Stockholm Syndrome

The Bible

2016

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Margaret Anne, happy birthday to you," everyone sings in unison.

"Blow out your candles Margie," Cam says excitedly. I take a deep breath and release it, blowing out all 17 candles on the cake in front of me. Angela laughs from her highchair and the rest of the kids gather around me as they pull out their homemade cards and gifts. Mr. Walker leaves the room, returning with a box wrapped in pink and gold paper.

"Here, for you." He hands me the package smiling. I slowly peel back the paper and open the small cardboard box. Inside the box is a small blue leather Bible. I smile and run my hand over the cover. On the bottom right corner, my name is engraved in gold lettering. I open to the front page and read the paragraph that is written in Mr. Walker's familiar handwriting. He looks at me eagerly as I read the writing.

'My dear Margaret,

I am so proud of the young lady you are becoming. You have laid yourself down before God and let go of the world. You have become a good example for the other children and I am so so very proud to call you my daughter. Don't drift from the path and you shall be welcomed into the kingdom of heaven. I love you.

Love,

Mr. Walker.

2018

I open my eyes and the room blurs around me. I blink a few times as the fluorescent lights above me come into focus. My head is pounding and the room spins around me. I slowly lift one arm, then the next, and try to sit up. Pain shoots through my body I suddenly feel very nauseous. A cough escapes from my lips and the nurse looks at me.

"Oh good dear you're up, we were starting to get worried!"

I groan and look around. "What happened?" I ask her groggily. She sighs and ignores me. I stare at her for a long time before she finally decides to answer.

"We had to calm you down dear." I lay my head down, understanding what happened. They gave me a drug. Again. It happens every once in a while. They believe that I am a little too rowdy and they inject me with an anesthetic: Sinflexctyl, probably just 5mg, but I never know for sure.

"How long was I out?" I spit at her viciously. She sighs and looks at me with sorrow in her eyes.

"Just a few hours this time." I shake my head and hold back the tears. I just want to go home. If they keep pumping me with antipsychotics, I'm going to go insane. I can't take it anymore.

"Get out," I mutter. She starts to babble nonsense about how they're just trying to help.

"GET OUT," I yell and she takes a deep breath, leaving the room. I stare at the wall for what feels like forever, tears running down my cheek before I hear the door start to squeak open again.

"I said get out," I say with venom in my voice, keeping my eyes on the wall and my back to the door.

"Margie, talk to me please. I'm sorry." My body starts to shake as I cry harder. I try to pull myself together, but it's no use. I am going crazy in here and I am losing my own family in the process. Camden walks up behind me and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing my back. Sometimes I forget that he's younger than me, he just seems so much older nowadays.

"I brought you something," Cam says and I turn to see him holding my little blue Bible. I gasp and run my fingers along the cover, before slowly flipping through the pages, reading my notes and highlights. Looking at my familiar handwriting next to Mr. Walker's.

2016

"Margaret do you want to do your studies with me today?" Mr. Walker ask me.

"Yes! Of course I do," I say as I excitedly jump up out of my spot on the floor and move to the kitchen table placed in the center of the room with Mr. Walker. We set the book in the middle of our seats, him grabbing the yellow marker with the black pen, while I would grab the pink and blue.