Chapter 18
Deja had never been this afraid of anyone in her entire life. This was not the Mort she knew. She didn't know what was going on. She had backed herself into a corner and Mort was steadily approaching her. She slid down the wall and brought her knees up to her chest. She buried her head into her knees hoping that when she looked up Mort would be gone. No such luck.
Mort was now hovering over her as she began to tremble and cry. "Mort, please...you're really scaring me!" she had no where to turn to, all she could do was plead with him not to hurt her. He leaned down and began running his fingers through her hair. Deja was too afraid to look up. She didn't want to see those cold eyes of his staring back at her.
She silently begged him to stop. She knew she could get through to him. She was unsure of what exactly was going on and who this Shooter person was. Just then, she remembered hearing the name John Shooter before. From Diana. He was the man that Mort claimed was stalking him a few years back. He was the one that Mort was convinced had done something to Amy. Deja was more confused than ever before.
Just then she heard Mort walk out of the room. She jumped up and rushed to the door, but it was locked. She wasn't going anywhere. She made her way onto the bed and laid there in the fetal position, crying. She was trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. But nothing was making sense. Was Mort this Shooter person all along? Had he killed all those people? Or did he just now take on this Shooter persona? It was all too confusing for her. In the midst of her anguish she managed to fall into a deep sleep.
Deja had woken up about two hours later and it was pitch black outside. She felt completely disoriented and her head was pounding. She got up from the bed and walked to the door, she turned the handle and it opened. She poked her head outside to search for Mort. The house was completely still. She knew she had to get out of there. She loved Mort, but there was only so much she could deal with. She figured he needed time on his own to get himself right.
She quietly made her way downstairs. She figured if she could get to her cell phone she could call a cab to come pick her up. She could make her way down the road and have the cab pick her up there. She spotted her phone out of the corner of her eye. A wave of relief came over her. As she walked toward the coffee table to get her phone she heard a noise from the kitchen. Turning around she saw Mort sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand. Damn! she thought.
"Hi, hon," he said casually, "Getting ready to call someone?"
Deja noticed he wasn't speaking with the southern accent. And his eyes didn't peer at her coldly anymore. "I...was...um...," she was at a loss for words. "Nothing, I was just looking for you." She didn't want him to know how scared she was. She was trying to play things cool. Maybe she could get away after things had smoothed over. She walked towards the kitchen and had a seat across from Mort.
"Are you feeling any better?" he asked.
She gave him a confused look. She had no idea what he was talking about.
"Excuse me?" she questioned.
"Well, I came up earlier to check on you and you must've been in the middle of a nightmare. I tried to wake you, but couldn't," he replied.
"You're joking right?" Deja knew Mort had to be lying.
"Um..no...why would I be joking?" he said, befuddled.
"You had me locked in the room! After turning psycho on me!" Deja felt good to finally get that out.
"Psycho? What are you talking about Deja?"
"Oh, so you conveniently forgot how you screamed at me about Amy's robe and how you claimed to be that guy Shooter!" Deja was attacking Mort in full force now. She was angry that he'd try to pretend like none of that happened.
"Deja," he said, "I do remember getting a little upset about Amy's robe," A little upset? Deja thought, "but what do you mean about me pretending to be Shooter? I'm really confused right now?"
"You're confused! How do you think I feel right now?" Mort could tell she was becoming irate. He needed to calm her down.
"Let me just explain to you the way things happened. Maybe it'll refresh your memory."
"My memory isn't the one that needs refreshing!" she yelled back at him. She was becoming upset all over again. She knew what had happened. He wasn't about to turn this around on her and make her think she was going crazy. That part of her life was over and she wasn't going down that road again.
"Listen," Mort said, interrupting her thoughts, "let me just explain things to you."
Deja didn't want to listen, but what other choice did she have? She decided to give Mort the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, fine."
"I thought you'd lost Amy's robe and yes I did become upset. And I apologize for that. I didn't think that robe still meant so much to me. I guess it was just pent up feelings coming out. Anyway, you went downstairs and found it. I came downstairs and I was so happy you'd found it and I felt like such an ass for raising my voice to you that I began apologizing profusely." He began laughing. "Anyway, you said you forgave me and that you had a terrible headache. I told you to go upstairs and try and sleep it off. After about 90 minutes or so I came up to check on you. You were tossing and turning like crazy. It actually scared me. I tried waking you but it was no use. I figured I'd just let you ride it out. And that's what happened."
Deja was thrown. She didn't know what to think now. Mort had to be telling the truth, he knew nothing of her nightmares. It had been quite some time since she'd imagined her dreams were reality. Ten years ago to be exact. She hoped she wasn't having a relapse.
Deja had excused herself from the kitchen and gone back upstairs to bed. She needed to do some heavy thinking. The only way she could clear up what was going on was to go back to when she was 16 years old. She didn't want to remember that time in her life because it was a difficult one for her, but she needed to recall it to go forward.
Deja had been admitted into the Warvey County Mental Institution just 12 days ago. She was still numb from everything that had gone on. She didn't want to be there, but her mother had told her it was in her best interest.
She'd been having a difficult time adjusting to her high school. The kids picked on her because she was the new kid and kept to herself. She'd never been picked on or bullied before, but there's a first time for everything. Deja did her best to hide her pain from her mother, but after getting into a fight with a few of the girls from school, her face showed her troubles.
Janice took it upon herself to
talk to the principal and teachers. She wanted the parents of the
other girls involved as well. She wasn't about to let her daughter
be mistreated in the safe haven that school is supposed to be.
Janice had thought things had gotten better, but it's just that
Deja became better at hiding her distress.
The girls Deja had gotten into a fight with found out about their parents meeting with Deja's mother and the principal. They were none too happy. For the next two months or so, they tormented Deja every single day. She began to skip school on a regular basis to get away from it all. One day after being forced to attend school by her mother, who had found out Deja was skipping, she decided she would take her own life. She knew things would never get better at this new school and she was tired of the abuse. Her mother kept all their over the counter medication in her bathroom cabinet and she kept the liqueur in the wet bar in the dining room. Deja figured she could OD on those things and put an end to all of this.
After putting her plan into action, she went to lie down on her bed along with a note apologizing to her mother. Deja never expected to wake up after falling asleep, but she did. She awoke to a sterile, white room. She could barely move, but managed to open her eyes. After studying her surroundings she came to the conclusion she was in a hospital room. Then she noticed her mother sitting in a chair across the room. She was fast asleep. Deja wondered just how long she'd been out of it.
"Mom?" she said groggily. "Mom?" her voice still wasn't strong, but she managed to stir her mother.
"Oh my God!" Janice rushed to her side, "You're awake! Thank God, I was so worried."
"How long have I been here?" Deja asked.
"For two days," her mother replied sadly, "Deja...why would you want to take your own life?"
The tears began to stream down Deja's face. "I'm sorry mom, I didn't want to hurt you...but my life...it's just not going well..."
"Honey, I knew you had problems, but I didn't think they were this bad. I've been talking with some of the doctors here and they know of a good place where you can work out your issues..." she drifted off.
"What kind of place?" Deja asked, becoming worried.
"A hospital, if you will, for teens that have...issues."
"A mental hospital!" Deja was becoming worried. She needed to be at home with her mom, not in some loony bin. "Mom, please don't put me in there," she begged.
She could see the tears begin to well up in her mother's eyes. "Deja, I have to...I...I can't handle this on my own." And with that her mother began to weep like a child. She was breaking down and Deja didn't want anything to happen to her mother. She decided to cooperate and go along with her mother's decision.
Within two weeks Deja was checking into Waverly. She was pretty nervous because she wasn't sure of what type of people to expect here. She decided to blame those thoughts on too much television and to give this place a fair shot.
12 days had passed and she was finally coming down from the high of medication she'd been on since her arrival. The doctors and nurses had told her it was mandatory, and not wanting to cause any trouble she didn't put up a fuss.
She was scared to be in this place with no friends or relatives to turn to. She wasn't sure of when she'd be able to speak with her mother again, and that was the scariest thought of all. Her body was telling her it was time to eat. She slipped out of the bed and noticed she was wearing a hospital gown. Her sweat pants and T-shirt were draped over a chair in her room. She quickly changed clothes and headed out of the room.
This was the first time she ventured out of her room alone and not sedated. As she headed in the direction where she figured the food was she passed many curious faces. None of these people seemed 'crazy' to her, but she was still uneasy. She walked with her eyes to the ground, when a girl walked directly in front of her.
The young, blonde woman stood in front of Deja and would not budge. Deja tried walking around her, but every step she took this woman took.
"Can I help you?" Deja asked, hoping to get rid of the girl.
"I'm Debbie."
"And?" Deja was in no mood for casual conversation.
"I'm trying to introduce myself," she said in an annoyed tone.
"Well, I'm not really up for introductions." Deja began to walk back to her room. Debbie decided to follow her.
"Look, you're gonna need some friends in here," Debbie said.
"And why is that?"
"The last girl that had no one but herself ended up at State," she stated, matter of factly.
"And?" Deja inquired.
"State's no place to be. This place is like a luxury suite compared to that."
"Well, Debbie," Deja said, looking Debbie square in the eyes, "I think I'll take my chances alone." And with that she went back into her room and closed the door.
Deja spent the next couple of months in solitary. She only left her room to fulfill her basic needs and for group counsel. Other than that she didn't bother with any of the other girls there. Debbie had seemed nice enough, but about a month after their meeting she had successfully committed suicide. Deja figured she was her only chance at a friend in this place.
Janice had come to visit Deja a few times and was happy with the progress her daughter was making. She wanted Deja to make friends while she was at Waverly, but knew that it would be a slow process. Deja was such a quiet person and since the incident at her last school, she'd become very passive and meek.
It had been about two full months since Janice had last come to visit Deja. She hadn't called in quite some time either. Deja was going completely insane with no one but the doctors to talk to. She desperately needed her mother, but didn't dare voice her concerns to the staff. They'd only use it against her to keep her there longer and she couldn't have that.
On that same day was when 'she' showed up. Deja was sitting in her room, fantasizing about what life would be like once she left Waverly, when she looked up and a young, red-haired girl appeared in front of her.
"How'd you get in here!" Deja was frightened by the girl's sudden appearance.
"You let me in," she said in a hushed voice.
"No I didn't. I've been sitting on my bed for the last hour or so," Deja answered.
"Then how'd I get here?" the girl asked, turning things around on Deja.
"That's a good question. But I'm more concerned with getting you out!" And with that Deja ran to her door and called for hospital security. No one came. The hallway was dark and seemed to be totally empty.
Just then the girl creeped up behind her, "They're not coming."
"Oh yes they are!" Deja yelled back. "You are gonna be in so much trouble."
"We'll see..." And with that, the girl moved past Deja and walked down the hall until she reached another room and entered it.
"What a weird girl," Deja mumbled to herself. She got into her bed and took a much needed nap.
In therapy that same day, Deja brought up the new girl. "So who's the red head?" she asked Jenna, the only person, besides the staff, that ever gave Deja a smile.
"Who?" Jenna asked, confused.
"You know the weird, new girl. She's got the long red hair all the way down her back?"
"No one new has been admitted in over a week," Jenna stated.
Just then Dr. Prince and two of the other patients joined them for their weekly group meeting. Before getting started, Deja decided to ask Dr. Prince about the new girl. But he'd never heard of her either.
Deja began to see the girl more often now. She called herself Patty. She was indeed a patient here, but no one else at Waverly seemed to know of her. Or at least they were making it seem that way. Deja was not going crazy, but to appease her doctors concerns she took the hallucination medicine they added to her list.
From what her doctor had told her, Patty was a figment of Deja's imagination. Deja would go to sleep and dream about Patty and wake up thinking it was all real. The doctors had told her that teens with severe emotional issues, that tended to keep to themselves, often made up imaginary people to keep them company.
Deja went along with the doctors' 'story' because she wanted out of Waverly. She felt like this place would only make a person crazier. She told them everything they wanted to hear, including the fact that Patty was gone. Which was a total lie. Deja was let out of Waverly about 11 months after her admittance. And for the next two years, Patty would still come to visit.
Deja wasn't sure what it was that made Patty leave. But all of a sudden her nightmares ceased. It was like she woke up one day as a brand new person. Although she was glad to be freed of this enigma, she also felt sadness. Patty had become a huge part of her being. Although she could only see her in her dreams, she always woke up remembering everything that happened. Her dreams had truly become reality, in her mind at least.
Now that Deja was a grown woman, she couldn't believe she might be dealing with these issues all over again. True enough, Patty wasn't in her dream, but Mort still said that she was asleep when she 'imagined' what had happened between the two of them earlier that day. And she'd never told anyone about her trip to Waverly. There was no way Mort could have known about that.
Deja was completely exhausted thinking about the events of the past day. After about another 40 minutes of wondering what could have really happened, she finally drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
