Une Fleure Fanée

Week 5 Part 3 (Tuesday and Wednesday)

     I'm dancing. It's the group dance Haka. I'm doing the penché part in the studio. I don't point it and I fall on the black floor. Ms. Abby starts to yell at me. It's deafening. All the dancers start to look at me as I cover my ears, wincing in pain as I realize covering my ears does nothing to dampen the sound. I start making my way to the door. It's unlocked. I run out to the dancer's den. But the second I put my foot on the gray carpet, it shifts.

     There's white tile, embellished with tiny multi-colored dashes spaced randomly throughout the tile. I look at my clothes. It was an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants without drawstrings that I overgrew about a year ago. In the plastic mirror, my hair's matted, not able to bring any hair products for fear of suicide attempts. The walls are painted the familiar sickening blue that my room was painted when I was in the inpatient unit.

     I'm back in the inpatient unit.

     "Lilliana," I hear behind me, instantly recognizing the horrible voice that sounds like the devil.

     It's the nurse that tortured me. Nurse Charlotte. I mean, she didn't lay a finger on me in any harmful way, but she purposely called me Lilliana whenever possible, even when I corrected her to call me Lilly. She also demeaned me and called me fat.

     "Time for your weigh-in sweetheart," Nurse Charlotte sickeningly states, grasping my arm lightly.

     I'm dragged into the hallway, sobbing in tears. I want to get out of here. I beg and plead with her to let me go, that I am fully capable of walking on my own. She ignores me, so I bend backward in half, forcing me out of her grip. I quickly bend back up and walk behind her to the weigh-in room.

     We take a wrong turn. I remember... it's on the left. So why did we turn right? I tap on her arm and point to the left hallway, too afraid to speak.

     "I know, Lilliana. We're taking you to someplace special today," Nurse Charlotte tells me, chuckling throughout the whole sentence.

     This isn't safe. I start booking it towards the main area. I grasp for the door, pulling it, and run up to another nurse. Her badge says, Jeniffer. She bends down to my level and I try to speak, but I can't find my words. I see a shadow of someone behind me. Then all I see is black.

     I open my eyes as soon as they have closed but I'm in a white room. It's padded, just like the movies. My hair is tied back. I'm wearing some itchy white pants. I go to scratch my leg. But my arms can't move. I'm wearing a straightjacket. I begin to panic.

     Banging on the door with my feet, I start yelling, "Help! Help! Help! Please! Please. Help..."

~~~~~

     "Lilly! Lilly! Wake up! Lilly!" I hear, the comforter covering me rustling like it was being shaken.

     I sit up quickly, terrified, tremoring intensely as tears start to stream down my face. I haven't had one of these in months. It's like a nightmare, but it is a lot worse. A lot worse.

     "Drink some water," Mom persuades me softly, handing me a cup of water.

     I chug it, my salty tears mixing with the water. I curl up against the headboard of my bed, bringing my head to my knees, sobbing loudly. Mom sits next to me and brings me into her lap. You wimp, Lilliana. You deserved to be in that straight jacket. You're not normal. You'll never be normal.

     I rest my head onto her shoulder as I beg quietly, "Don't lock me up in the white room again, please. I don't want to go back."

     "No, no, no, sweetheart. I won't lock you up and you're not going back. You're alright. I know it was scary, and it was wrong, but you're safe now," Mom comforts me, rubbing my back gently.