Freedom of Sketch

Ativan Fog

Time does weird things when you're sedated.

I took the pill, migrated from The Lounge to my room, where Tori brought my dinner for me in a Styrofoam box. "Shhh," she whispered in the dark, "I'm not allowed to let you eat in your room."

"The camera will see you," I murmured.

"They'll just reprimand me," she said with a chuckle. "No big deal."

Then back to The Lounge again. Talia was there, and I suddenly found myself sitting behind her on the couch, gently brushing the tangles from her hair.

***

"I don't even remember all of what she said," Talia mumbles, words clumsily tumbling out from between her swollen red lips. "Just a lot of bullshit about how I'm impossible to love, yada yada yada." She flaps her hand.

I work the comb down from the crown of her head and grab the strands of hair above the knots so that it won't hurt her while I pick at them with the comb. The phone call was from her ex, Norah, who was very angry about Talia's suicide note. Talia scoffs, "or maybe it was that I didn't deserve love. Yeah. I think that was it. I don't deserve to be loved."

"Everyone deserves to be loved," I say before I can stop myself. Pick, pick, pick: I unravel a knot.

"Have you ever been in love?"

I stop combing for a second, and try to think. Daniel keeps materializing in my mind, smiling as though he isn't aware of my fault lines, dark eyes seeing everything I am. I sigh. "I'm not sure. I kept thinking that he was like a brother to me, and he was for the longest time. But lately, every time I see him, it's like my heart skips a beat. So cliché, I know. It could all be in my imagination."

Talia turns her head to look at me. "What's his name?"

"Daniel."

She turns her head back so I can continue combing. "I try not to go over it too much because it leaves my head feeling crowded, but I think Norah's pushing me away because her parents were never okay with the idea of her dating another girl. I think she's afraid."

Me: "We can psychoanalyze her all day long, but it doesn't change the fact that she hurt you. I mean really hurt you."

"Yeah," Talia responds in a hollow voice.

Alyssa appears, edging herself through the doorway. We stiffen as she approaches us. "Um, hi...." she tries. "Talia, I saw what happened and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for whatever you're going through."

Talia bobs her head. "Thanks."

Alyssa turns to me. "Do you know how to do a French braid?"

"Not at all," I say.

"Can I French braid your hair?" she says to Talia.

Talia smiles. "Sure." I get up to make room for Alyssa and watch through tired eyes as she weaves and weaves and weaves....