Banished

4: Down the Rabbit Hole

"Sometimes an ink blot is just an ink blot."

-Rorschach Remedies and Snake Oils

4
Down the Rabbit Hole
Dorthea

The clock ticked on, the hour coming to a close while Dr. Baum continued to read my journal in silence.
I looked back and forth between the clock and the man. "You do realize you haven't moved that cup from your lips for, like, fifteen minutes. Are you having a stroke?" I finally asked, standing. "I'll go get someone."
He sputtered and set down his tea. "No, no. I'm quite all right. Just enthralled by the details of your transmogrifijiggering. You are a gifted storyteller."
"It's not a story."
"Of course it is."
I rolled my eyes. "Why do I even bother talking if you don't actually listen to what I'm saying?"
"Because you want to get home and you need my help. So kindly hear me out for a moment." Dr. Baum gestured me back to my seat. "What I meant is that all of life is a story. And we are its authors. In your story, you control the narrative of what happens to you, of what is real and what is not. It matters not what anyone else believes, just what is firmly planted in your heart and mind. Your perception is your reality." He laid the book in front of me gently. "This. This is reality. At least to you." After turning his back on me, he went to his desk and pushed the button on the intercom. "Ms. Gayle is finished with her tea."
He said nothing else before I was led back to my room. Just let his words marinate in the murky soup of my thoughts. I didn't understand where he was going with this "Perception is reality" business. Did that mean he wanted me to believe in this reality and forget it all...like my mother begged me to do? Or did he want me to hang on to the reality in Libraria and keep writing about what happened to Rexi? He seemed to act like they could both be true. Which seemed impossible.
For the second time in a week, I returned to find a visitor in my hospital room. But not my parents. Rather it was a boy in hospital scrubs like mine. He stood at the window, with his back to me, looking outside. I couldn't tell the color of his hair since the only remnants of it was the light fuzz of regrowth along his scalp.
"They all talk about you, you know," he said, seemingly sensing that he was no longer alone.
"I'm sorry, but have we met?"
"Nope," he said blithely and turned. "But I know you, Your Majesty."
The hairs on my arms went up. My heart warred with itself, trying to determine if he was enemy or friend.
He kept his gaze down and put a hand to his chest. "I'm unsure of protocol when meeting a princess. Perhaps you were expecting me to bow." Head lowered, he swept his hands in an exaggerated greeting.
The whole "friend" thing wasn't looking good.
"What do you want?" I asked, staying on the balls of my feet in case I needed to bolt.
"I came here because I heard about your drawings and wanted to see for myself." He raised his head and pointed to the one high on the ceiling above my bed. "That one in particular."
Seeing his face for the first time, I gasped. While the features weren't an exact match, the eyes were his. I couldn't forget that ice-blue stare no matter how many lives I lived.
"Kato," I cried, rushing forward.
Before I could embrace him, he threw his hands up to catch my shoulders, keeping me at a distance. "Whoa there. I knew you were crazy, but no one told me you were a stalker too."
Seeing my face fall, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his scalp. "Look, I seem to remind you of somebody you know. Sorry, but you have to admit it's creepy to find a portrait of yourself in some airhead's hospital room. So I'm just gonna take that drawing, and we can forget this whole stalking thing." He moved to climb on my bed.
His arrogance broke my silence. "Airhead? You don't even know me!"
"You're so special that you argued yourself into a private room in an overcrowded hospital. You think you're a princess from a far-off land. You're too high and mighty to take meals with the rest of us commoners, and half of these drawings are of shoes." He pointed around the room and then settled his gaze back on me. "Am I missing anything?"
"When you put it like that, I sound bad." I pointed at the ruby-heeled Hans Christian Louboutin. "But these shoes aren't only fabulously high fashion. They're magic too. And I need them to take me back to the land of Fairy Tale."
The boy nodded slowly, sidestepping past me with an eye on the door. "Okay...you have issues. And well, it's been unique."
I smacked my face with both hands. Moron. I hadn't meant to blabber about magic. I forgot I was talking to someone from this world because of the resemblance to Kato.
"Hey," he said, pausing at the door. "I don't get your whole deal, but for the sake of everyone around you, get over yourself. You will be better off if you let go of your fantasies and accept what's in front of you. Trust me, there's no magic that can save you when death comes." Then he left.
I scurried to the door to catch him, but he was gone. I looked up and down the hallway, but he'd disappeared. Who did I see? My parents. Headed back toward the doctor's suite.
Of course, I followed them.
Peeking around a corner, I saw Dr. Baum usher Mom and Dad into his office. His eyes narrowed in my direction, but that was probably my imagination. After he shut the door, I was worried I wouldn't be able to hear their conversation, but I nonchalantly stood outside his office like I was his next appointment. Luckily, the door didn't catch when he'd closed it, so I could listen through the crack.
"Mr. and Mrs. Gayle, I will get straight to the point. As you know, what your daughter and I talk about here is completely confidential. Some of it is philosophy, some theory, and of course, we have great tea..."
"The point, Doctor," my mother interjected. "You said you had one."
"Ah, yes." Dr. Baum coughed. "In recent days I've become more convinced that this isn't the right place for her. So if you wouldn't mind gathering up her things, I can start making transfer arrangements."
"You're trying to get rid of us?" my dad asked.
"Not at all. I'm simply trying to get her out of this hospital."
"What's wrong with this hospital, and why now?" my mother asked, her voice lowering.
There was a long pause before Dr. Baum said, "Dorothy's writings are becoming increasingly more paranoid and dark. And to be perfectly honest, I'm afraid I can't keep her safe here anymore."
The sound of furniture scraping across the floor was followed by my mother's voice, which grew louder and closer. "Then I agree. She shouldn't stay here. I knew allowing her to find her way through this fantasy was a bad idea, and now you think she is in danger of self-harm."
"It is not self-harm that worries me. Rest assured, Mrs. Gayle, until the transfer is complete, I've arranged a strict security detail. We will have no mishaps after her radiation treatment."
Someone touched my shoulder, and I stifled a scream. It was a nurse.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, dearie," she said.
"I was just..." I found myself at a loss for an excuse.
"Eavesdropping and making yourself late for a very important date." She tapped her watch. "Come along now." She all but shoved me in a wheelchair and pushed me to the oncology section of the hospital. The chemo room.
"Don't worry about a thing. This treatment won't hurt at all, Dorothy dear."
Lies, I thought as the nurse readied the IV. Everyone lies to me. My parents. Dr. Baum. For once I wanted someone to tell me the truth.
This is going to hurt. A lot. The cure sucks and may kill you faster than the cancer. But hey, if you survive, bald is in fashion, and think of all the money you'll save on hair products.
Yeah, not a chance. The room was decorated with glitter stars and colorful little bunnies like a unicorn had thrown up rainbows and woodland creatures everywhere. But there was nothing that could brighten my mood. I saw the decorations for the lies they were. The cheer was all a screen. A desperate plea for patients to stay positive. Gotta keep your spirits up! Gotta look on the bright side! Too bad the dark side will stab you in the back, whether you hear it coming or not.
Outside, the weather affirmed my opinion. The emergency warning alert had sounded a half an hour before my therapy tea, the siren cutting into the kids' cartoons they insisted on playing during chemo. Tornado watch.
A flash of light flared into the room through the window. One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three-one thousand. Four-one thousand. Five-
Boom.
The nurse left, and my hand tingled and burned-a sure sign that the IV had started pumping. The green liquid was like fire seeping through my veins. Which meant the visions weren't far behind. My body felt light, and my mind drifted, calling me to my memories and a land that should have been full of Happily Ever Afters but was wallowed in war. And all because of me. I swear I could hear the screams from people fleeing the battlefield. Fleeing me.
If Dr. Baum was right, I was in charge of my story. And I was tired. Tired of everyone thinking I was crazy. Tired of making my parents sad. Tired of dreaming about the destruction of a world I couldn't get back to protect. "It's not real..."
In my mind, the wails grew louder. It's like I was back in the moments when the curse engulfed me, just before I was banished to Kansas. I could smell the people of Camelot burning in my Emerald flames.
That boy said I had issues. No pixing joke.
So I focused on changing my mental picture, rewriting the story. A beach. Maybe the stench was a bonfire. Despite my efforts to picture s'mores, the image of the charred bodies only got more vivid. I shook my head. "No, it's not real. I am in control."
"You wish," a voice cackled, high-pitched and off-key. "Or maybe not, since that's what got you into this mess."
I jerked my head around, searching the room. The monitors beeped quicker, making music out of my racing pulse. When I saw a face, I opened my mouth to scream. Then I realized it was me. A reflection on the glass cabinet door. Except for a second, the reflection didn't look like me.
Nonsense. The room was empty. I was alone. The only sound was the storm outside, wind howling and whipping the rain against the window.
Another flare of light.
One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three-one thousand. Four-
Crack.
The storm is getting closer. And then as if on cue, the lights went out, plunging my room in darkness. Within a second, the generator spells kicked in, bringing devices back to life and lighting the emergency hallway glow crystals. My room remained dark except for a small trickle of light from the hall.
"Hello?" I steadied myself on the edge of the reclining chair, leaning out as far as the IV tether would let me. I expected nurses and doctors scrambling in the hallway, but even graveyards had more life than this hospital at the moment.
Where had everyone gone?
Underneath the irregular, percussive beep of my pulse monitor, there was another sound in the room. Drip. Drip.
It must have been raining hard enough outside that the roof was leaking.
Drip. Drip.
I focused in on the sound. The splash pitching deeper. I tracked the sound to the corner of the room and watched as the puddle grew.
The storm flashed again, lighting up the room. This time I didn't count. All of my focus was drawn to the puddle before me. It was black as ink. In a heartbeat, the room was plunged back into darkness.
No. It's not real. Not real...
I grabbed the glowing monitor and turned the screen toward the drip. The black puddle had spread, moving toward the wall. And up it. As if a figure was leaning against it. I closed my eyes, telling myself it was just a shadow cast off the IV pole.
"You're being stupid. Shadows can't get you," I told myself. I breathed deep and opened my eyes again.
The shadow had moved. It oozed and grew taller, separating from the wall to walk toward me.
"Found you." The shadow gurgled. "Run."
I didn't need to be told twice. Ignoring the pain, I ripped the IV from my hand and sprinted out of the room, taking the door away from the oozing, dark shadow.
"Nurse! Nurse!" I yelled.
Emergency lights on the ceiling swirled, and the spinning had a dizzying strobe effect. I staggered down the hall toward the illuminated exit sign. I pushed through the door and burst onto the landing. Then I looked over the railing. The stairwell leading down made my stomach lurch with vertigo, and I held my breath. A faint click sounded as the emergency lights started shutting off, floor by floor. The first floor went dark. Then the second. Then the third. I was on the fifth floor. Fleeing the darkness, I headed up to the roof, taking the stairs two at a time. I hit the exit door with a thud. It wouldn't budge.
I looked over my shoulder. The lights continued to snap off. Turning back to the exit, I could see a cyclone whipping through the city and toward the hospital through the small square window in the door. A streak of lightning shot down from the funnel.
The lightning was silver. And shaped like a woman.
"I told you I'd be back."
The last light in the stairwell went out, enfolding me in the darkness.