Misery || Wolverine

Part 2

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

1985

Five years had passed, and I had grown up in the asylum. Celebrated five pathetic birthdays. I watched five pathetic years go by, surrounded by the same white walls, different scenery, different room. I can't say it was all bad of course. Within these five years I learnt to control my mind. I focused on certain people, hearing what they could think. Of course it would be the up most random things, but it worked. Slowly over time, my mind had gone quiet and I could specifically choose who I want to hear. Neat, isn't it?

I found meditation to surprisingly work. I discovered that in a group therapy session, where one poor girl was describing horrific thoughts she wanted to act upon. The shrink suggested we all practice a method of meditation. Alas, I discovered silence. But for it to work, it needed to be silent around me in the outside word. Which led me to cause huge blowout tantrums, that ultimately got me thrown into solitary confinement. Silence.

All my actions during these five years have consequences. My constant 'tantrums' and 'outbursts' got brought to my parents attention, that made it look like I wasn't doing any better, so they'd sign off for me to stay another year. Then another. And another. Until five years passed.

However, I discovered a neat trick that came along with my 'curse'. It happened maybe two years back. My roommate was rambling into the night, on and on about some nonsense fantasy she had, always since she was a child. She'd gone off for about two hours and I only have so much patience. I had gently rose up from my bed, tip toeing over to her side of the room as she kept rambling, moving her mouth at an impossible speed. My only intention was to maybe comfort her in a gentle way so she could go to sleep. So we could both go to sleep. I had the same thought that replayed in my mind ever since she started talking 'Go to sleep'. So, when I touched her shoulder with a gentle hand, she immediately knocked out. I was taken aback, maybe a little afraid. I didn't even say anything to her, but she did as I thought.

I had thought I'd gone actually crazy within these years. I did little experiments on her, and others. Touching them with my bare hand and instructing them to do something. Sometimes I'd say it out loud, sometimes in my mind. Yet it worked every time. Since then, I've been devising a plan to get the hell out.

The time was right now. I had observed for the perfect day, perfect time of day. Watching out for the perfect staff member to hijack. One of the nurses knocked on our open door, before stepping over the threshold. She was our nurse, specifically assigned to our room. Nurse Thorn. Nurse Thorn would bring us our separate medications on a little tray with a glass of water each.

I of course never took them, but the staff never worried about my consumption so they never asked to check my mouth.

She came over to my bed with the same smile she carried on her face for the last five years. Nothing ever changed about her. She was stuck in the same exact pattern. My hand reaches up to take the small capsule. When I lower it down, my hand brushed over hers that were clutching the tray. My whole hand displays across her closed fist, subsequently dropping the meds on the floor.

"Bring me to Doctor Swayne for an evaluation." I said, her eyes going blank as she took in my command. She emotionlessly nodded, placing the tray down on my bed and walking out.

I followed at her heels as she led me to the main doctors office. To man who ran it all. Who prescribed me those pills. Who labelled me as schizophrenic. The man who ruined my life before it even started.

She knocks on the distorted glass door, a muffled 'come in' echoing through the other side. I watched as she turned the handle, and I suddenly realized this was all too real. But I deserved my freedom. Deserved my life back.

I step into his office quickly before Nurse Thorn abruptly closes the door, leaving me and him alone. He looks at me confused over his black rimmed glasses.

"What are you doing here?" His disgusted voice rang through the room.

"I'm here for an evaluation."

"Evaluation? I didn't order an evaluation."

I furrow my eyebrows, my lips form a tight line as I look around just as confused as him, before my gaze returns to his cold eyes.

"Really? Because Nurse Thorn brought me here. She thought I'd gotten real better since I first joined."

Doctor threw the piece of newspaper onto his desk in a motion of defeat. Forced to interact with me. He curls his index finger to give me permission to come forward, and so I approached his desk. I needed this to work now. I did the only thing I thought to do, I extended my hand out, searching for his in a handshake.

"What are you doing." He asks, completely unamused.

"Like an interview, isn't it. I want to introduce myself. Properly. Add to my evaluation." I smile, my arm still extended out in the cold air of his office.

He rolled his eyes, his hand reaching out the same way mine did, meeting my hand directly above his desk. I clasp around it hard and confidently as I make a gentle shake.

"Sign my release papers."

The same blank expression washed over his face like he was entranced. His hand dropped from mine and I watch him get up from his desk over to the copious amounts of file cabinets he held in his office. He searched in silence until he found my name, pulling my file out and a blank release form. The silence that filled the room irked me. I waited in anticipation as he scribbled words down on the sheet, releasing me from my hell. Doc stood up from his desk again, handing me the piece of paper which I gladly took from him. In one hand I held the paper to my freedom, as my eyes scanned through it, my other hand came around to wrap around his forearm.

"Walk me out to the reception. Hand them this paper and tell them to get my clothes." I whispered. I don't know why, I was probably scared it would fail somewhere along the way. I was so close, I could taste it. I was minutes away, I could almost cry.

And he did just that. I stood beside him as the receptionist scrambled in the backroom to find my box of things. Lord knows I would ever fit into it, the last time I wore that was when I was 15. I wasn't a kid anymore. When I retrieved my clothes again, I went off to the front desk bathrooms to change out of my white uniform. My prison outfit. So close.

I stepped back into the lobby, wearing the same AC/DC black tshirt and black bell jeans, same old black boots that felt a little tight around my feet. Jeans I could barely button up and a shirt I could barely get over my head. I didn't care though. I needed clothes.

I walked back to the doctor, placing my hand on his shoulder for the last time. The last piece of manipulation I would ever use on him. The last words I would ever speak to him to secure my own freedom.

"Never come looking for me."

I walked through the big steel doors that I first walked through five years ago. The moment I stepped through those doors, ruining my life. I never thought I'd see the day where I could be able to walk out again. But as I saw the outside scene for the first time in front of me, not just from windows, I felt the wind blow against my face and I knew I was free. I looked before me, starting to walk proudly down the steps, farther and farther away from my own hell.

I had not a dime to my name, or a place to go or a car. Wearing my 15 year old self's clothes. I was prepared to walk until my feet bled and I'd collapse on the floor because I knew one thing. Something I spent careful time memorizing five years ago. The way back.