Ch. 10 – These Prison Walls
It had been a few days since Jareth had been Aboveground but today he felt an odd longing to watch Sarah again. He kept telling himself that it was for the sake of his plan. He needed to study her, learn the best time to go to her, as well as the best way to go about it. That would require gathering as much information about her as he could – was there anything he could offer her? What could he use against her? He hoped that when they did face each other finally that simple reasoning would work, but he'd dealt with this girl before. Somehow it didn't seem likely. So he studied her, watched her.
He secretly hoped to himself, as he flew along his way, that she would sing again. There was something about her voice – it cut him to the bone. It grabbed a hold of him and he could almost swear that he felt her feelings as strongly as if they had originated with him.
He saw the familiar roof below him and dipped on one side to bring the rest of him swinging around as he swooped downward. At the last minute both wings were spread as far as they could reach, catching the air and swiftly slowing his descent. His talons reached for the branch below him – a flawless landing. The usual feeling of kingly pride at this latest display was abruptly cut short as he looked into Sarah's room and found it dark and cold. He skipped down the branch, closer to the window. The familiar scents of the room : lotions and ointments that smelled of apples and peaches (?), the spicy smell of incense, half-melted candles that smelled of apricot and ginger, or rain, or the sea; all were old, nearly gone, as if no one had even been in there for days.
'Where could she have gone?'
He peered in, looking for any clues that might be lying about. There were none.
'Has she journeyed somewhere?'
Jareth quickly flew to another tree, lower and in front of another window, where he could see into the living room.
'No, the rest of the family is still there.'
He knew that it was possible for Sarah to have gone somewhere by herself, but as far as he knew, she had little family, and even fewer friends, so it didn't seem very likely. He hoped that wherever she had gone, it was somewhere close by, maybe for the weekend or something. Maybe she'd be back soon, even today. He flew back up to his perch by her window, from where he'd be able to see her when she did arrive, and settled down to wait. To pass the time he thought of the sound of her voice. He let his mind wander back to the dance they'd shared and the look of wonder on her face as he'd sung to her. He ignored the gnawing feeling of dread that spoke of trouble. He sincerely hoped that Sarah was okay.
---
"No! Why do I have to take these?!"
"Sarah, calm down. This is what everyone takes. It's to help you sleep."
"I don't need any help sleeping."
The nurse sighed heavily and looked at her with tired eyes. "We're not going to go through this again. Sarah, you're going to take these pills or we're going to have to resort to an injected sedative like before. Your doctor knows you're taking them, she okay'd it, alright?"
The thought of the needle was enough to quiet Sarah, at least for now. She roughly grabbed the pills out of the nurse's hand, as well as the little paper cup of water.
"Let me see," the nurse said patiently.
Sarah rolled her eyes and did what she was asked. Feeling woozy she made her way to bed. She strongly disliked these pills she had to take. They left her disoriented and with no idea of how much time had passed. Days turned into nights and nights into days, and the hours swam. She lost all sense of time, woke up at all hours of the night. When the stuff finally would wear off and Sarah's thoughts became somewhat lucid again, the fear would set in. This place was really beginning to creep her out. The way they all smiled when she asked a question. The conversations that would cease when she approached, especially if Laurel was there. The missing hours that seemed to accumulate with each passing day. Sarah was afraid, afraid and very much alone.
---
"…yes, well she's extremely upset right now. She is definitely having a hard time wading her way through this mess of fantasy and reality… It might take a while, but we are trying our best. We're using state-of-the-art medications and programs to help us find the daughter you once knew… Mmhmm… Yes, I do believe you did the right thing. I'm just glad we caught it when we did, before she really hurt herself, or someone else… Anyway, I'll let you know more when I know more… Um, no I don't think that visiting is a good idea yet. Let's just wait until she stabilizes a little more… Okay, I will. Bye now."
Laurel set the receiver down and looked at the two others who sat with her in the little office she had set up. The others were the headmaster of the institute and Gertrude the nurse from Sarah's floor. Both looked at her expectantly.
"That was her father. I was expecting his call around now. He still thinks that his daughter doesn't really need to be here, but he shouldn't be too much of a problem." She looked at them and mouthed "pushover", to which the others chuckled.
"But what about the patient?" asked the headmaster, quickly becoming serious again. He nervously wiped his brow.
"Well David, she's not… insane, but there is a definite pathology there." She looked at him pointedly. "It is enough to keep her here, at least for a while."
"Good. Do you think there will be any problems from the insurance company?"
"There shouldn't be. They might send someone over to make sure everything is legitimate but it should be pretty easy to convince them of that. They're all just pencil pushers – they don't know anything about the mentally ill." She laughed briefly, "If worse comes to worse, I'll just show 'em her arms – that should shut them up."
David sat back, satisfied. Gertrude just nodded as she took notes.
---
"… so then we all peeked in the window and sure enough, she was asleep. It was so funny, her head was pushed over like this," Joely demonstrated as Sarah looked on, "and she was drooling everywhere. So we started laughing, and she woke up and saw us there. Boy, was she pissed!"
Sarah gave a small polite laugh. They were in the art/music room, but neither girl was doing much work. She kept looking at the piano until Joely finally noticed and said, "Okay, are you planning on drawing the piano, or do you actually want to play it?"
She smiled. "I don't know, maybe I'll play sometime. I was just thinking, I had a piano at home and I miss playing on it. But, I don't know – everyone is here."
Joely looked at her with a grin. "You should, no one will care. But… I don't think you will have time today. Looks like we have to go now. Yay therapy," she added sarcastically.
Sarah glanced up and sure enough the group was getting up and putting things away. The nurse was at the door.
"I wonder if they'll like my drawing." She held up the piece of drawing paper that she'd been handed upon entering the room. It had a few scribbles and a half-finished border, not much else. Joely laughed. They walked down the hall toward the TV room.
"Hey, they're putting on a movie tonight. You gonna come?"
"Um, that's okay. Maybe some other time," she replied, catching the look of disappointment and slight hurt that briefly crossed the other girl's face. She felt bad but she also felt that she couldn't afford to make any friends here. To do that would be to accept staying and the mere thought of that left Sarah with a feeling of panic. She didn't want to settle, she couldn't. She was leaving soon. She hoped.
---
Jareth sat on his branch and viciously ripped into the mouse he'd caught. He'd been here everyday for nearly a week, often staying long after dark. As reluctant as he was to leave at all, he knew he couldn't risk leaving his kingdom for too long right now. He knew what kind of trouble his goblins could get into when left to their own devices. They were already very confused by his odd behavior and frequent absences. So he sat here, day by day. She hadn't come home and now he feared the worst. He wished he knew where she was and if she was okay.
He felt strangely protective of her, and looked up at the stars and wondered for the hundredth time how it was that he'd fallen so hard. He'd watched her as a child. He'd admired her imagination, pitied her loneliness, but it was when she'd faced him with her curious blend of naivete and quiet wisdom, her innocence and strength that he'd been shaken to the very core. Even the fact that no one else could infuriate him the way she could was strangely exciting to him. Quite the opposite effect was this feeling of utter helplessness he now experienced. If she were in some sort of danger, he'd have no way to help her if he didn't even know where she was. When at home, in his castle, he spent most of his time trying to conjure her image in his crystals. She did appear frequently but it didn't help him much, as all he could ever see was her face. Her emotions were very strong now, and he saw anger, sadness and fear cross her features more than once. Mostly fear. That frightened him, as did the way she would sometimes be completely unreachable – the exact opposite of when she sang. Where her song would lend an almost three-dimensional quality to her, something was causing her to go completely numb. He would actually see this happen – she'd be really upset and then, nothing. She'd disappear and he'd be unable to see her for an alarmingly long time. This was happening a lot.
He finished his meager meal grimly. It sat in his stomach like a stone. He flew to a window on the other side of the house, one that was lit up, finding himself outside Sarah's parents' room. Hoping for a clue as to her whereabouts he landed on a branch and listened to the voices spilling out from the warm room.
"… she said we can't visit her right now. Too unstable or something." Robert sighed heavily. His unfocused eyes never left the TV set. Not that he had any idea what was on – he'd been staring mindlessly at it for hours, paying no attention, consuming drink after drink.
"I really wish you wouldn't insist on keeping that thing in here," Karen said sourly. "It's so noisy."
He turned it down, but only two or three notches, which made his wife scowl. "You said that it would be okay once Toby was old enough to sleep in his own room."
"So, what else did she say? Did she say what's wrong with her?"
He shrugged and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. "I dunno. She was pretty vague."
"Well, I guess the best thing to do is to just trust that Laurel will know what the best course of action is."
Robert just grunted. Karen stood by the door for a minute, watching him and then left to go tuck her son into bed.
Outside an owl blinked once and took to flight.
** Hi, one more thing before I go. I just wanted to make it clear that I am not trying to say there is anything wrong with mental health clinics and institutions. I think that most of them are really great places where a lot of good is done for those with special needs. They do a lot of good for people, and those that work there are very dedicated. This particular institution in my story however is not such a great place, as you are all finding out…