Chapter Twelve
Now
It's 7:15, and I'm trying for the third time to call Darry and Soda. I wonder where they are. Maybe I shouldn't be calling at all. Darry has enough to worry about, and I could always talk to Dr. Murphy. I don't think Dr. Murphy would understand though. He knows I'm worried about Aurora, but all he'll tell me is that they're doing all they can for her.
I was about to hang up when someone answered. "Hello?" It was Soda.
"Hey, Soda," I said.
"Pony! What's up?"
"I don't really know," I said. Now that I actually had someone to talk to, I realized that I didn't know what to say.
"Is this about Aurora?" Soda asked.
"Yeah. I could talk to Dr. Murphy, but he wouldn't understand," I said.
"Is she OK?" Soda asked.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"So she still doesn't know who Steve and I are?" he asked.
"No. She doesn't even remember what happened yesterday. You know, when you all came and talked to her," I said.
"She doesn't?" Soda asked.
"No," I said. "They say that they're doing all they can for her, but she'll probably never get out of here. I don't know what to do. I want to help her, but…"
"I know. But I don't think there's much you can do," Soda said. "And if they say they're doing all they can, then they are."
This wasn't the response I had expected. I thought that Soda would make me feel better somehow, but he wasn't. Darry wouldn't be much help either.
"Pony, you still there?" Soda asked.
"Yeah, I'd better go. I'll see you Sunday," I said.
I hung up the phone. The office had pretty much cleared out, there were a few secretaries finishing up last minute work. Other than them, though, there was no one there. My eyes fell on something shiny on the desk in front of me. A letter opener. Whoever worked there must have forgotten to lock it up.
My mind drifted back to before I was in the Asylum. When I was depressed, and I would cut myself. I remembered that it made me feel better. I had gotten a bit better when they found Aurora, but now that I knew that she was never leaving the asylum; I was depressed again. I picked up the letter opener and put it in my jacket pocket. I might need it later.
Later That Night
Not many people are up at 1:00 AM, but I am. There's a hall monitor that's fallen asleep at her post. I walked past her and toward the bathroom. The letter opener was still in my jacket pocket.
The bright lights and the white tile walls blinded me for a minute when I walked in. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I went into a stall and locked the door. I took the letter opener out of my pocket and rolled up my jacket sleeve.
Letter openers are sharper than you might think, and they cut just as good as a knife. I pressed the letter opener into my wrist. I started carving random patterns: straight lines, squiggly lines, the letter "A". It felt good to cut again; all my troubles melted away. Fuck Dr. Murphy. Who needs him? I can cut.
By the time the bleeding stopped, and I got back to my room it was almost 2:30. I lay down and stared at the ceiling. That was when I remembered that they had cameras in the rooms.
"Crap," I said out-loud. They would know that I had left; they may have even seen the letter opener.
I watched the door, waiting for someone to come in and take me away, but they never did. I eventually fell asleep.
Dr. Murphy's Sessions with Ponyboy Curtis
Doctor Murphy: Ponyboy…
Ponyboy Curtis: Yes…
DM: I think you have some explaining to do.
PC: What do you mean?
DM: You know what I'm talking about Ponyboy.
PC: I do?
DM: You stole a letter opener off Mrs. Moran's desk last night. Then you cut yourself with it.
PC: no response
DM: Where is the letter opener, Ponyboy?
PC: Here. He takes the letter opener out of his jacket pocket
DM: Needless to say, Ponyboy, I'm disappointed in you. Stealing, lying, cutting. You were making so much progress. Why did you do it?
PC: I don't know.
DM: You're lying again.
PC: Are you sure that you have the right person. That that's really Aurora?
DM: She's bothering you?
DM: I don't know what to say, Ponyboy. You're depressed when she's here, and you're depressed when she's not. What do you think we should do?
PC: I don't know! I thought that she'd come back; I'd get out of the asylum, and everything would be like it was before. If I'd known that she'd be like this…
DM: I understand, but I'm still disappointed. Your brothers will be notified.
PC: Do you have to? Darry has enough to worry about.
DM: You should have thought about that before.
PC: I didn't think you'd tell them.
DM: Part of the agreement is that we notify the parents or legal guardians of any progress or digression.
PC: sigh OK, fine.
DM: Your stay will be extended two weeks.
PC: Alright.
DM: I'll talk to you more tomorrow.
End tape
