one
Hunched over her desk, meticulously sewing tiny beads onto a piece of hair-fine thread for an arts and crafts project, Samantha grit her teeth and strained her eyes in the bright light of her desk lamp. Hilde moaned and rolled over in her bed. With a sigh, Samantha set aside her half-finished bottle cover and stretched.
Good morning, she said to Hilde. Did you sleep well?
Mm. What are you doing in my room?
She smiled. Hee hee! Your desk lamp is better than mine. Guess what? Delilah's back and she brought candy.
Back? From where?
You didn't hear? She broke out last night, Samantha leaned over the back of her chair. But all she did was swamp Dr. Roberts' candy jar!
Hilde walked out of their room to the almost blinding shine of the hallway. Molly, Sweetwater Mental Institution's very own schizophrenic, was sitting on the back of the couch, eating her breakfast of a toaster waffle. When Hilde was close enough, she could see that she had it with peanut butter, and also that the Home Shopping Network was on TV.
Good morning, Molly, greeted Hilde. Did I miss anything?
They were selling the most beautiful diamondique earrings fifteen minutes ago!
At the pool table, Delilah was munching out of a box of Kix. There's my sunshine!
Yeah. They took the candy. But I still have a jar full if you want some.
Hilde sat down on the edge of the pool table, wearing her favored black sheep pajamas and a dazed smile, her eyes clouded with anti-depressants. She shook her head idly and folded her hands in her lap.
When no one looks the clouds come rolling in, sang out an unseen patient loudly. And under darkened skies the buildings grow big teeth and eyes!
You go, Carly!
She came trotting around the corner, high stepping. They breathe and walk through unending doors. Eating restaurants and barber shops and hardware stores! With catch phrases and jingles stealing, steel and concrete lies, the corridors of Babylon are craning for the skies. Carly stopped to make a sensual move of her hips and went on with the chorus, rousing the attention of the nurses on duty.
Krista, who had been lounging on top of a row of chairs from the discussion table, sat up and frowned. Nurse Polly! Carlene is bothering me! If she doesn't stop, she elongated the O in stop. I'm gonna go stab her with a ball point pen!
Polly stood up at her desk and went out, holding up her hands at Carly. Carlene, please don't. You know very well that your singing displeases Krista. If you want to sing, you can sing in the shower while Krista isn't in the bath house.
Hilde'd zoned out, not even noticing the serenade, remembering the night before the McMillen accident over one year ago.
Are you sure you don't want any cake, Duo? she'd asked.
He shook his head, curled up on the couch, fingering his hair. No thanks, babe.
Okay. But it's in the microwave if you end up wanting a piece.
Delilah started laughing hard, and Hilde slowly retreated back to the present. She looked over her shoulder, following Delilah's line of vision. Iris, the obsessive compulsive, and Carlene, the selective anarchist, were both grappling a CD case next to the stereo. Iris had most control over what seemed to be a Johnny Mathis CD, while Carly waved a Queen Jazz case.
Carly growled. We listened to your stupid Memory all day yesterday! I want to listen to something by Queen!
Get your dirty hands off of my CD!
No way! Not until you back off and let me put in what I want to listen to! You always get to choose!
A nurse, this time it was Beverly, came between them and took both cases from them. She looked at the stack and took out the James Taylor CD that everyone loved. She shooed the girls off, with Iris heading in the direction of the bathroom to disinfect her hands and her CD. The stereo let out a rhythmic acoustic plucking. Hilde didn't notice it, but her knees had gone week and she was slipping to the floor by the leg of the pool table. Her mind was so detached that she couldn't feel anything as the lip of the table left a red scrape down her back. A year at Sweetwater had done nothing more than amplify her problems and turn them into something clinical.
moaned Molly, shifting into another personality. What was the score between the Knicks and Bobby Labonte?
Robin looked over at Molly flatly. She blinked. Not one word. Frankly, Ellie Haveland hadn't said a single thing in her entire stay at Sweetwater. Everyone had their patterns at Sweetwater. Krista was a generic psychopath, as was Delilah. Samantha was bi-polar and Molly was schizophrenic. Carlene found her own ways to cope with society, evidently causing her to lash out or drop back into a childish state. Iris was obsessive compulsive, and Robin was mute and a pathological schemer.
Hilde was the second D.A.S. or depressed attempted suicide. She was also the only one who became depressed, and wasn't born with a chemical imbalance. Recession and emotional trauma due to a loss, as her shrink, Dr. Gilmore had said. The other D.A.S. was a self-punishing girl named Midii who fit into the masochistic side of psychopaths. But she was the only one that understood what Hilde was going through.
Molly, the Knicks are in basketball. And Bobby Labonte used to be a NASCAR driver, laughed Samantha. Emphasis on used.
Molly ignored her, which made Samantha a bit angry. Being overlooked was one of her pet peeves. Krista and Robin were playing cards, mostly because Krista could stand her silence. But Robin had a problem with playing dirty. She'd make an innocent face and pull two aces out of her sleeve.
You okay?
Yeah. Sure.
Hilde rubbed her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest on the couch next to Molly. Krista lit up a cigarette and puffed on it as Carlene threw her routine coughing fit.
I'm gonna go lay down, Hilde stated, getting up slowly.
Is that steak that I'm smelling?
Hilde smiled, carrying in a tray of steaks from the gas grill. Yes it is. I decided to give you a break. A nice celebration for your return from the Mariemaya coup.
He clasped his hands together. Just what I needed after all that. You don't have any idea how stressing it is to deal with Heero for that long.
I'm sure I understand how he feels, she muttered with a grin. He's got his own way of dealing with things, you know. Maybe silence is his way of retaliating against your ripe sarcasm.
I'm not sarcastic.
It's time for dinner, Hilde, nurse Laurey peeked inside. Don't you want anything to eat?
She rolled over. No. Just let me sleep.
The door shut and she was left in the dimming artificial light. I miss him too much... she repeated for the millionth time in her year long stay at Sweetwater. I don't want to wake up in the morning. Ever.
From the hallway outside she could hear someone walking. Mr. Shissle! Where's my little kitty?
Molly slid by Hilde's room and called for her imaginary pet cat. It had been a recent act, the cat. Dr. Wright said that it was Molly's subconscious helping her deal with the sickness she had. And he also said that Hilde was repressing what really happened. That she wouldn't accept the past. It was true that she only remembered choice things and kept an arm's length away from reality, and it was also true that she wasn't reacting to their treatments.
I was ready to die, she murmured, tears falling down her waxen cheeks from glazed eyes, but I could never, never be ready for you to die, Duo.
...to be continued...