Burlap

27 - Dark Carnival of the Immaculate

I woke some time later. An irritating, thin layer of film sealed my eyelids together, having been produced from the sharp chemical fumes of the various cleaning agents surrounding me. My legs stretched out as I pushed myself up to sit upright, and I palmed at my aching eyes and temples.

Too much had happened too quickly. It seemed that one horrible thing barely passed by before another took its place, and the ache in my teeth from the constant grinding they’d been doing in my sleep attested to my never waning panic and stress. I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning my head back against the door with a dull thud.

Martha had been Marcie’s aunt. That explained why the young woman had been so comfortable with her and had expected her to roll over and let me go to town with her so long ago. She must have been the only other thing keeping Marcie from going to the thirteenth floor after her episode. Aside from John’s great sacrifice, anyway. No wonder the girl had flitted around without a care in the world. She had someone who could do something on her side the entire time.

I wondered if any of our other ward members knew about it. Surely I’d have heard something in passing conversation by now if they did. But, why would she keep it secret?

Stop playing psychiatrist. Just go ask her, stupid.

Another weighted breath inflated my chest and I let it fly from my lips in a disgusted raspberry sound. Did it even matter if anyone else knew? Did it matter at all? What difference did it make? Marcie didn’t want to leave anyway, so Martha was most likely only there to make sure she stayed on the safe side of the asylum. And, that was a good thing. 

Right?

Either way, I needed to get off the dingy supply closet floor and go find her. I hadn’t checked on her in days, and there was no telling where she was on the limited, yet volatile, spectrum of emotions she possessed. I could only hope for the happy side, because it seemed no one except me wanted anything to do with her during the other phase.

With every muscle crying out in protest, I stumbled to my feet and left the closet. The bright florescent lights in the hallways felt like scalding water on my eyes, and I groaned as they tried to adjust past the pain.

Your body is shutting down, because of the stress. You can’t handle it, Sane. We need to escape before you’re even more useless than you already are.

I ignored her and gritted past the aches and pains in my stiff body, walking in a jagged line toward the lounge. I passed by Marcie and Lottie’s room on the way and poked my head in the door, hoping she’d be in there so I wouldn’t have to walk any further. Lottie shook her head with a small smile when I asked if she was in there with her. 

“I haven’t seen her all day,” she added. Then, “Are you alright? You look… tired.”

In other words, I looked like death warmed over, chewed up and spit out. It didn’t surprise me because that’s how I felt, too.

“I’m fine,” I replied, waving my unruly hair from my face. “Just need a few more hours of sleep at night, is all.”

“Well, you do that. You look like you need it.”

And you look like you need a sandwich, anorexic brat.

I mentally scolded Power for her insensitivity, then left the room in search of the blond beauty.

The lounge doors squeaked horribly when I opened them, causing everyone’s heads to turn to me. I smiled a tired, apologetic smile and scanned their faces for Marcie, only to come up empty.

“Has anyone seen Marce?” I asked, flicking my gaze from John, to Esther, to Ed. George and Marcie were nowhere to be seen.

“Not since earlier today. She’s not in her room?” Esther asked, raising a sharply penciled in eyebrow. Her makeup seemed slightly off. Her usually elegant eyelashes were clumpy and thick. Her eyebrows had been penciled in with a heavy hand. Her red lip stain feathered out around the minuscule wrinkles surrounding her lips. All things she had drilled into my head as felony grade beauty faux pas.