“What is it?” I ask the nurse. I look at her closely. She’s not my usual nurse, and I always get medication in my room, not in the hall.
“Just take it.” She pushes it into my hand. She’s strong for someone so petite. “Rice said he’d tell you I was coming.”
My mind races. I take a step back, startled. My mouth hangs open in amazement. Kay.
“You’ve come for me?” My heart is pounding. She’s going to help me escape. Relief floods over me. I won’t have to suffer anymore. I won’t have to live in constant fear of my impending electroshock therapy.
Kay stares at me. “I’m sorry, kiddo, no. I just came to give you the pill.”
“But you’re supposed to help me.” I open my mouth to say more, but she shakes her head, silencing me.
“I set it up so there’s a blind spot in the cameras but we only have a few minutes.” She glances down at her watch.
“When are you getting me out of here?” I ask, pleading.
“For now, take the pill.” Her voice is stern.
I nod and put the pill in my mouth, swallowing it with a dry cough.
“Good girl.” Kay leans in. “I’ll get you more later. This was all I could manage for now. We need you clear if we’re going to . . .” A nurse walks down the hall, past us, and Kay pretends to consult a chart.
“When?” I ask again, frustration in my voice.
“Just be ready,” she tells me, looking over her shoulder.
I don’t want her to go, not without me. All the exhilaration I felt moments earlier has turned to panic. “Please, take me with you now,” I beg.
“It’s too risky,” she tells me sadly. “We’ll come back for you.”
I nod unhappily.
“Keep safe,” she says before walking down the hall, her head bent low, and disappearing around the corner.
I stare after her with mixed emotions. “We’ll come back for you,” she’d said. I can’t leave just yet, but it’s finally begun.
PART THREE
GUARDIANS
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
My mother comes to visit me today and she brings Adam. I’m happy to see them both. Adam shows me his new toy, a hand-me-down plastic dinosaur he scored from a Class Three boy who’d outgrown it. I play with Adam on the floor of my room while my mother sits on the bed, watching us.
I know the pill that Kay gave me has worked. I’m still a little groggy, but I’m much clearer than I’ve been in a long time. I turn to my mother and ask, “How long have I been here?”
“It’s been almost half a year since you’ve come to New Hope.” She smiles at me encouragingly. “And I’m grateful for every moment.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean here, in the Ward.”
She reaches out and fixes a stray hair that has settled on my forehead. “Your hair is getting a lot longer, maybe I can find out about getting you a haircut?” When I don’t reply, she sighs loudly. “You’ve only been in the Ward a little over a month, honey.”
So I’ve lost an entire month. What has been going on in New Hope without me? “Why am I in here?” I blurt.
“You’re here to get the help you need.” She doesn’t even think before she speaks.
“I know . . . but why specifically? Help for what?” I push.
She studies me. “I . . .” She pauses, then says, “Dr. Reynolds believes you need to be monitored. You were acting erratically.”
“Erratically? What did I do?” I wish all my memories would come back. I wish Kay could have given me more pills. If I could only have a few days without any medication, without the constant confusion. What did I do that was so bad they put me in here and drugged me into a zombie?
“Amy . . . let me talk to Dr. Reynolds about this.” My mother kneels down on the floor next to us.
“No. I’d really prefer it if you didn’t,” I tell her, trying to meet her gaze, but she looks away.
“I just want you to get well.”
I’m not reassured at all. “But what if I’m not getting better?” I ask.
“Don’t say that.”
I play with Adam for a few more minutes, then my mother has to leave. She promises to come back soon and kisses me on the head. Adam waves good-bye with his chubby hands and gives me a wide smile.
After a few seconds, I hear my mother speaking to Dr. Thorpe in the hall, about the questions I’ve asked and about my course of treatment. Dr. Thorpe’s voice is strained as she explains I am relapsing. I hear my mother begin to sniffle. She must be crying.
When Dr. Thorpe comes in, she takes my vitals and writes in my chart.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“I feel . . .” I don’t know what she’s looking for. “I feel fine.” I say at last.
“And the memory loss?”
“Things are coming back to me slowly.”
“Do you remember coming to the Ward?”
“Not yet,” I admit, uncertain.
“I’m very concerned,” she tells me. “The meds that Dr. Reynolds has prescribed seem to be having an adverse effect. Your condition is deteriorating. I’ve decided, under Dr. Samuel’s recommendation and with the urging of Dr. Reynolds, to begin your electroshock treatments tomorrow.”
She sees the horror on my face and continues hastily, “It’s not as bad as you might think. You’ll have an initial worsening of your memory. . . .”
I shake my head. “No.” I can’t return to how I was, not knowing the difference between dreams and reality.
“But that will only last for a few days. The therapy could be very beneficial to your psychosis.”
“Can I refuse treatment?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I begin to shake, fear and frustration taking over my body. I have no control. I have nothing.
Dr. Thorpe sighs. “Amy, I’m only trying to help you. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll send a nurse in to give you a sedative.”
“No, I’m fine.” I try to relax, but my body still trembles. I can’t even control my own muscles. Dr. Thorpe leaves and a nurse comes in to give me a shot. I try to stay awake, struggling against the darkness. There is so much I don’t remember but what little I do, I don’t want to forget.
I got up before the alarm and listened for my mother, who always left the house around five a.m. Two weeks had flown by, between class and training and babysitting. I was finally getting used to waking up at first light, instead of going to sleep at daybreak.
Going running? Baby asked when I got out of bed. Even though I tried not to wake her, she still heard me every morning.
I need to practice, I signed into her hand. She hadn’t even bothered to open her eyes.