Muted

Chapter 13

Ian would not be back anytime soon according to the large analog clock of a bank I had passed after running for a little. It was only ten forty-five. I thought it was much later. I looked down. My legs were bleeding and my arms were red. I was also very hungry and completely broke. I ran down the street, attempting to ignore the pain that was emanating from my body. I saw a house with toys thrown around the front. I ran to the door and rang the bell. No one answered. I tried the house next door. Again, no one was home. After about five houses, I found one with a person home. There was a car in the driveway and the lights were on. I knocked on the door and a young lady came out. She had long brown hair and was very skinny. “Oh my God.” she said when she saw me. “Come inside, I’m calling the police.”

When the police had been called she gave me a blanket. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” I shook my head, I was hungry, but didn’t want to impose onto her. It was an awkward ten minutes because I didn’t say a word. The police saved the awkwardness I caused by arriving. One of them looked at me and then phoned for an ambulance. "I'm Detective Samuel Fren. Sadie, we know who you are. You need to tell us who did this to you." I pulled the blanket closer to my body. "Ian Michael." I try to say, but words don't come to my lips.

I was taken to the closest hospital. They treated my wounds and checked me for any underlying problems. I had barely eaten in the days I was gone and I couldn't eat now. Food made me sick. They said that I had an infection and made me stay longer in the four corners of hell. My mother, George and Carlie visited me. Eventually, Casey could see me. I was told that he was getting better. He had to cover his mouth. He was happy to see me. "Mommy and daddy were sad that you were gone." I looked at George. He definitely was not my father, but he liked the title. He smiled when Casey called him that. My mom gave me a hug. Carlie jumped on my bed. It was hard to act like she wasn't hurting me. I had to pretend like I wanted to be around my family, but there was only one person that I wanted to see.

Monroe didn't show up for a while because only direct family could see me. I was visited by a detective, he was the one who responded to the call when I was found. "Sadie, we are here because your rape kit came back positive, but there are no identifying fluids. We checked the shirt, but there are no fingerprints or identifying fibers. All we could find was spray paint. We need a name." I hid myself under the thin blanket until he went away. Childish, I know, but I'm not ready to talk about it.         When Monroe was finally able to see me, he almost broke down the door. "Sadie, thank God you're alive. I was so worried. One second we were together and the next you were gone. I heard something break and I knew you were gone." I curled up the best I could in the bed. "I should have never let you go down the stairs alone. That's what happens in horror movies. What happened to you?" I couldn't tell him. I just remember his clammy hands on me and his breath, a hundred percent alcohol. “Sadie, I was told that you were kidnapped and raped. Do you want your torturer to rot in a cell for the rest of his life?” I nodded. The group came in, but there was an addition: Ian Michael or Ren, I don't know who to call him. I froze in the bed. “Sadie, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t breath. I felt my heart beat at ten million beats a second. I was hyperventilating. “Get the nurse!” Monroe screamed.

My friends and family were not allowed to see me for some time after my episode. They relocated me to the psych ward, or as they called it, Westbrook Psychiatric Facility. W.P.F. was so technical and the name dehumanized the patients. They said that I had a ‘panic attack.’ It was brought on upon a person or event. They were also fascinated by my lack of communication. They gave me a full psychological evaluation. I got my diagnosis a few hours later. A doctor with a lab coat and blue scrubs walked in with a chart in his hands. “Sadie Dilon, looks like you are long overdue at this facility. You are affected by a few psychological issues. You have what we call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. We expected that from the condition we received you in and your lack of communication. We also have diagnosed you with Panic disorder, which is not uncommon for those with PTSD. What we are surprised about is the rest of the results. You have anorexia nervosa, possible Adjustment Disorder and nightmare disorders, which again is common in your state. You are a very concerning patient Sadie. In this case, the police need to know your captor. Self- inflicted wounds are not evident. These wounds were done with irons and branders. Some are on your back and unless you have created a new form of self harm, I believe these were caused by someone else and were intended to kill you.  Sadie, you need to reveal what has happened to you.” I shook my head. “And why not? Do you want this person to get away?” I shook my head again. “Listen, you will stay here under our adolescent program.” He left the room defeated.

I was enrolled in their adolescent program as soon as he left. I would go to school here, sleep here and eat here all while being treated for my issues. I was given grey sweats, not like I cared. I guess they had to give us all similar and safe clothing. I guess there were some suicidal people and they had to make sure nothing could be used to off yourself, although I could figure out a few ways.

The first day, I didn’t move from my bed. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to eat. I just felt like wallowing in my self pity. Nurses came into my room every five minutes to make sure I was okay and alive. The alive part is important because it seems that all the nurses here have a common opinion that we are all trying to kill either ourselves or someone else. I wanted to kill Ren/Ian, but I couldn’t. I felt a pang of fear in my gut. He was right. He had won.

I left the room the second day because I was really hungry. I ate breakfast with a bunch of other people. There were dangerously skinny girls, boys with gun wounds, teens with bandages on their wrists and some that looked perfectly fine. I sat alone with my eggs and sausage. Some girls sat down with me. “Is this your first day here?” She was pale and had thin blonde hair. She herself was rail thin. “Are you anorexic too?” She asked. “Elle! That’s not your business!” Said the raven haired girl next to her. “I’m Tammi, with an ‘i.’” I nodded. “I’m Elle, I want to get the hell out of here! I’ve been here for three weeks!” I nodded. “So, is it your first day here?” I shook my head. “Damn, you’re quiet.” Elle said. “Wait, are you the girl from the news?” Elle asked. I heard the faint sound of Tammi’s hand hitting the fabric of Elle’s sweatshirt. “What? It was an honest question.” “I’m sorry, Elle can be a bit ignorant to the emotions of others.” I picked at my breakfast. “I would at least try and eat.” Tammi whispered to me. “If you want to see your family, I would eat.” I tasted the eggs. There was too much butter and salt on them. They were a nutritionist’s worst nightmare. I still ate them though. I gulped down the salt and butter with eggs and a glass of orange juice. I wasn’t too fond of sausage, or any meat for that matter.

After breakfast we had school. They assigned you a generic schedule based on your old course load. I still have to do derivatives first thing in the morning. Then I go on to english, physics and sociology. They didn’t teach psychology in the psych ward and apparently everyone took sociology because it was better than American History. We had a quiz in english on Hamlet. After my four required classes, we had lunch and group. Lunch was tomato soup and grilled cheese, which I didn’t eat. I only ate the side salad they gave us and drank the apple juice. Group was next. I walked into a room with many chairs put into a circle. “Ah, Sadie, glad you showed up today.” It was the same doctor who told me my diagnosis. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I am Doctor Allen. I am the adolescent psychiatrist and therapist here at W.P.F. and I run the group.” I sat down in a metal chair. Other kids started to come in. Elle and Tammi sat next to me. I missed Monroe terribly. I just wanted to see him. Dr. Allen put his hands together. “Okay, now, today we have a new patient. Her name is Sadie. She doesn’t talk and she has severe PTSD. She has been placed here under police orders until they are sure that she is safe.” I was taken back by his openness. He just came out and said my issues. “Who wants to start today? Why don’t you talk Tammi?” I look to Tammi, her face red. “Sure, Dr. Allen. Um, I’m Tammi, with an ‘i’ and I’m here because I tried to off myself. I was bullied at my school. The girls wrote rude messages in the bathroom stalls and created hate pages dedicated to hurting me. I don’t know what I did, but for some reason, they all turned against me. My boyfriend dumped me for the main bitch and my best friend won’t talk to me. I tried to kill myself because no one asked me to prom and when I tried to ask someone, they beat me to it. So, on the night of my junior prom, I swallowed every pill in my mom’s medicine cabinet. Obviously, it didn’t work.” “Tammi, that’s so sad. I wish I went to your school. I totally would have gone with you.” Said a guy with intense green eyes and black hair. Tammi smiled. “Thanks Jack, maybe I can come to your senior prom.” Tammi said weakly. Dr. Allen stood up. “Prom is the night where girl put on make-up and dresses and heels while boys wear suits and rent out hotel rooms in hopes of getting lucky. Am I right?” No one responded. “Has anyone in here actually gone to prom?” He asked. I slowly raised my hand. Elle was the only other person who raised her hand. “Sadie, you went to prom? Did you have fun?” I nodded. “And you went with a guy? Were you romantically involved with this boy?” I nodded. To be honest, I barely remember prom. It is just a muddle of events behind the whole kidnapping situation.