The Girl Who Felt The World

Maddy's New Start

Maddy stood in the doorway of the small unit, her vibrant red hair blowing across her face in the cool breeze. If eyes were the window to the soul, hers were empty - a gateway to nothingness. She blinked slowly, trying to focus on the woman in front of her.

The support worker, a tall, thin woman much older than the nineteen-year-old Maddy, had a kind but stern face, lined with wrinkles that hinted at years of experience. A cheery smile was plastered across her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

The woman was speaking, but Maddy wasn't there. Her brain had floated away, a combination of being overwhelmed and overmedicated. The ground beneath her feet felt distant; the words reaching her ears were muffled like she was hearing them through a thick fog.

She wasn't there by choice - more by lack of one. The psych ward that had housed her for the past few months couldn't release her onto the streets, so they had organised her placement here, in these units for young adults with mental health issues, supervised by support workers.

No one event or moment led to this place, or her placement in the psych ward. It was more like an accumulation of choices and mishaps, of wrong turns and backward steps - a need, an instinctual impulse to run and hide from pain, a deep desire to not exist.

“Madison, are you listening?” The support worker’s voice cut through the haze, snapping Maddy back to the present.

Maddy flinched at the sound of her full name. It always felt strange, like it wasn’t really hers. “Yeah.” She forced the word out, reluctant to interact, preferring instead to lose herself in her thoughts, wishing she could become invisible.

The woman nodded, seemingly satisfied, and continued speaking. “You’ll be sharing this unit with two other girls. It’s important that you all respect each other’s space and privacy. The kitchen is shared, but you’ll have your own cupboard space.”

Maddy nodded along, though she wasn’t really absorbing the information. The rules, the expectations - they all blurred together in her mind. She didn’t care. She was just trying to survive, one day at a time. The psych ward had been her sanctuary, an escape from the chaos of the outside world, and now she was being thrust back into it, expected to function like a person.

The support worker led Maddy into the small living room, where two girls were sitting on mismatched couches. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a flickering overhead bulb and the muted afternoon sun filtering through the large front windows. The couches were covered in brightly coloured fabric, an attempt to liven up the drab space and cover the old, worn furniture. Opposite the front door, the small open-plan kitchen and dining area were visible, and a few dishes piled up in the sink.

“This is Sade and Tara,” the support worker introduced the girls, gesturing to each of them in turn.

Sade was a shorter, curvy girl with strawberry blonde hair that just touched her shoulders. Freckles dotted her lightly made-up face, and her large green eyes looked Maddy up and down with disinterest. She barely acknowledged Maddy, her attention fixed on her phone.

Beside Sade was Tara, a larger girl with dark hair tied back in a messy bun. She was wearing a Pokémon T-shirt and baggy jeans with a chunky belt, and she seemed far more engaged, smiling and bantering with the support worker.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Tara offered with a friendly grin. She seemed eager, maybe a little too eager, to make Maddy feel welcome.

Maddy tried to return the smile, but it felt strange on her face like it didn’t quite fit. Forced. Fake. “Yeah, you too,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Sade glanced up briefly, giving Maddy a half-hearted nod before returning her focus to her phone, her greeting clearly an obligation. Tara's facade of friendliness seemed to fade as well, her interest waning once the support worker's attention was elsewhere. The room was heavy with a sense of being unwanted, perhaps exasperated by Maddy’s lack of self-worth and discomfort at being the centre of focus.

The support worker continued explaining the rules, her voice droning on in the background as Maddy’s attention drifted. The smell of incense or scented candles filled the room, a strange and overwhelming combination of scents that made Maddy’s stomach churn. Maybe it was the smell, or maybe it was her emotional state, but a wave of nausea washed over her, and she fought the urge to run away, to scream, to let all the fear and anxiety inside her erupt.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead, she plastered on a weak, unconvincing smile and pretended to be okay. Pretended to be normal, whatever that meant. But she wasn’t. She was a collection of broken pieces, barely holding herself together.

“Madison?” The sound of her full name snapped her back to reality again, and she realized the support worker was looking at her, waiting for a response.

“Sorry, what?” Maddy asked, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus.

“I was just saying that if you need anything, I’ll be around,” the support worker repeated, her tone patient but slightly exasperated. “Just come and find me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Maddy agreed, nodding absently. She had no intention of seeking out help, but it was easier to go along with what was expected of her.

With that, the support worker left, leaving Maddy alone with her two new roommates. The silence in the room was deafening, and Maddy felt a sense of unease tingling along her skin. She didn’t know how to be around people, didn’t know how to connect or interact without feeling like an impostor.

After a few more awkward moments, Maddy excused herself and headed to her new room. It was small, with a metal-framed single bed that took up most of the space. The white walls felt suffocating and bleak, a stark contrast to the bright colours of the living room. She dropped her bag - the only belongings she had in the world - on the bed and sat down, the mattress creaking under her weight.

As she looked around the room, she felt a dull hollow ache in her chest. This didn’t feel like a new beginning or an end. It felt like limbo, a place where she would be put away and forgotten. The thought made her chest tighten, her emotions sparking like electricity just beneath the surface, restless, unfocused.

Maddy ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at the ends as if trying to ground herself in the present moment. But it was no use. The room seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing in from all sides.

She stood up abruptly, pacing the small room in an attempt to shake off the suffocating feeling. But no matter what she did, the emptiness remained. It was like a void inside her, a black hole that threatened to swallow her whole.

This was her life - an invisible burden in a sea of siblings, passed between parents who didn’t want her, who oozed hatred for each other. Lost, abandoned, and floating in a suffocating emptiness, Maddy couldn’t pinpoint when or how she had gotten here or where to even begin to escape it. But she knew she desperately wanted to, somehow.

Maddy lay down on the bed, curling up on her side as she stared at the bleak white ceiling above her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, to escape her reality, if only for a little while. But even as she drifted off, the emptiness, a constant presence, a reminder she was drifting, unanchored, in a world where she no longer felt connected.