Sorry

Chapter six

I wasn't sure if I had woken up, or if was dreaming. There was metal in either side of me... rails? An unfamiliar ceiling glared from up above. The blankets didn't feel anything like mine. These were light, soft, barely touchable. Everything blurred together when I moved my head. My limbs felt heavy.

I don't understand, was the only clear thought to surface in my jumbled mind.

I saw thick white straps, wrapped around my wrists like they were hugging me.

What are those for? I wondered dimly. But just before my mind cleared, I plunged back into dark sleep.

I woke up for good several hours later. It dawned that the straps I had seen hours before were restraints, to bind me incase of any hope of escape. The were gone now, replaced with chunky plastic bracelets. The one on my right wrist said my name in capital letters, along with my birthdate. The one on my left wrist said nothing. I never figured out what that one was for.

Slowly, I stood up. The room was familiar, sending a cold feeling down my spine.

No.

The desk, the blankets, the walls, I knew all of it.

Lord have mercy.

I was back at Paisley Lake.

Help me.

I spent the first few minutes of my waking period groggily wandering the halls. I was on the ninth floor. My old room had been on the sixth.

Madeline. I'll find her.

I stumbled into an elevator, and stabbed the button for the lobby. I found my friend quickly, by the kitchen.

I know you too well.

We conversed for a few minutes, about the outer world, my readmission, and of course food. She wasn't particularly surprised I was back.

As Madeline rummaged through the fridge, I looked around. A girl about our age caught my eye. She stood by the window, looking outside with a certain expression on her face. It looked kind of sad, but happy and terrified at the same time. Usually, other people at Paisley Lake didn't catch my attention. But she did.

She was pretty, but it was the kind of beauty that was kept hidden under a pile of hair and makeup in a desperate attempt to fit in.

Natural beauty. So long since that's even existed.

She had dark hair, tight little ringlets of it, that reached the very end of her lower back. A a few strands were tucked behind small ears. Her eyes were blue, but not normal blue. The were bright and clear, reflecting the outside. Somehow I think they reflected her inside also.

Eyes are windows.

She wore the same white shirt and lilac colored robe as the rest of the girls, but it was something in her face.

I nudged Madeline, and pointed.

"Who's she?"

Madeline glanced over, then stuck her head in the fridge.

"That's Gwendolynn. She got here a few weeks ago."

"What's wrong with her? She looks way too put together."

"I don't know. She doesn't talk to anybody. Even the nurses can't get her to speak. She isn't mute, I've heard her talking to herself in her room."

"That's sad. Maybe she needs a friend?"

Madeline looked at me doubtfully.

"I kind of don't think so, Heather. She isn't normal."

I scoffed.

"None of us are normal, Madeline. None of us have been normal for years."

"Yeah but," she looked around uneasily. "Fine. I don't care. Talk to her if you want."

I waited a beat before asking, "what? Why are you against me talking to her."

Madeline closed the refrigerator doors and retrieved a spoon for the cup of pudding she took.

"I'm not against it, you know I love new people, it's just... well you aren't exactly a friendly person Heather. When you want to make new friends it kinda tells me something is wrong, you know?"

She tore the plastic top of the pudding cup and jabbed her spoon into it. I looked away from her.

"I dunno Mads. I can be friendly. Maybe I want some friends. It's hard going back out into the world and being ostracized."

"I know Heather."

I felt a twinge of annoyance at my best friend.

"I really don't think you do. Madeline, I was better. I was healthy, and I got out. You aren't healthy, and you never will be. You're too crazy to leave, and you don't have to feel the harsh stuff into the real world. You know you won't ever feel it. Don't say you 'get it'," I sneered at her.

Madeline paused, the spoon full of chocolate pudding frozen halfway to her mouth. She placed the spoon back in the cup and set it on the counter. I couldn't avoid her haunting eyes. They were shiny, filled with tears.

"Your a bitch, Heather."

I watched her leave, my body already filling with guilt that wracked my soul.

I know.

****
"So, Heather. Tell me why you tried to kill yourself." Sarah Spencer reclined on a plush brown couch. Her eyes were boring holes into me.

It doesn't pay to lie.

But I did it anyways.

"I didn't. It was an accident."

She stared at me, the silence strangling me. I felt like I was a suspect for murder, and she was the detective. Waiting for me to crack. I shrugged, and held her gaze. My lip quivered. We continued our intense staring contest for a few minutes.

Tick tock, tick tock tick tick tick...

My lips quivered more, and I bit them to stop. My gaze blurred, and I found myself breaking away from Sarah Spencer.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. Hot tears made their way up my tear ducts and spilled down cheeks. I was angry and embarrassed. What was happening to me? I had never broke my silent stupor before.

Get ahold of yourself! Do not show weakness!"

I scolded myself mentally, but I just cried more. Sarah Spencer opened her mouth to speak, maybe even to show some emotion and comfort her blubbering patient. But I spoke first.

"I didn't want to hurt myself! I just wanted to stop feeling that way! I never wanted to hurt Aunt Mary, or Noah, or... or..." I couldn't bring myself to say it. I cried some more.

"Or what Heather? What were you going to say?"

I choked on my own tears for a second, desperately trying to stop my bawling. They kept up a heavy flow until I answered my shrink.

"My mom! I didn't mean to kill her!" I choked as I said it. "I miss her so much!"

Sarah Spencer passed me a box of tissues, and waited until my wails had settled, and I could take a breath without shuddering.

"Why don't you tell me what happened? Everything, from the beginning?"

I took a deep breath, and gripped the tissue in my hands, white knuckled.

Can I?

"Heather? Tell me."

I can... but should I?

"Heather, answer me." I couldn't bring myself to look up from the speckled carpet.

I shouldn't.

"Please sweetheart, say something." She sounded genuinely worried.

He'll kill me.