Asylum

Broken

I must have passed out.

Nurse Penny isn't here anymore and the window is back. I'm not tied to some rickety old hospital bed but rather sprawled on the ground by a rickety old institution bed. What in the world is happening to me?

One minute, I'm Chloe, the next I'm me. Or is me Chloe? I'm so confused.
I try to get up, but my left leg is failing me. I look down and my ankle is twisted in a way that isn't human. Great. I army-crawl my way over to the door and relentlessly pound on the wood. My knuckles are bleeding bruised and blistered by the time help comes.

Nurse Penny walks through the door. No, scratch that. This can't be nurse penny. But I don't have another nurse, do I?

"Who are you right now, sweetie?" What's-her-name says in a bored voice.

"Huh?"

"Who are you?" It's a simple question, I guess. Yet it's so hard for me to wrap my head around it.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Who are you?" She repeats, like a broken record player. Not that I know what a record player actually is. It's just something I've heard people say, I guess.

"IM CYNTHIA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" I yell, suddenly aggravated, "CANT YOU TELL?!?"

She pats my head like I'm some sort of a pet and tells me that everything is going to be alright.

"So, now that I know which one you are, what did you need me for?"
Which what?

"My ankle." I say, gesturing. A look of disgust crosses over her face when she looks down towards my left foot.

"That's a doozie, alright!" She kids, as she pulls out her walkie-talkie.

"I'm going to need a stretcher and another nurse down at room 217, please. ASAP." She says into the little black device.

"They'll be here in a minute, Cynthia. You just hang tight, okay?" She says.

"Yeah sure whatever," I reply, already lost in my own thoughts. I can see a bee buzzing around the room, and I feel the adrenaline rushing through me as the bee gets closer- I have an extremely severe allergy to bees.

"Ms. Nurse person?"

"Yes, Chl-Cynthia?"

"There's a bee."

The nurse gets up and walks around the room, searching for the six-legged intruder. She struts over to the window, and walks right through the bee.

"Can't you see it?" I ask frantically, as beads of sweat roll down my forehead.

"No, Cynthia. I can't." She comes back over and sits down next to me.

The bee is still inching towards me, and I let out a scream when it lands on my nose. The nurse jumps up.

"Cynthia what's wrong?"

"The bee! The bee! It's on me!!!!!!"

"There's no bee, sweetie." Just like that, the bee vanishes. I stare at my nose, astounded, while the nurse giggles at my crossed eyes.

"But..." I trail off. There isn't a point in finishing that sentence. "What just happened?" I ask.

"Look sweetie, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you are not where you think you are."

"I'm not in an insane asylum?"

"Well, yes, you are. Do you know why?"

"Because of what happened at school?"

"Sort of. It's more, the reason that happened."

"What's the reason, then?" I say, slightly amused by our banter by now.

"You are... Mentally challenged."

"Or in other terms, insane?"

"Yes." Wow. Way to be discrete about it. I start to cry, and my cheeks feel sticky as hot salty 'water' rushes down them. I almost expect that little voice to pop into my head and comfort me, but I know that that's stupid to wish for.

"Hey sweetie?"

"What the hell do you want?"

"We can fix you." My lip turns upwards in disgust at this offer. We can fix you. As if I'm just some toy that an eight year old dropped on the ground. We can fix you. As if I'm just some broken record on replay. We can fix you.

"So I'm broken?" I ask, coldly turning away from her.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"And how are you supposedly going to 'fix' me?"

"You just have to remember which one you are."

"WHICH WHAT!?!?!?" I scream.

"Are you really Cynthia? Or could you be Chloe?"

"Whose Chloe?" I ask, the tears beginning to rise again.

"I think you know very well who she is, darling."

"Go away. Leave me to my broken self."

"As you wish, but I'll be back with the stretcher." She exits, and I hold my breath until I can finally hear the faint click of the door being locked.

I run over her words in my head, over and over as I pick at the fresh scabs on my knuckles. I begin to bleed. A lot. The red fluid gushes out onto my carpeting, creating a new blood stain to comfort me when they come. So much blood... So.... Much... Blood..... Wow, I feel... Kinda, woozy.

I fall face first into the puddle of red.