I am in my room with the lights off, my head pounding for some caffeine. No matter what I do or say, these people won't give me regular, claming I should get used not having a chemical jolt each morning. What a laugh. They pump me full of anti-depressants and yet one cup of normal coffee seems like murder to them.
Sometimes, when I am grabbing whatever is left from the slim pickings in the cafeteria, I find myself wanting to take the decaf pots and throwing them. I can feel the urge tingling in my hands before it travels all around me, igniting my veins. My heart pounds hard as I think of what would happen next: The cries of surprise, the scared looks, and finally screams of joy coming from the crowds as they wheel in what I want. But, like most mornings, I only have enough energy hold my plate up. So here I lay, dreaming of what I could not have.
"What I waste," I say as I turn over. I feel numerous lumps in my bed. They bump up against my body; while some are little dips that cause my legs to rest slightly lower then the rest of me. Sensing I might never sleep, I throw the blankets off me feeling the rush of cold that splashes over me. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the floor, letting my bangs fall over my face. The floorboards are carpeted with some thin gray mesh that looks cheap, and probably is. It is covered with many spots and spills of when past drunks have physically commented on their stay here.
"Don't they ever clean in here?" I silently ask myself. Feeling digested by the dirty sight I raise my poor body off the bed and decided to walk around. As I stroll the bare halls I began to feel something, and I have no idea what it is. It starts as a rumble in the base of my stomach, and then it slowly grows. The feeling travels around me and soon I am grabbed by a huge tentacle-sucking octopus of emotion, its arms clasped on mine
Strangely I can still walk, so I try to make way for the nurse's station before something stops me. My breath leaves me; practically usher's itself out of my body when I see it.
The Sky.
The deep blue star-studded sky that's peering in through the activity room windows. It spreads around like the ocean and the gripping feeling from before settles itself in my stomach, right at the bottom.
"Oh…" I half cry as I place a hand on the window. It's cold. My belly rumbles again and soon an unidentified yet familiar sensation overtakes me. It starts at the base of my belly and then gently moves to my empty abdomen. I'm confused at how recognizable the sensation is.
Suddenly, I see an image of the Sunset Arms roof. Arnold and I are standing on it, looking at a night sky just like the one before me. He's still in his suit from work while I am in a flowing pink dress. His smile catches my eyes and I can feel billions of butterflies swarming inside me.
"So tell me," Arnold breathes down my neck that is begging for his kisses, "Why did my sweet and sexy wife demand that we eat out here tonight?" I blush as the words come to my mouth, tingling my lips. They bubble behind my teeth, fighting to get out.
"Well," I start, "I…we're…we are…um…" I blush again, feeling nervous. The tension of my news builds inside and I panic that I won't be able to get it out. My breathing shortens while my stomach is on the verge of somersaulting. I quickly grab hold of Arnold's arms, steadying my trembling body.
"I think…No! I know that…" Arnold takes me to the linen covered table and sits me down on one of the padded chairs next to it.
"Just relax ok, here." My husbands hands me some water and directs me to sip. "Easy…easy…" he coaches, "Don't drink it all at once." I put the glass down and look up at my gorgeous man, the moon lighting his blonde hair. I love the way it's mostly slicked back with a few light tendrils falling forward to frame his emerald green eyes. My stomach calms a little as I gaze at him, giving me the sign that no matter how scary the news might be, Arnold's love will make it the most amazing news since our wedding.
"I want to do this right," I start again, "So just…give me a minute." I finish off the water as Arnold moves his seat next to me. Plopping down, he then takes his hands and gently smoothes them along my arms while softly pecking my neck. Smiling heavily I say, "Arnold! I'm-"
"Couldn't sleep either ay?" a vice says, pushing me out of my memory. I don't know who is speaking, but I already hate them.
"I find that tea helps sometimes. But it seems we're all out of tea. Guess I should settle for milk then. Want some? There's plenty." The huge figure moves out of the shadows and into the moonlight. It's Miss Fatty Cat. I groan.
"Unless that milk contains caffeinated coffee and scotch I don't want it!" I get up off my chair and attempt to storm out before Fatty Cats words paralyze me.
"Really? You're still going on about coffee? How pathetic." I turn to glare at her.
"Oh what do you know fatso?"
"I know that as long as you stay mad you'll never get out of here."
"Who says I'm mad!" I bark.
"Your tone does. Though, by the look of your red rimmed eyes I'm sensing that you weren't so mad a moment ago, weren't you?" I put my hand on my face and realize that she was right. I had been crying.
"So?" I choke out, trying to contain myself. She smiles and sips her teacup of milk while looking at me, her face explaining how disappointing she finds me, though I don't see why. What did I ever do to her? I try to pick up my feet to go but can't. My body intent on hearing what she has to say.
"Sad, just so sad. I see a lot of hard cases come through here, but there some that are quite harder then the rest. They seem hell bound to believe that their sadness is worse then everyone else's. Like they are the victims of life. Those are the ones that will keep coming back, and not…working it." She looked at me, her eyes finishing her thought.
"You can't just say that. You don't know me!" I stutter.
"Don't I? It's been almost two weeks and you've done nothing but sulk around, complaining. You go to group therapy and stay silent. And if you DO deign to grace us with your words they are mean, degrading and don't contribute to the healing aspects at all. You're just binding time until you can go home where, I am sure you'll only drink yourself back here. Face it, Hell-girl YOU'RE a drunk, and if you don't work on stopping that, you'll ALWAYS BE a drunk."
"Don't SAY THAT!" I wanted to shout, but don't. Instead, I just stare at her, wide-eyed. She seems so nice in-group, and now she is tearing me apart.
"But Arnold…He…" I sob some, hating myself for it. What is it about this woman that makes me want to cry every time she speaks to me? "He…dumped me here! If he really loved he could have let me stay." I finally get out after moments of choking on my words.
"If you really believe that, then you truly are pathetic." She got up and finished the last of her milk and then leaves me, someone who is yet again frozen in another sobbing episode.
The words "I want to do this right," whisper them selves in my mind's ear and I can't but hate myself for saying them.
I am sitting in my office with the blinds closed. There are piles of books surrounding me with my notebook sitting in the middle. I tare through the pages, flipping them, pushing them, and passing the ones that can't seem to shed light on my latest patient. The wind blows through the one open window on my right and I curse as I get up to close it.
"God damn it!" I shout, violently shoving the pane. I quickly let down the blind as well, so I don't have to glance at the at the more then beautiful Hillwood night skyline. It pains my heart every time I see it, pulling at my tear ducts. I sigh harshly, dying to get back to work.
"Lets see…No…." I close off Freud's Interpretation of Dreams and throw it to the side before digging into Jung's The Red Book. Finding nothing in that, I cast it away and stand up to find more apt reading. But when I make way to my shelves I see that nothing is in its place.
"What happened in here?" I scream. I start throwing books to the floor one by one, finding it impossible that they are so out of place. My heart races with rage as they plunk to the oriental carpeted ground.
"Julie!" I screech, "Get in here!" Before I have the chance to scream again, my brown haired mouse of a secretary bursts through my door. I look at her timid eyes, hoping my expression is all she needs to know how mad I am.
"W-what is it Arno..Arnold," She stutters to me.
"Can't you see this mess!" I demand, "Just look at it! The books are all out of order and it's taking me years to find the one I want. Did you do this?" Julie backs away from me some, rubbing her shaking hand on her left arm. I can see her trying to think, and it's taking up too much of my time.
"You said-said yest-yesterday that you w-w-wanted to make a n-n-new system. I-I-I didn't t-touch them." Her head shoots forward as she gets out the last word. I glare at her. She swiftly and fearfully shakes her head no. "Is that-that all you w-wanted?" she softly asks me. I think a moment. Seeing nothing else, I sigh,
"Yes, you can go."
"Thank you!" she ejaculates before nervously running for the door. I sigh again, fiddling with my fountain pen. Then, sensing the great mess I have created I start to gather huge stacks of books and try to remember what sorting system I was converting to.
"Um…Ar-Arnold. Y-y-your 8 o'clock is here…" Julie says in the intercom. Growling, I throw down the first book stack and go to answer her.
"NOW? Why did you schedule me something now! I have loads of work to do!" I yell. I can hear my secretary shaking slightly, but I'm too mad to care.
"Y-y-you said that-that n-n-now is w-when you w-want to s-s-s-see the pa-parents." I close my eyes and try not bark back at her, though I would have been glad to.
"Fine…send them in." I plunk myself in my large leather chair and hope this won't take long.
Almost instantly, a couple in their mid forties enter. Looking them over I can see that they are like most of my clients, full of money and empty of care. They dump their kids on my chair and hope that I can provide them with the love and kindness they should have gotten at home. I almost yelled at them to leave, but seeing the worried look on the mother's face I can tell that's not an option.
"Hello, sorry for the mess," I greet, "Too many books, not enough space. Please, take a seat." They walk forward, nearly tripping on the books. The woman pauses a moment and takes off her Manolos to carry them on her way to my desk. She then sets them down next to her and sits.
"Do you have it Barry?" she asks her husband anxiously. He looks at her, taking out his silk handkerchief and blowing his proud white schnoz on it.
"Do I have what?"
"The thing, show him the thing…" she spurts out. He rolls his eyes, taking out a folded up magazine out of his Armani suit pocket. As instructed by his buzzing wife Barry carelessly tosses the contraband magazine on my desk. The title reads "Jugs."
"Honestly, I don't see why we are wasting our time on this Emily. We're supposed to find out how the boy is doing, not about that…Um…publication."
Emily scoffs, dismissing her husband with her jeweled hands.
"Look, I'll just cut to the chase. I was-well the maid was cleaning our son's room when she found…that! Now I am ok with knowing periodicals of this nature exists and I am fine when the normal riff-raff want to read it, but…oh god." Her hands fly around her as she speaks before buzzing into her purse to get a pack of smokes. She takes out cig with her mouth and tries to it light up fruitlessly.
"Let me," her husband offers, "We'll be here all night otherwise." He takes out a gold Zippo with a huge B on it and daftly lights his wife's cancer stick. The smell hits me like a punch in the face, reminding me of someone I had spent all day trying to forget. But now, here I am being forced to remember her, and the day she chose to inhale and imbibe instead of exhale and talk.
"GET OUT!" I scream, standing. The couple looks at me, shocked. "You heard me. Get out of my FUCKING office!" I rip cigarette out of the woman's waspy lips and break it in two.
"You have no right to touch my wife that way!" Barry yells.
"And you have no right to smoke in here as the huge sign on the wall tells you, or were your noses to high in the air to see it?"
"THAT'S IT! WE'RE LEAVING!" Barry screams, and soon they are gone, leaving me to deal with my elevated heartbeat and reddened face. I try to calm myself down, but nothing works, the left over smell of the horrid cigarette still in the air.
"God Dammit! WHY is nothing organized in here!" I screech before Julie enters slowly, coyly walking to my desk.
"Um…s-s-sorry to ba-bother but Gar-gar-"
"Oh just say it already!"
"New Years! Are-are you do-doing new years wa-with them." I roll my eyes as I try to breathe out my annoyance, finding it hard.
"Tell them yes," I say behind my gritted teeth. Julie takes my response and scurries off, happy to be away from the monster beside her.