"Alright sweet pea, it's time to go," the nurse says to me as she enters with all of my belongings. Returning my jewelry, my zippered material, and in turn, a bit of my sanity. I take a deep breath as I run my fingers along the cold metal chain of the small diamond necklace gifted to me by Mr. Walker. As I change into my old clothes, I finally start to feel calm, content, normal. I start to feel like myself again. A smile creeps across my face as I look in the mirror, but as the time goes on, I realize what all of this means.
Mr. Walker is gone, and I am going to live with a bunch of strangers. Maybe this is what God wanted. Maybe I am to be used as a witness to these people.
"Jeremiah 29:11" I whisper to myself, "'For I know the plans I have for you,"' declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
I take a deep breath and try to enter my situation with an open mind. Mr. Walker will be coming for me soon. I just know it.
"Alright Delaney, are you ready?" The woman that came to visit looks at me, waiting for a response. For the first time, I actually see her. She has deep bags under her eyes as if she hasn't slept in days. She tries to hide her graying roots with a cheap chestnut brown hair dye, but the gray creeps through anyway. Her thin skin clings to the bones around her neck and wrists. She leans forward slightly, her posture poor. She's wearing baggy clothes that probably once fit her. In a way she's beautiful, unique. Her eyes are a deep brown that turn golden once hit by the light. It's apparent that she has a weight on her shoulders. She is miserable.
"Delaney hun, this is Michele, your mom, remember?" The nurse looks at me expectantly but I stay quiet for a moment, choosing my words carefully.
"I would really appreciate it if you could call me Margaret," I say before I finally hold the woman, Michele's gaze and smile just a bit. It's not much, but the gesture takes her by surprise. She smiles so wide that she all of her teeth show. It looks as if she wants to move, but something holds her in place, and she nods, swallows hard, and then says through slightly gritted teeth.
"My apologies, are you ready to go Margaret?" I nod taking a step forward, out of the closed room and into the hall. We make our way past the receptionist desk and finally to the front doors.
"Wait!" I hear Dr. Mayes yell. Michele and I turn around to face the man. I smile at him, hopeful that he has more news of Mr. Walker, but instead of talking to me, he talks to Michele.
"She forgot to give you your prescription. Due to the conditions Ms. Carter was living in, we fear that her immune system has weakened. I have prescribed Obiflexzo in order to boost her system," he finishes, handing her the paper.
"Do you have anything for me?" I ask him eagerly, but he shakes his head no. I sigh and look down at the ground as Michele turns my attention back to the doors as Mr. Mayes walks away. I breathe hard, closing my eyes for a moment as the last few weeks flash through my head. I was kidnapped, moved to a psychiatric facility, and am being given to a new family. I was kidnapped, moved to a psychiatric facility, and am being given to a new family. I asked God why what seems like a million times, but I know the answer. He uses us in ways we don't always understand, and I am to just follow his will in order to reach the kingdom of Heaven, for if I obey, he will deliver me from the darkness and into the light.
I lift up my head and take my first step forward, into the outdoors. The bitter air hits my face and I can't help but smile as I hold out my arms and let the sun rest upon my skin. I slowly walk to the edge of the cement and lean down, letting my fingers graze over the grass. For the first time in a long time, I am outside and something inside me lifts. I am finally feel free.
"This way dear,", the woman ushers me towards a small black Impala. 1974 I believe. I smile, running my finger along the surface.
"This yours?" I ask her.
"No baby, it's ours," she says as I give her a pinched smile. Instead of dwelling on her words, I turn my attention to the beauty in front of me. I slowly open the door and slide into the light leather seats, feeling the heat under my legs. I run my fingers lightly along the consol as the woman steps into the drivers side, inserting the key into the ignition, I hear the low rumble of the ignition as it hums beneath me. I close my eyes and feel the familiar running of the ignition. My breathing slows and I smile to myself, humming the Kansas song that's playing lightly on the radio. I am shaken back to reality as the car begins to move. I watch the window intently, taking in every detail of the outdoor world. My brain starts to rush with thoughts of uncertainty. I haven't left the house in over two years, and I know what Mr. Walker would say. He'd tell me that I'm going to be corrupted, and I know I should be upset, but instead I am filled with excitement deep in my blood.
After about 20 minutes, the car starts to slow and we pull into the driveway of a little white farmhouse. The garden wraps around the exterior of the home and continues up the walkway towards the end of the road. I smile as I see the array of blues, whites, and yellows planted in the ground.
"Um, your garden is lovely," I say quietly. The woman smiles at me and nods towards the door. I continue walking and follow the woman. She awkwardly gives me a tour through house, finally ending at my own bedroom.
"Well, that's it, here's your room. I'm gonna head to bed, it's been a long day, holler if you need anything," she says before turning back to me, "it's good to have you home hun," after that she quickly turns and leaves me alone in the room. I walk in and set my bag on the end of the neatly made up bed. I admire the light yellow walls as my eyes scan the room. To my right are two double doors, with white curtains that lead to a small balcony on the side of the house.
I walk to the dresser and admire the jewelry and books scattered on the surface. I make my way to a small picture frame and my stomach drops and I lift the picture, studying it closely. I stare at myself, a wide smile on my face and happiness in my slightly squinted eyes. My arms are draped around the boy from the hospital and my long, red tinted hair lays across his shoulders. I pop the picture from the frame and flip to the back. Tears form in my eyes as I read the words written in my own handwriting.
Me & Dean, my 17th birthday, 2015
My life flashes before my eyes and I realize that I don't remember anything before I was 17. My earliest memory is the day I was shot. I don't even know what's real anymore. I quickly walk to the double doors, and walk out into the cool air, breathing deep.
I look over the ledge into the window across from me. The room is lit and I can ever so slightly see through the curtains. I lay on the hardwood floor of the balcony as the as the light from the other room goes off and the figure that was in the window disappears. I close my eyes, feeling a light rain start to hit my skin as the world fades and I feel myself drifting to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Stockholm Syndrome
General FictionThe sounds overwhelm me and I don't know what to do. I watch as the people swarm around me talking, but I can't hear them. I am watching the screen. I see myself in the recording, but what I see is not what I remember. I look at the woman with hope...
