The Way of the Waters

Nuns and Nurses

Thunder boomed around the atmosphere of our house, sending lightening bolts upon our mossy oak.

" Oh I just love me a thunder storm, "
The young woman walked into the comm room, hands gripping the wire crossing the window.

" Mrs. Mikhal I'm going to escort you back to the woman's ward now, come along "

June 8, 1976.

I was 12 now, and all of our patients grew quite fond of my assistance,

sometimes I would lower their lashing count to 20 when Sister Ala gave them 40.

Mrs. Mikhal was a slender young German woman, so bony that sometimes when she got up i would fear her bones would disintegrate under her 90 pound body.

I brought Mrs. Mikhal up to her room and pushed a stray hair behind her ear.

When I got back to the common room Nora was screaming down the hallway.

She ran into the common room, all shaken up and what not, grabbing the wire and struggling to rip it off the windows.

" I just want to see sunlight !" she screamed, voice trembling.

Patients stirred from their seats, some screaming, others tapping their feet, or laughing maniacally and clapping.

" I just need to see sunlight!"

Nuns and Nurses pulled her off of the window like meat on a bone.

Shrieks of terror filled the room as I reorganized the fallen magazines.

" The common room is a place of peace, where patients- not in solitude- may have touch with society in the least way possible."

Her voice turned stern and cold.

" But when that peace is broken , darling, all hell will rein loose ."

***

I visited Mrs. Peterson a few days after she was brought down from solitary.

She had a large pink scar across from her eyebrow to her hairline.

I rubbed the back of my hand across her sweaty forehead.

" May The Lord rest with you, deriving the homosexuality from your soul and leaving it with a demon to carry the bu-"

Her eyes fluttered open and rested on me.

Wails of terror left her mouth.

"noooo, shhh , shhh baby it's alright" I held her tight and calmed her down.

"Donna?" tears welled up in her eyes as she turned to face me.

" no Ms. Peterson it's-" she kissed my forehead continuously, gasping for air inbetween, a smile spread across her face.

" oh Donna, how I've missed my sweet baby girl ."

I left her bed side and went for the door, when I closed it her wails for her daughter filled the asylum.

"DONNA"

I had to inform my father of her newfound crazy.

I ran a fast as I could down to solitary, where my father was.

"DAD?!"

I ran corridor to corridor, pleading for my father.

I heard a woman screaming from room 4B.

I peered into the window to see my father over a patient.

I quietly opened the door, watching my father insert a razor into Constance Sharper's forehead.

He pulled the folds of skin back, Constance's eyes rolling back into her head, piercing screams leaving her mouth.

"LET ME GO" she screamed

"LET ME DIE"

My father smacked her aggressively
" shut the hell up !"

Blood trailed down her head and into the folds of the wrinkly skin on her neck.

Dad turned to look at me, blood splattered all over his apron.

A smirk rested on his face.

"ah," he sighed, motioning me to join him.

" just the little helper I needed."

He placed a scalpel in my hand.

" finish the opening. " his voice was stern and I felt a tear roll down my face.

I begged and pleaded for him to stop the surgery, to let me out , to give Ms. Sharper mercy; but he guided my hand- and the scalpel down to her ear.

" if you can't pray the crazy out,"
his cold eyes rested on me, staring into mine and sending a shiver down my spine,
" you cut it out."