The dark room was her new home. Jude had gotten out of Briarcliff. Now she was in a small apartment that she got with the small amount of money in her name.
It didn't matter where she was though. She had tried moving on, and she had tried forgetting, but it wasn't working. Every night, she had the nightmares. She was forced to constantly remember. She couldn't take it anymore. The guilt, the feeling of uselessness. It was all too much to bare anymore.
Jude currently sat in an over stuff chair. A table next to her with a record player, a shot of scotch, and cigarette and lighter. Her rosary was still in her hand since she had finished her final prayer.
The silence was starting to bother her as she thought back on her life. It was never easy. She was an only child with a single parent. That was a lonely life. Her only friends were the ones that she made up, the animals that she found. The other kids made fun of her for her father leaving, they would call her the defect child. The only one that chase her own father away from herself.
It wasn't until she was older that things got better. The boys started noticing her and she liked the attention. The job as a singer was perfect for her. She would go around from bar to bar, getting to sing, getting boys to buy her drinks. It paid the rent and got her a night out to have fun.
One of those nights out, she met someone, someone special. Casey. He was going to marry her. She would remain faithful to him and they would start a family together. She was finally ready to settle down and start a life with someone. Of course, things change. She contracted syphilis and he called her a whore, the last thing he ever said to her. She could never have kids and she had just lost the man that she loved.
That was when the drinking became a problem. That was when it escalated. It all lead to the night that she hit the little girl on her bike. The night that even though the girl lived, she still felt guilty over. She hit a little girl and then left without even making sure that she was okay. In her mind, she could make up every excuse in the world, and it would never be good enough.
With tears forming in her eyes, Jude leaned over and started playing the record, the one song that even though it tortured others, she still liked. Dominique.
Monsignor Timothy Howard may have hurt her. He may have tossed her aside like a piece of trash, but there were parts of being a nun that she did enjoy. It was when she had found some sort of meaning in her life. Whether it be real or not, it was still meaning and it was more than going out to drink to forget the latest problems.
She gingerly grabbed the shot glass and held it up, silently offering the drink to all those who died in Briarcliff. To everyone that she had wronged through the years. Specifically one person, Lana. She wasn't really sure where that woman was now, but she hoped that she was doing a hell of a lot better than she was now.
Jude threw her head back and gulped the drink. The painful memories flooding back to her. The night that Pepper died, the night that she screamed at the nurse calling her a lying bitch. Trying to save Mary Eunice, her pure, innocent soul and failing. At a time while everything was at its last straw with her, she just couldn't bare to see such a young, innocent woman's soul be taken over like that. She couldn't stand to let him have her.
The time that Timothy told her that he would get her out of there, and here she was, still waiting to hear from him.
Timothy Howard, another man she loved. Another man that hurt her. The one man that she thought would support her, had betrayed her.
She had to get rid of those thoughts. There wasn't time to think of those things. They didn't even matter anymore.
Instead, she lit the cigarette. The patients that she hadn't heard anything about, she wondered where they were. Whether or not they were still alive. They could have been moved to other asylums. That was possible. And really, she didn't care. As long as it wasn't Briarcliff, it had to be better than that place. That was the one thought that gave her some comfort.
The song was finally coming to an end, and so was her cigarette. She gave one last thanks to the man who actually got her out of that place, Kit, and set the cigarette down in the ash tray.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to do go through with her promise. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the gun. There was only one bullet loaded. That was all she needed.
Tightly, she closed her eyes as she nervously lifted the gun and pointed it to her head. Her thoughts were finally focused on something else now. The hope that this wouldn't hurt, the peace that she was finally getting. The peace that she had been longing for, for so long.
Without any hesitation, she finally pulled the trigger. Her hand falling limp as Dominique played its final notes.
Judy Martin, was now able to rest. She was now getting the peace that she had been searching for her entire life.