I blink.
She's still standing in the door.
I blink again. She's still there.
She stares at me for a moment, and I see what I can only assume is shock in her eyes, but she recovers and shuts the door before moving to sit in the chair across from me. She states at me for another couple of minutes before opening her mouth.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Nice, she's still the same lovely girl.
"Well, if you were to look at that chart on the table, you'd see that I'm severely depressed, and a PTSD patient. Of course that would mean you would have to have something to do with me, so I completely understand if you don't want to mess up your manicure on my account."
I am not the same lovely girl.
Rosalie looks taken aback by my sarcasm, "I don't recall you being this forward."
"Going crazy does funny things to a girl, I seem to be past the point of giving a shit about what people think of my forwardness."
I am not entirely sure where my animosity is coming from. Rosalie is right, I have never been this forward. I blame my reaction on shock, and a mild amount of fear as to what her presence means.
She takes my chart off the table and her eyes flick over it, but I know she's read every word. I wonder how she's going to play this. Maybe she'll just silently stare at me for the next ten minutes before disappearing out of my life for a second time. A large part of me would prefer that to any other course of action.
"Your chart says you have near constant nightmares when you're not medicated, what are they about?"
I wince, she had to go right for the jugular. Not surprising really if you think about it.
"What do you think they're about Rosalie? I'll give you a hint they're not about showing up to class in my underwear."
I really don't know where this sarcastic streak is coming from. I haven't been anything but agreeable since I entered the center.
She glares at me, as if to condemn me for having the audacity to be a wiseass with her.
I decide that she can either deal with it, or get the hell out.
She asks me the cookie cutter list of questions that the other students asked me. I answer sarcastically as often as I can, getting some sort of sick pleasure out of making her like just a little bit harder.
She wraps up the questions and seems to consider something for a moment before she speaks again.
"I need more time to talk to you, without, prying eyes and ears around… I think you just became my thesis."
She gets up and walks out before I can say anything. A few seconds later Tommy walks in to take me back to my room. I haven't touched my dinner.
I wake up and look at the clock on the wall. I have fifteen minutes before Tommy will come in with breakfast, pills, and fresh scrubs. Most mornings I just lie in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for Tommy to come. Today I decide to use the time to form a plan for how to deal with the Rosalie situation.
I realize that I think so much clearer when I'm not on the drugs they give me, I remember why I ate the fog so much. They have made a mistake by taking me off of them for the interviews. For the last week they've been giving me the new pills while I'm still somewhat doped up from the earlier batch. I've been a good little patient and it has made them relax around me, they think that they don't have to watch me as closely as they once did.
They are wrong.
I know that if I'm going to deal with the Rosalie situation I'm going to need a clear head. I know that I cannot have a clear head if I take the drugs. Therefore, I cannot take the drugs.
It's simple logic really.
Tommy comes in and I pretend to still be asleep. He lightly shakes my shoulder and I act like I'm slowly waking up.
"Hey there sleepy head, did all of your visitors yesterday wear you out or something?"
Yes… my visitors. I nod my head and ask that he leave me alone to change, I claim need a few minutes before I eat and he agrees.
He sets down the runny eggs, child safety glass of juice and pills before exiting the room. I quickly change and put the pills in the sleeve of the long sleeved shirt I wear underneath the scrubs. Then I move the disgusting eggs around on the plate to make it look like I've eaten some and I drink half of the juice.
A nameless female orderly comes in to take me to the bathroom to freshen up. I flush the pills down the toilet before I take a quick shower. The orderly takes me back to my room. I stare at the wall until Tommy comes in to take me to my session with Dr. Snow.
As I walk down the white hallway I try to think of how I'll convince Dr. Snow I'm still on my meds. It is easy to fool Tommy because I never talk much around him, my behavior patterns stay regular regardless of what drugs I'm on. But Dr. Snow knows better, he will look for medical proof I'm taking the pills if he has any reason to suspect I've been untruthful about my medication. I can't fake pupil dilation or my heart rate. I can however fake docility.
I enter Dr. Snow's office and immediately sit in my usual chair across from him.
"Good morning Bella. How did you enjoy having visitors yesterday?"
I resist the urge to laugh at his characterization of the gawkers. Instead I smile sweetly, and speak in a soft voice.
"It was very nice to see some new faces Dr. Snow."
The doctor smiles and nods at me.
"Well Bella, it seems that you made quite the impression on one of the students. A Miss Hale has requested that she be allowed to do her dissertation on you. Is that something you'd be interested in Bella?"
I smile and nod, drugged Bella likes to please people, she likes to do whatever is easiest. "Yes Dr. Snow, I would like that."
"Excellent," he makes a not on my chart, "well, let me just tell you a little bit about what this would entail. Miss Hale has requested that you be allowed to stay in her family home for a period of three weeks. Her father is a prominent doctor, and he would be responsible for you medically during this time. You will still be coming to your sessions with me, but they will take place once a week instead of every other day, and we will have longer sessions."
I try not to freeze up at the thought of entering the Cullen house. As far as Dr. Snow knows, I have no idea who the Cullens are. I come up with a reasonable sounding excuse.
"What does my father have to say about this?"
Dr. Snow smiles indulgently, "Bella, can you tell me, when was the last time your father visited you?"
I try to remember, but I can't recall.
"I don't know."
"Bella, for the last few months your father hasn't come to see you at all. He has turned you fully over into the care of this facility. He has very little to say on this matter."
I stare blankly at the doctor attempting to think back to my father's last visit. I remember us fighting quietly in my room. I remember him telling me that he can't come visit me as much anymore, he tells me that he wants to, but Dr. Snow thinks that it would be best for my treatment if he wasn't around for a while. He's crying quietly, but I don't care, I don't care about anything, I am in the fog.
"Why did you make him go?" I whisper.
"It's for your own good Bella, you need to be free of reminders of your past for a little while. You need to let your memories go."
I laugh quietly. He wants me to be free of my past, well, he's really going the opposite way on that one isn't he? I laugh louder.
"Care to clue me in on the joke Bella."
I shake my head and try to get my laughter under control, but I fail.
Dr. Snow gets up and holds my face in my hands, shining a bright light in my eyes. He frowns.
"You haven't taken your pills Bella."
I don't bother denying it. There would be no point. Dr. Snow calls Tommy into the room. He holds me down while Dr. Snow prepares a needle with a sedative. He injects me with it, and the fog returns before the world goes black.
A/N: So, what do you think? Drop me a review if you have any questions, and a big thanks to those of you who have reviewed and favorited this story so far.
