smoked her cigarette, but I couldn’t figure it out. Then there was the moment down in the hallway while on my way to what should have been a counseling session; the familiarity was there again. Lifting my hands to comb my fingers through my wet hair and the small tattoo on the inside of my left wrist catches my eye and my brain is flooded with the exact memory it had been searching for.
It had been weeks in the mental hospital since I’d tried taking my own life and in those weeks I had formed close ties to two other girls in somewhat like circumstances - one stronger than the other. After yet another night on the roof of the building, under the watchful eye of one of the male nurses to ensure we didn’t pitch ourselves over the edge, the one with whom I was closer, Bells, and I returned back to her room and made a pact with each other. “Though there may come times when we are alone, we will never be singular.” She spoke as she tattooed my wrist with a simple design ‘III’. We had stolen a pen from the male nurse and Bells took a syringe needle from the ‘vampires’ that come around to check our blood levels once a week. “We won’t let the world own us. No matter what, there will always be us. We have each other.” As soon as mine was finished, I copied the design on the inside of her wrist, permanently branding us to each other, regardless of where the roads may lead us. ‘III’ was for the third wing of the hospital where they branded the ‘High Risk’ and ‘Criminally Insane’ lot of us.
Fast forward a month down the road to just days after my Bells is released from the hospital, by some fluke where she knew the judge that was reevaluating her case. I was however remaining and on a downward spiral in my lonesome once more. The nurses had pumped a factory’s worth of drugs in to my system in their attempt to control my erratic behaviors and mood swings. I stumbled my barely lucid self into the hallway thanks to the distracted nurse underestimating my tolerance, I left my confinement room, I find a wheelchair and flopped in to it. Propping my head against the wall, as it is far too heavy to support on my own I hear the nurses at the nearby station speak in hushed tones of the former patient, ‘one of ‘The Three’, who had been released just days earlier that was found dangling from the stairway banister in her home this morning…
Though I had never seen Bells’ hang self, the image of such was one engrained in my mind as clearly as it would be had I witnessed it as it happened. Shaking my head to literally try and shake off the image burning holes in my corneas I pressed the butts of my hands in to my eye sockets I begin repeating the protesting “No” in a quiet, robotic chant, the pain of it all feeling so fresh and raw could eat me away if I allowed it.
Lost to my own world trying to escape the memories, I never heard the bathroom door open and close, or the entrance of someone coming in to the small room. When I managed to bring myself back in to the present and reach for my toiletries bag to retrieve a razor I was hoping had been provided for grooming purpose, I jumped feeling a large hand close around my wrist gently in a warning.
“Jesus Christ! What are you doing in here?” Grabbing the towel from the bar where it hung, I haphazardly wrapped it around myself as I remained under the spray of the water. Sure I have spent the past eighteen months showering with a cloven of other women in one mass room, but that was different.
“Sorry Leah, I was sent in by the doc to keep watch and monitor.” Quil’s voice was very businesslike and to the point, no sarcasm or attitude detectable in it.
“Fine, can you at least … turn away while I finish?” I know it is a long shot and more likely than not going to be denied, but it is worth a try.
“No can do.” Quil nodded his head in a motion that was very obviously a command to carry on and finish up then leaned back against the edge of the counter, allowing me the most amount of privacy he can. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to deal with me all the time, Leah. I’m only here today because it’s transfer day. You being my charge means I am responsible for ensuring you are in a good place. You show me that you can handle your shit, and I’ll be gone after tonight.”
“I have been handling myself, Sarge.” The tone I laced in to his demanded address was evident even to a deaf man. With him standing in the room awaiting my departure from what was the sanctuary of my shower, I take my take standing in the water that has now turned frigid.
“You have, remarkably. All things considered,” I almost wanted to reach out and clear the surprise right out of his tone with a right hook to his trachea, but I kept to myself and silently shivered. “Listen, Jasper had to go file a few things quickly. Your release was earlier than Sue and the staff were fully prepared, otherwise it would be he that monitors your showers until it is determined you can do so independently, and safely.” Babysitters while I shower now, too? That was the icing on the metaphorical cake. There was a brief pause before Quil continued in a more stern, matter-of-fact voice, “Finish up. Group session begins in nineteen minutes.”
“Right, your eagerness to drop me here and ditch my ass from under your guard was too rushed and upset the flow of The Home’s schedule. Fine, whatever.” The agitation in my voice was more for my own good of trying to make myself feel better, than it was to snip at him, but it served both nicely. “I’m coming out. You mind handing me a new, dry towel?”
“Sure thing,” Quil uttered as I saw him turn his back to gather a towel from the linen closet on the other side of the sink. Extending the stark white material with a professional and routine demeanor he held the towel open as a shield of sorts that I could step right in to.
Dropping the soaked towel at my feet to the shower floor I quickly stepped out and in to the new towel making quick work of taking it from Quil’s grasp and wrapping it around me.
“Thanks.” Stepping around the sort of roadblock his large frame creates in this cramped space, I maneuvered my way out of the bathroom and left him behind me as my damp feet pad across the light wooden floor of my bedroom. The idea of being able to wear my own clothes for the first time in too long increased the pace of my steps. As I come to a stop at the foot of my bed I drag my hand over the curved edge of my duffel bag someone had prepared for me. Who? I have no idea, but someone that knows me well enough to pack the exact items I would have chosen for myself. A soft smile ghosts over my lips as I slowly pull back the zipper of the bag and reach in to pull out a comfortable, loose-fit tank top.
“You’re not going to like this.” Was the only warning I am granted before Quil came up behind me, immediately taking hold of my right ankle.
“What the hell! What are you…?” I tried my best to kick my leg free from his hold, having no idea what he was trying to do and frankly, not caring what it was either. I’m standing here naked in nothing but a damp, nearly translucent towel and the water beads still clinging to my body from my shower, and Quil seems to think this is the more opportune time to touch me? Oh God. “Get off of me. GET OFF! Help! SOMEONE HELP!”
My cries for help were the final straw to Quil’s professional attitude. In his frustration at the fight I was trying to put up, he had trapped me between him and the wall using his hips to pin me from going anywhere, one of his legs firmly braced against the wall between mine preventing me from simply sliding down the wall to escape that way and his hands gripping my upper arms with enough force to mark my skin for days.
Balling my fists, no longer caring about keeping the towel between us and letting it pool on the ground, I use all my strength to beat against his chest, still trying to kick my way free but getting nowhere. In a lightning fast movement, Quil’s hands went from holding my arms to pressing one largely muscled forearm across my chest to pin me down while his other hand roughly clasped over my mouth to muffle my screams. “Calm the fuck down, Leah. Quit your damn screaming, woman!”
Another several attempts at muffled screams later I did the last thing my brain could think to do. Hesitating for a second, I convince myself it is my best chance at getting away from this psychotic man who no longer resembles my former best friend. I take a deep breath and bite down hard on the flesh of one of his fingers.
The yell that rumbled all the way up from deep in his chest was the only response, besides the feeling that his arm against my chest might be tighter now. A fraction of a minute later, I blinked, shocked to be completely free from Quil’s entrapment and see him pulled back by Jasper and another man I have only seen on the porch with the ghost woman upon my arrival.
Frantically trying to grab up my towel from the floor at my feet and flee I am caught off guard when two strong arms wrap me up, for the third time today, and hold me in a restraint that utilizes my own arms to bear hug myself as the man leans back far enough to take my feet off balance. Why the hell was I the one being restrained when he was the one that attacked me? Sue stands before me with her hands up, cooing at me to calm down in a very motherly way. The only flaw in her armor giving way to her discomfort being her sideways glance and nod at one of the men I don’t know. “GET HIM OUT OF HERE! I CAN’T … NOT HIM!” Screaming for Quil’s removal, my legs kick and flail in what can only be described as an uncoordinated running man type of motion. Suddenly one of the arms around me is gone and I am able to break free just before there is a sharp pinch in the back of my shoulder, right where my shoulder and neck meet.
In the amount of time it takes for the pain of the pinch to subside to just a memory, my entire body feels weighted down with heavy lead and time begins to stand still, my eyes focusing just past Sue’s slowly relaxing face to find the horrified look on the ghost woman’s face where she stands unmoving in the doorway of my room. Blinking slowly and with some effort, my force my eyes to refocus on the face each time they start to blur out on their own accord. Taking one clumsy, yet free, step forward I feel my world shift with only one constant, the ghost face.
“It is Bells…” my words slip out nearly incoherent as the lightly colored wood grain of the floor quickly closes in on my face and disappear in to the cold blackness.
Slowly, the muttering and ramblings in my head start to take shape and form in the voices I recognize to be Jasper, Sue, and Quil. There’s not a single part of me, except my ears, that is willing to cooperate with my idea of moving: My muscles? No, too heavy and tired to even twitch to life. My eyelids? Fuck that. Weighted down with concrete blocks; But my ears? Those tune in as best they can to the bickering happening somewhere in the near vicinity.
“I thought you said she was stable for transfer, Sergeant Ateara.”
“If I may, Sue, from the conversations I have been able to have with her this afternoon and evening, she is stable with the exception of when faced with her parole officer.”
“What exactly are you implying, Doc? That I’m the reason for her behaviors?”
“Gentlemen, arguing is very unbecoming of two professionals, especially if I have specifically chosen them to be able to work with this house and its residence. Let us put aside differences in order to help this girl. Now, I have a group session I need to go dismiss for the evening so that I can available here. I seriously doubt she is going to want either of you near her when she comes to. No killing each other in my absence, I do not want that kind of paperwork on my plate as well.”
“Of course, Sue. As for you Sergeant, I am not implying anything; however, what you have inferred from the words I have spoken leads me to believe you may be dealing with a guilty conscience for exactly that reason.”
“Bull Shit, Whitlock. I am doing my job, textbook. Shall we talk about textbook work? Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I can assure you that I do, Sergeant. Why do you ask?”
“Then why the hell hasn’t she woken up yet? I’ve seen Ativan in effect in people before. Leah’s been out for too long …”
“She has only been asleep little more than one hour, Sir.”
“Eighty-three minutes.”
The voices continue going back and forth drifting rapidly back in to the haze of darkness that pulled me under earlier. Without any ability to fight against the drug’s gravitational pull, I am sucked deep in to the quiet of the black.
At least it’s quiet here.
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