The Ghost of Our Past (ON HOLD)

Breakthrough

Here she was again. Kiera silently counted the water stains which blossomed on the ceiling. Every time it was thirteen. Her lucky number. The air smelt of musty books and heavy perfume which hurt Kiera’s nostrils whenever she sniffed hard.  Like the last visit, the psychiatrist sat opposite her with her usual clipboard and pen as Kiera lay down. Perhaps after their ‘breakthrough’, she decided that this was the most comfortable setting for Kiera. 

“Kiera, I think we know why we’re here today.” The lady’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Kiera kept her mouth closed. There was nothing to be said but to the psychiatrist, Kiera had to explain what had come over her the day before. She had to ‘open up’ and ‘express her emotions’.

“I saw someone pulling out flowers,” Kiera said softly. “It was horrible.” The lady leaned forward, her tight skirt pulling further up her thighs. Her face lit up with excitement. Kiera shifted away.

“I don’t want to see anything like that again,” she continued in a louder voice, hoping the lady will lean back again. She did not. Her hand twitched, torn between writing notes and losing Kiera’s interest. “I want to change to another institution.”

At that, the lady’s hand stopped twitching and she leaned back. Her enthusiasm evaporated and her attentive face was replaced with a stern expression. “That’s not possible. If seeing plants being up-rooted causes you such distress, we can fill your schedule with tasks in which you can avoid seeing anything like that anymore. That much we can do.”

Kiera felt the quiet anger simmering in her. “But I don’t want to stay here.”

“Kiera, this is for your own good.”

“If you care for my well-being, do what I want!” Kiera snarled, resentful at the tone the lady had used. Like trying to placate a whiny toddler without giving in. The lady held a hand to her mouth, stunned.

“Don’t speak to me like that! Know where you belong,” she replied, quickly recovering her wits. Each word was purposely injected with spite and malice. “What makes you think you have power here? Just because we allow you to go wherever you want and turn a blind eye when you don’t take your pills doesn’t mean you tell me what to do. Anyway, I won’t let you go because you are the only special case w-”

Kiera’s eyes were already wide at the change of the lady who towered over her, spitting every word menacingly. She used her elbows to push herself up. “The only special case what?” She asked in a low voice. The lady turned her back to Kiera and rubbed her left wrist, tensed.

“You will be assigned to kitchen duty. Mr Rye, one of the cooks will be in charge of you.” The answer came swiftly, formed in a detached and professional voice. Kiera went forward, hands clenched together.

“Tell me-”

The lady quickly raised her voice, calling for the male nurses who hung in front of her office. Two of them stormed into the room and grasped Kiera’s arms tightly, then proceeded to lift her to her room. Kiera pedalled the air, shouting, “The only special case what, lady? What you gonna say? What?” Less-experienced nurses and attendants gaped and flatten themselves on the gloomy blue corridor wall as Kiera was carried passed them. “You’ve never seen a loony before?” She shrieked at a mousy-looking nurse who was visibly shaken.  Kiera couldn’t care less for them.

***

he kitchen was bustling like it has the first time Kiera walked in a week ago. The air was thick and warm, smelling of burnt onions and sardines. Ladles clanged against pots, loud hissing and white smoke billowed from a frying pan as the cook added water and the never-ending orders, orders, orders. Nevertheless, Kiera took comfort in the cacophony of voices and cooking. It made her feel invisible and -sometimes when she drifts off- almost normal.