Chapter One Hundred Ten
A sigh spewed from Lorna's mouth. Shoulders slumped as she scooted backwards until her spine was pressing into the cold cement wall behind it. Her stare lifted up off of the floor and slowly fixed back onto the girl across from her. The longer her eyes lingered on her the quicker she was to realize the girl didn't appear the way she imagined any of the other child prisoners to appear. She looked a lot friendlier than Lorna had expected. Such a conclusion was swift to ease some of her trepidation. At least she wasn't locked in a room with Annalisa. No one was even half as bad as Annalisa.
"What's your name?" Lorna questioned aloud her ponderous thought. It couldn't hurt to at least make friends while she was trapped there, especially since she had no clue exactly how long she would be. She could put up her normal façade in here and no one would even know it was one.
But she didn't want to be there. She didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't with her sister or near the people who she cared for. Didn't want to be without Nicky. Her sweet, angelic, Nicky who shouldn't be put in this shit any longer with her. Maybe being dragged to this facility and locked away was the best thing for her and everyone else, too. They wouldn't have to put up with her anymore or the shit storm that always seemed to follow right behind her.
She could only hope that Nicky and the rest of her family opened their eyes to that very same conclusion. They didn't need to waste their energy on her; they needed to get on with their lives and forget about her. Leave her in the dust where she couldn't continuously cause their lives to be thrown up in a tornado the same as her own life seemed to always be stuck in. However, knowing Nicky, that was certainly the last thing she'd ever do. Nicky cared way too much about her, Lorna dishearteningly came to realize many months ago now. She would never be worthy of that amount of care and god did she wish Nicky would see that too. Nicky put more energy and focus on her than was needed. Than she should. Lorna wasn't fucking worth an ounce of Nicky's energy or focus. She wasn't worth anyone's energy or focus if she was being real with herself. She belonged locked away from society like she just so happened to be right now. This was exactly where she deserved to be whether she felt comfortable with it or not.
There was a rummaging of papers which caught Lorna's attention and brought her out of her effervescent running mind. Eyes instantly darted in the direction of where it was coming from and saw the other teen had now been sitting at a small rickety desk which was placed right underneath a rather small window. The desk looked like it had seen better days from how it wobbled as the girl sat moving papers around on the top of its surface.
The darker haired teen turned around in her seat and returned Lorna's gaze. "Ruiz," she responded nonchalantly. After, she immediately went back to flipping through the papers she had sprawled out on the desk.
Eyebrows scrunched up at the disclosure. That was a first name she never heard before. She swallowed thickly and fidgeted her legs against the mattress which in turn made the bed frame squeal from how old it must have been. "Ruiz?" Lorna said back in the form of a question. There was no way that was the girl's real name, she thought to herself. What kind of a parent named their daughter that? The query popped through her mind.
Chuckling, the taller girl raised her shoulders and once again twisted around in her seat to stare at Lorna a second time. "It's my last name, they're real weird here and only let us call each other our last names," Ruiz answered when she saw the dumbfounded expression etched on her new roommate's face.
Lorna slowly nodded and felt her eyebrows fall into their normal relaxed position. That cleared up what she was thinking and also gave her an explanation as to why the one guard referred to her as Morello earlier. It hadn't meant she was any more okay with being called Morello but at least now she had a reason for why she was. And, now, another reason for why she needed to get out of this place as fast as humanly possible.
"Well, what's your first name? They really have dumb rules here. I don't understand anything," Lorna truthfully stated, throwing her hands exasperatingly up in the air to emphasis her point.
Ruiz chuckled again and crossed one of her legs over her other, deciding on getting comfortable since it was obvious her new roommate wanted to sit and conversate a bit. She wasn't one for small talk but the young girl across from her looked like maybe a bit of conversing might benefit her some and she didn't have the heart to be rude about it like she normally did with the newbies. "It's Maria but the walls have ears, Morello. They'll punish us if we call each other anything but our last names. It's stupid but a lotta shit in this world is stupid," she said, puffing out one of her shoulders and then releasing it back to its regular position.
The walls have ears. The walls have ears? Eyebrows once more arched their way up over her brown eyes in wonderment at the comment. Were the guards in this place listening in on everyone's conversation or something? Lorna couldn't compute the statement fully. Rather it only made being in there feel even more eerie and uneasy. She wanted to get out even more than before but knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. God forbid the state approve Franny's guardianship, she bitterly thought. God forbid something in her life go the way she wanted.
Lorna pushed her thoughts aside and tried to focus on Maria, who was still seated on the rickety chair that connected to the rickety desk. "Um, have ya been in this place long?" The query nervously spilled out of her mouth. Maybe if she forced herself to keep talking to the girl it would give her a mind a break from all the worrying and stressing. Both of which weren't doing any good for her and certainly wouldn't make her magically find a way out of there any quicker.
"This is the longest I've been here at one time," Ruiz muttered while folding her arms securely over her chest. Eyes peered suspiciously across at the smaller-framed teenager. Clearly this was the first time for Morello, she easily took note of. She watched as Morello subtly grimaced at the revelation she just shared with her. Yes, she nodded to herself, this sure was the girl's first stay in juvie. And for a reason that didn't even make her like the rest of them that were in there. It was perplexing to say the least.
Lorna quickly shifted her eyes away from the other, who's stare made her feel a slight discomfort as if she was staring directly into her soul or something. "Oh," her voice went up a few notches. She swallowed thickly and let her fingers run along the cotton material of the pants she'd been wearing. "Well, how long is that though? A week? A month?"
A week Ruiz thought and chuckled. This poor girl had no idea what the hell she was in for if she thought a week in juvie was a long time. She shook her head while retaining her gaze on the blatantly disheveled brunette who was too busy messing with her pants to observe the somber expression now displayed on her face. "It's been more like six months, Morello. Nobody has ever come here and only stayed for a week. Hate to break it to ya but ya probably gonna be here a while," Ruiz informed her, a faint look of pity in her eyes for the younger girl.
Six months. Six fucking months? Six goddamn fucking months. Lorna's mind was on fire with the repetitive comment coursing through it. There was absolutely no fucking way on this godforsaken planet Lorna could survive in juvie for six damn months. That was like being trapped in her science class with Annalisa for an eternity. She couldn't handle that, manage that. How the fuck was she supposed to last in this place for six months? Would she even get to see Nicky or her siblings? Or at least have the chance to talk to them on the phone? The questions ran through her head like the waves of an ocean came crashing to the shore. They were fast and wouldn't stop. It wasn't long before a headache ensued causing a dull throbbing right smack-dab in the middle of her forehead.
Ruiz watched closely as the expression on Morello's face incessantly morphed and changed as she appeared to be trying to process the statement she had just made. Her mouth slightly curved into a frown. "Sorry, Morello. Didn't meana bum ya out but it's better to know now than later, huh?"
It would have been better to not be in this place to begin with Lorna's mind silently screamed in response but she didn't allow it out. Instead, all she did was give a small nod. A small nod even though she didn't technically agree, however, what else was there for her to do or say? It wasn't like she could do anything to change the circumstance. That was up to the state and the CPS system. Both of which seemingly had a vendetta against her. Hell, she might be trapped in there until she turned eighteen. Who the fuck would ever want her as a foster child? The Chapmans and Mrs. Figueroa were likely going to warn other potential foster families of her disobedient, delinquent, nature. She didn't fucking have a prayer.
"It's fine, I guess. I mean at least this place don't have the Chapmans so it can't be the worst place, can it?" She tried to be optimistic but she had a sense this place was going to be as bad, if not, worse than living with the Chapmans had been.
"Ya really don't like these Chapman's do ya?" Ruiz quirked an eyebrow, her curiosity growing by the second. A sigh came through and she again shrugged her shoulders. "It's not as bad here as ya might think. But they do make us do school work and that kinda sucks. That's actually what I was doin' over here. Gotta stupid math test tomorrow," she informed her with an eyeroll. Couldn't escape from math class even in a damn juvenile delinquent center she irritatingly thought to herself.
A rather small snicker innately made its way through Lorna's windpipe. She wasn't expecting there to be classes in juvie but hearing Maria's comment about it made this facility seem a little less scary. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would. As long as there was no Annalisa here and no other people like Annalisa. "It's mainly the Mrs. Chapman I can't stand but at least I ain't gotta deal with her in here. And I didn't think that this place had school stuff, the CPS lady said it was prison for children."
Curiosity intensified more. "What Mrs. Chapman do to make ya not like her?"
Air whistled through Lorna's nose as it exhaled out of her. Shoulders raised up to both sides of her face as she swallowed a decent amount of saliva that had formed near the tip of her tongue. "It's a real long story. I'm sure ya don't wanna hear it, especially if ya got a math test to study for," Lorna said, hoping the other would leave it at that.
Her hope, however, was left unto deaf ears.
Ruiz shook her head and held her stare on Morello. The math test could wait; she wanted to hear the story behind her roommate's dislike towards the infamous Mrs. Chapman. Plus, the distraction would give her a break from the mundane atmosphere in their blatantly stuffy cell. "We got a lotta time. I think you can tell it and still have more time left when you're finished. Please? I've been alone in this cell for literally weeks, I need human interaction or I might disintegrate. And believe me I don't really care too much about the math test," she pleaded, waving a hand in the air.
"Fine, fine," Lorna breathed out a sigh. She couldn't say no with how desperate the other seemed for conversation. But that didn't negate the fact that she wasn't particularly fond of discussing Mrs. Chapman any further. Mrs. Chapman was her least favorite subject, right behind her father and uncle. "Mrs. Chapman and her husband were my foster parents for the last month and they just were uppity rich people who I think only agreed to take me in so it would make em' look good. Mrs. Chapman told me she didn't like me all the time and she's just a fake snob. Even her mother-in-law said to me that Mrs. Chapman is the snob bitch," she retold what she remembered from the conversation she had with Celeste only a couple of weeks prior.
"The snob bitch? Yeah a lotta rich people are that. So, what, you're in the foster system then?"
Lorna swallowed and bent her head down to look at the floor. She nodded slightly and felt air frustratingly burst through her chest. The last thing she wanted was to admit she was a child of the system but that was exactly what she was now and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to make it any different. She didn't have a way to contact anyone outside of this fucking facility. She felt as though she was in her own little world. A world that she may never escape from again.
One of her hands was lifted up and used to comb gently through her thick brown waves of hair. "Yeah unless the stupid court finally decides to approve my sista's guardianship a me. But they really suck and won't even give her no updates. I'm real sick a this. Are you in the system too? Is that why you're here?"
Lips twitched from a frown to a smirk and back to a frown. Ruiz resituated herself on the chair so she was sitting sideways on it. The new position gave her the ability to look both across at the other teenager and down at her math papers on the desk. She chose, now, to focus her glance down on the math papers instead. A slight bout of sympathy had been felt through a random pang in her chest for Morello and her situation. But she wasn't one to ever really show her emotions so peering at her school work made it easier to further the conversation between them.
"That sucks, I'm sorry," she spoke not much louder than a whisper. Just as quickly as the hushed demeanor came over her it vanished. She sat up straighter and puffed her shoulders while lifting them upwards to the sides of her face. "Nah, I'm here because I am a criminal. A real criminal not just a kid runnin' away from a foster family," eyebrows arched up as she made the comment followed by a small chuckle.
"Really? What'd ya do? Since I told ya about Mrs. Chapman, it's only fair ya tell me how you're a real criminal," Lorna pointed out while gesturing a hand out in front of her. Eyes had long returned their stare onto Maria full of wonder as to the reason for what she was doing in this place if it wasn't to do with being in the foster system.
Ruiz tilted her head to the side for a moment and then nodded. A point well made she realized. "I helped one a my cousins' deal heroin and shit. We tried to keep it hidden but clearly that didn't work real well for us. Her stupid little brother fucking snitched on us. He's such a little fucker," she bitterly stated, gritting her teeth harshly together.
Heroin, Lorna's stomach immediately sank at the mention. Nicky had heroin in her possession at one point in time she suddenly remembered. This whole debacle was stressful and exhausting, she noted, and Nicky spent the majority of her time worrying about her. If it became too much she feared Nicky might search out that heroin again. She couldn't bare the thought of Nicky's using heroin—a drug she knew could really fuck with her. Her hands instantly became clammy as they sat crossed together in her lap.
There wasn't even a way for her to get in touch with Nicky right now to check on how she was doing. Lorna swallowed uneasily and sucked in on her lower lip. What if Nicky was tempted to repossess more baggies of that evil heroin? Her mind now swirled with frantic queries and thoughts. Eyes were fixed widely in their sockets as they focused straight ahead on nothing in particular. "Heroin? My uh my girlfriend—she got heroin before from a friend a hers. Some girl name Boo, do ya know her?"
"Boo?" Ruiz repeated and watched as Morello's head bobbed up and down in response. She mirrored the movement, nodding her own head. "Hell yeah I know Boo. She's one a the girls me and my cousin used to deal to. Why? Is your girlfriend lookin' for more or is she wantin' in on the dealing? I mean I couldn't blame her for wantin' to, it makes good money."
Lorna profusely shook her head and held both of her hands out in front of her. The last thing she wanted or needed was for Nicky to start dealing the damn drugs. Nicky needed to stay as far away from that shit as she possibly could. "No, no, no way. I just—is there a way you could let Boo know not to give any heroin to my girlfriend, please? Her name is Nicky. I mean she hasn't had any for a long time but I just I don't wanna risk it."
An odd request Ruiz thought to herself but gave a nod anyway. "Sure, I'll do that. But in return I need a favor," she told her, her expression indistinguishable as she gazed over at Morello.
A lump had formed in Lorna's throat which she uncomfortably forced herself to swallow down. That didn't sound very comforting to her. She hoped Maria wasn't about to turn into a carbon copy of Annalisa. Lorna lifted a hand onto her temple, rubbing it anxiously up and down its length. Had she just sealed her fate by asking what she had asked? She surely wished not but it felt that way by the unnerving glance she was currently receiving some from Maria.
"What, uh, wha-what's the favor?" The question came out a lot shakier than Lorna would have liked. She unquestionably knew how to make herself an easy target.
The older teen stifled a faint snicker. This poor girl really was a newbie. There was no way Morello was going to be able to last long in here, she concluded. Not long at all. "I'll need ya to help me study for this math test. What'd ya think I was gonna ask? Huh? Damn you look like you're about to be shanked from how scared ya are, Morello. You're gonna need to get better at hiding your fear, there's some real mean girls in here who will eat you alive when they see how easy ya are to scare."
Another hard lump was swallowed down after hearing such. Mean girls? There couldn't be a girl meaner than Annalisa she inwardly commented. Annalisa was the queen of mean. Her brows furrowed together. Unless Annalisa was here and was one of those real mean girls. Lorna bit down on the side of her mouth and squeezed her hands between her thighs. "Is there any girl here with the name Annalisa?" She'd rather have known now and had the evening to prepare herself then to find out later without any preparation at all.
Ruiz squinted her eyes for a second as she tried to figure out if she had heard that name before. "Annalisa? Hmph, oh, you mean Damiva? Yeah, I think she might be here. That girl is one ya gotta watch out for. Apparently she tried to shiv a girl's face off at her high school. Pretty crazy if ya ask me."
The room Lorna was brought to to meet with her visitor a couple of hours later was a lot different than the ones they showed on TV she easily observed as she looked around while she waited for whoever had come to see her enter in through the same door she just had. A couple of minutes went by before she heard footsteps filing through clacking against the cement floor in the process. Immediately her head turned towards the door to watch who came in through it.
A bit of surprise etched its way on Lorna's face when the person turned out to be her therapist. How did her therapist even know she was in juvie? Was the first question that popped in her mind after seeing her come in. Her eyes stayed on Doctor Washington the entire time she made her way from the door to the chair opposite her own. After, she heard the door shut and as she turned her stare temporarily over at it through the sliver of a window she could see the guard who had closed it walking in the other direction.
Getting situated in the plastic chair on the other side of the small table from where Lorna was sitting, Poussey rested her hands on the surface of it while peering her over in a vastly methodic manner. Her lips formed into a bit of a frown as she took note of how blatantly drained and worn out Lorna appeared. She couldn't blame her for that—the day she had would have been exhausting for anyone to have to endure.
She raised a hand to the side of her face and pressed the palm right into it. "Are you doing okay, Lorna?" The question made its way out after she spent a couple of minutes studying the young brunette. It was probably pointless of her to ask such a question when, to her eyes, she had easily been able to see the response to it.
Was she doing okay? Her mind repeated the question. A question she found utterly laughable right at that specific moment. But she couldn't find it in her to laugh, not even a little bit. How could she laugh when she recently found out her school bully was also in this same juvenile facility? And, of course, that knowledge meant she was doing the complete opposite of okay. Despite that conclusion, however, Lorna automatically nodded her head. It didn't really matter if she wasn't doing okay, what the hell could her therapist do about that? Nothing. There wasn't shit anyone could do to change her situation right now.
Her head continued to nod and her lips pursed themselves into a smile. A smile that was blatantly empty and did not make it even close to her eyes. "I'm doing real good. Today is real dandy, Dr. Washington. How'd ya know I was in here?" Her lips instantly lost the smile and gradually shifted into a frown. Eyes fell down onto the table beneath where her elbows were resting. All the furniture in that place seemed old and broken. There were so many cracks in the wooden surface she was half-expecting it to fall apart from even the slightest bit of pressure.
A matching frown formed on Poussey's face the second she heard her client's response. One which clearly contradicted how she truly felt from what her physical appearance was telling her. But it didn't come as a surprise to her; Lorna never seemed to want to admit it when she was struggling or having a hard time. As if she wasn't worthy of admitting to anything of the sort. It was sad for Poussey to witness but she could understand the reason behind why Lorna did that. That was her coping mechanism—or at least one of them. None of which were the healthiest of coping mechanisms, either.
"Nicky came by my office earlier and explained what happened," she went ahead and informed the young girl, watching her closely to see if her reaction changed at all. The exhaustion hidden in her eyes was fighting to display itself but she observed how hard Lorna forced them to stay as widely open as possible. "You've had a rough day, Lorna, you don't have to pretend you didn't. I'm not gonna judge you. Why won't you start being more open with how you're really feeling?"
Hearing Nicky's name was all it took for Lorna's eyes to fill with a hefty volume of tears. She tried to retain them from falling but wasn't able to do so for long. Anger came over her at the realization that she had no control over the tears and so she lifted hand up to the back of her neck and violently clawed her nails into its flesh. "There ain't no point. I'm not allowed to have feelings in this place, nobody cares and I don't either. My feelings don't matter, why do ya think I'm in here? Because no one gives a fuck. I just wish I could disappear," the words spewed out between whistling sniffles. She laid out her arms in front of her on the table and leaned in to rest her face right on top of them.
Poussey swallowed hard at Lorna's heartrending disclosure. Though it might have felt that way to Lorna, it certainly hadn't been true that nobody cared about her. Maybe the Chapmans nor Mrs. Figueroa didn't but the people who mattered surely cared. They cared a great deal Poussey had effortlessly came to conclude throughout that entire day. A sigh escaped as she formulated a gentle way to respond to Lorna's comment.
Eyes softened while looking the frazzled brunette thoroughly over. "You're always allowed to have feelings, Lorna. There are so many people who care about you, I promise. I've talked to quite a few of them today. You're not in here because your feelings don't matter—you're not in here because of yourself for any reason, okay?"
Lorna bit down on her lip and raised her hand slightly. "Then why am I here?" She asked no louder than a mere whisper.
The look on her face was one that nearly stabbed through Doctor Washington's chest. It was a question she hadn't had a clear answer for much to her own dissatisfaction. She was still trying to figure out the reason behind that. This was a juvenile delinquent center not a juvenile social services center so it didn't full make sense to Poussey as to why her client happened to be put in there. Lorna was nothing short of a sweetheart. She didn't belong in a delinquent facility, that was for damn sure.
"Honestly, I'm still working on getting some answers for that. I don't know why you're here, either, Lorna. But I know you don't belong in here. You're not a bad kid, not at all. Now I know Nicky had said the social worker was saying she was bringing you here because of how you weren't staying at the Chapman's house but that's not a real reason for you to be in this sort of environment."
"You don't think I'm troubled?" Lorna glanced up at her therapist for a brief a minute and the second she noticed her bottom lip was trembling, she immediately returned to her previous position that had her face hidden from view.
Shaking her head dishearteningly, Poussey had to slightly grit her teeth together in order to stop any inappropriate emotions from making their way to the surface. She hated how easy it was for her to get attached to her patients. But, on the flip side, she was also grateful to have that ability because her patients needed the care and empathy she provided them with. Some of them didn't have anyone else to show them those things. So, she inverted her shoulders and inhaled a deep breath.
While exhaling she witnessed Lorna's timidly sliding a hand across the table nearing her own as if silently asking for some form of physical contact. The gesture took Doctor Washington by surprise but she swiftly abided after seeing the pleading look oozing through Lorna's eyes and took a firm hold of the hand that had been inching its way toward hers. "No, I definitely don't think you're troubled or a delinquent. I know you're a very sweet girl who just has been dealt a shitty hand in life right now but that doesn't mean things won't get better. It might not seem like that but I promise you this situation isn't permanent. Now, tell me how you're truly feeling. Being in a place like this can't be the easiest and that's okay. You don't have to fake anything in front of me. I'm here to help you. But you know I can only help you if you're honest with me, honey."
Existing in this place wasn't going to be even remotely easy, Lorna corrected, certainly not anymore since she'd been informed Annalisa was also in there. As if the school bullying hadn't been enough now she would have to deal with juvie bullying. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much worse the bullying might be in this place. It wasn't like the guards she had met that day cared for the well-being of any of their underage residents. Lorna was officially doomed. She was doomed and there wasn't anything she could do about it, at least not anything she had been aware of.
"I feel like I wanna go home," was the muttered response that slipped out of Lorna's mouth after several moments of contemplation.
It was the most accurate feeling she could describe it as what she happened to currently be experiencing. There hadn't been a stronger yearning within her for anything other than to get out of that god-awful facility and to be reunited with her older sister. However, with the more time that passed, it was getting clearer to her that she may never end up receiving said desire. Her chest felt heavy at the realization. Air expelled deeply through her nose while her eyes stared angrily up at the ceiling.
Doctor Washington's face flashed a momentary, solemn, smile in Lorna's direction. Once it had vanished just seconds after the fact, she reached across the table and gave a comforting pat to Lorna's hand with the palm of her own. She nodded to her, unable to blame her for wanting that. There was nothing pleasant about having to stay in a juvenile facility. Especially a juvenile delinquent facility like the one Lorna had unfairly been put into. "I'm sorry," she gently said when she had retracted her hand from the brunette's.
Lips twitched into a frown the longer she lingered her stare on Lorna. The agony oozing from her face wasn't hard to observe. Such a fact hadn't been a usual occurrence which made Poussey conclude the only reason her client wasn't trying to hide it at this particular moment like she had done in prior situations was undoubtedly because she hadn't the energy to do so. "I'm trying to work with the agency Mrs. Figueroa is with to see what I can do to get you out of here quicker but I don't know how long that'll be, Lorna. I know this whole situation sucks for you and I'm so sorry you have to go through this. Is there anything I can do for you right now?"
Lorna sighed and swallowed down the same air that just inhaled through her mouth. Shoulders raised up and pressed into her cheeks. If she couldn't take her out of there tonight, there wasn't anything Doctor Washington could do for her. At least not anything that would make her feel less frustrated and agitated. Tears were quick to form in the bottoms of her eyelids but she held them in. Her roommates words were what helped her to do so; she didn't need to draw the other girls to her with her timidity blatantly showing.
"Mrs. Figueroa hates me, Dr. Washington. How is her agency gonna help? They probably think I'm a stupid criminal just like she does," Lorna cried out and threw her hands up in defeat. "I'm gonna spend the resta my life in here because I'm screwed. My sista ain't ever gonna get the guardianship and no foster family will want me so I'm just gonna be in here forever. It's probably a good thing because then I won't be able to ruin anyone else's lives. I should probably be put in a mental hospital instead so the key can be thrown out and I'd be locked in a room until I die. Or if my dad woulda just pulled out maybe I wouldn't even be here to cause all this fucking trouble."
Each comment caused a little bit more of Poussey's chest to ache. It was beginning to become a challenge for her to not display her own emotions or feelings. Hearing and seeing how distraught Lorna was she couldn't put to words what exactly she felt other than having a strong desire to want to protect the young girl. To protect and take care of her as if Lorna were the younger sister she had always wished her parents had given her as a child.
Despite all those feelings, though, she shoved them away and did her best to keep her face its normal calm and professional demeanor. Lorna was her client not her sister she silently reminded herself. She swallowed a lump and gradually slid her hand back across the table until the tips of her fingers were just barely touching against the side of one of Lorna's hands. "Don't you worry about Mrs. Figueroa or the agency, okay? I'll deal with all of that. It's not your problem to have to stress over, Lorna. So, please don't. You already stress and worry over a lot, which isn't good for you," she carefully informed the teen, keeping her tone rather firm.
"Take a couple of breaths. You're working yourself up you're gonna end up with a racing heart if you keep that up—"
"Good, I don't care. Let my heart race, maybe it'll kill me," Lorna bitterly interjected and raised up a hand, waving it violently in the air.
A racing heart was the least of her problems. Death was the least of her problems as well. Hell, death would fucking erase her problems because she'd be dead and would no long have to worry about them or anything else. It would get her out of having to possibly face Annalisa in there and she wouldn't have to go through with any painful medical procedures. Death was looking pretty good right about now to Lorna. Of course, because she saw it as a good thing, that meant the opposite would happen. Lorna didn't get good things because Lorna deserved nothing fucking good. Lorna only deserved bad things since it was clear she was a bad seed. A bad soul.
Poussey profusely shook her head at the girl's rather terrifying statement. A terrifying statement which told her exactly what she needed to know about her client. Her lower lip slightly inverted under her top one. Again she had to control her emotions and remain as professional as possible. "Lorna, are you saying you want your heart to race so it'd kill you?"
Lorna nodded and folded her arms angrily against her chest. "That's exactly what I'm sayin'. It'd get me outta this place and I won't have to give my dad a liver which might just kill me anyway so why should care if I die now or later? I mean I don't care. Not one bit. I'm just real done. Real real done, Dr. Washington. I don't want to deal with anymore stuff, it's too much and I'm tired."
There were tears that appeared ready to fall from beneath Lorna's eyelids Doctor Washington had clearly been able to observe. The sight made the pang in her chest sharpen. It seemed as though Lorna's emotions had finally caught up with her and any minute she would no longer have the ability to hold them all in anymore. The realization did not come as a surprise to the therapist; it was only a matter of time before something like that were to occur. Lorna couldn't contain her feelings forever. That was an impossible quest. One of the many, many, reasons she always encouraged each of her clients to always allow themselves to feel their feelings when they first started rather than to push them away compared to how Lorna typically had.
"I really don't think dying is the answer to your suffering, Lorna. It may seem like it might temporarily be a solution but death is a permanent thing. In the long run, your death wouldn't solve any of the issues you think it would. Your life matters to so many people—people who are good and kind unlike the ones who are at fault for why you're in this particular situation," she gradually started in on her spiel she had been mentally preparing for the past couple of minutes.
A snuffle of air came in through her nose as she repositioned herself on her plastic chair in a more comfortable manner. Eyes hadn't once removed themselves from Lorna through the entire ordeal. "I promise you you're not gonna be forced to give your father any part of your liver, okay? I'm still working on getting answers to things but as long as the Chapmans no longer have custody over you, they cannot make any decisions on your behalf. And even if that's not the case, I will make sure they know how dire it is that they not go through with consenting to the procedure. Is that the whole reason you're thinking about death right now? Because you're scared of the possibility of being cut into?" Eyebrows arched ponderously over her brown eyes; she secretly hoped that was the only reason Lorna was fixated on dying right now and nothing more sinister was behind her thoughts.
Head lifted slightly up from where it had been previously resting on her folded together arms. Lorna stared right ahead of her into her therapists' highly worried eyes and slightly tilted her head. A sigh whistled from her windpipe as she placed a hand one of her arms that remained on the cold surface of the table, rubbing it with her palm. "How can ya make a promise like that? I mean what can you do about it? You're not my guardian or nothin', why would they listen to you over the Chapmans'? The Chapmans will probably pay them off anyway because they're rich and just want me gone," she muttered, waving a hand in the air. She shook her head and averted her eyes away from Doctor Washington once more.
There happened to be a multitude of reasons why death was seemingly so enticing to her right at this moment. But half of those reasons were ones she could not or would not voice aloud to her therapist. A gesture she knew wholeheartedly would do nothing other than worsen the predicament tremendously. So, instead, she found herself nodding her head. It would be a whole lot easier to just agree with Doctor Washington's observation and continue to make her believe she was only fixated on death because of her fear for having to go through with that terrifying medical procedure.
"I'm real scared of being cut into. It's not even to help a person I like. I don't wanna do it but I don't get to make choices anymore, Dr. Washington. When it was my decision, I couldn't decide and now it's not my decision and I don't wanna save my dad. I'm a bad person and God knows that and that's why he won't let me have a choice. To punish me for being so bad. And if I die that would only benefit me so I'm not allowed to die because I have to suffer for all the real bad things I've done."
Poussey blinked her eyes a couple of times but still couldn't fully comprehend what her client was going on about. She felt utterly baffled to come to terms with just how deeply Lorna believed the words she had spewed only seconds earlier. Had the people who'd abused her ingrained such nonsense in her brain for so long that the poor girl actually thought it to be the truth? That was the only explanation Poussey could come up with which was able to help her somewhat understand Lorna's thought process on the matter.
Of course that certainly had not meant she agreed with anything Lorna said because she did not, it just helped her to comprehend why Lorna felt the way she had about herself. She was conditioned by the abusive people in her life to think that way of herself. And to conclude a thing like that had only added to the tightness already in Poussey's chest. She wondered if Lorna had been this open with Nicky about her feelings; Poussey had an inkling she had yet to do that.
A sigh came out and Doctor Washington brought herself gradually out of her thoughts. Her stare refocused across onto Lorna, who kept her face pointed slightly to the right. Obviously, Lorna was wanting her tears unnoticed by her she figured out from how Lorna chose to position her face in that way. "First of all, Lorna, you are not a bad person. You're not even close to being a bad person," she firmly assured her first and foremost. Lorna was certainly the farthest thing from being a bad human being. Anyone who thought otherwise was clearly just trying to get under Lorna's skin.
She sighed again and held out two fingers. "Second, it's your body being cut into you have every single right to make the final decision on what happens. No one else has the right to tell you your words don't matter on this. I don't care if the Chapmans are the guardians or not, they don't get to make a decision on what happens to your body without including you in on that decision."
"But Mrs. Chapman said I'm not an adult and I can't make any choices. Is that true, Dr. Washington? I can't choose if I get cut into or not because I'm just a stupid teenager?" Desperation seeped vastly through Lorna's voice as she spoke. Her eyes were wide as they stared frantically ahead at a random spot on the wall behind where Doctor Washington had been sitting.
"No, that's not entirely true. You have rights and I'm gonna make sure nothing gets done to you that you have not consented to, okay? No one is violating your body if you're not at all okay with having this procedure done. And, besides that, you're not in good enough shape to undergo any form of operation, anyway. Your physician from the hospital, who I've been in contact with about this situation, is in agreement with that as well. She will not sign off on any procedures no matter who is in charge of them. Your health is in too poor of a condition for you to be put under anesthesia for any length of time."
Both relief and confusion coursed through her body upon hearing her therapist's comment. Her health was in poor condition? Eyebrows scrunched puzzlingly above her eyes. She didn't feel bad at all, how could her health be poor if she felt fine? At least it would stop her from having to donate anything to her father but she sure hadn't felt poorly or sickly. "I don't feel like my health is in poor condition, though. I feel fine. I mean I am fine," she said, raising her shoulders up towards each of her cheeks.
Another response which hadn't surprised Poussey to hear in even the slightest bit. Lorna truly despised admitting to when something hadn't been right, whether it was her health or how other people treated her. It was as if Lorna thought if she admitted to the truth of anything she would be seen as weak or a failure, both of which weren't and would never be the truth. But that was the only way Poussey had been able to figure out why her client was so hell-bent on putting up this 'everything's fine' façade.
She shook her head while staring Lorna over. "You're not fine. I know admitting that is hard for you but you're not fine. Repeating you're fine the way you do is not going to change that fact, honey. Your blood tests are proof of that. You might think you feel okay but your physical appearance also negates that thought you're having."
Lorna mirrored her therapist with her own head shake. It wasn't just thinking she felt okay she did feel okay. She was okay, she was fine. She wasn't in poor health condition like Doctor Washington and her physician thought her to be. And until she had those so called blood tests physically in her hands, she wouldn't believe any of the nonsense they said in regards to her health. Even if that meant she might have to go through with the transplant operation. She was willing to risk her own life to retain her façade of being just fine.
"The only thing wrong with my physical appearance is that the other girls in here can smell my weakness from a mile away. I'm gonna be dead meat in here, Dr. Washington, so none of this health stuff even matters. I probably won't make it in here long enough to have to worry about the condition of my health or the transplant. So, I guess I don't care," shoulders puffed out as she spoke, lips curving down into a solemn frown.
"Stop that talk, Lorna. No one is gonna hurt you in here, and if you feel like someone might you have to tell one of the guards. No, you know what, tell me what's going on and who's threatening to hurt you right now," Doctor Washington sternly commanded, arms crossing firmly over her chest.
Shaking her head fiercely, Lorna copied the older woman by folding her arms over her chest as well. Sometimes it seemed like the adults in her life were more naïve than she was and that was saying a lot because she knew she was one of the most naïve humans to walk the Earth. "That's not true and you know it. And telling the guards would be pointless because one of them was the one to tell me to watch myself in here. They don't care if anything happens to me, Dr. Washington. I told you no one gives a fuck about me," the words shook from her tremoring lips. No longer was she able to retain her tears from falling. They came over the lids of her eyes without even a warning.
That was all it took for Poussey's eyes to fill with their own set of tears. She didn't even try to hold them in; there wasn't a rule that said a therapist couldn't cry in front of her client. Not other than the one she made up on her own. And now was a time she couldn't abide by her own rule. "No, Lorna, that's not true—"
"What's not true? About the guards, how would you know?"
Poussey shook her head strongly and held up a hand. "No about how no one gives a fuck about you," she responded, gritting down on her teeth to try and keep her composure the best she could.
Lorna swallowed uneasily and tightened her arms over her chest. The tears hadn't let up in even the slightest amount. She chewed down on the side of her mouth as if that would miraculously stop them but it did not. "But that is true, no one does. That's why I'm in here because I'm so unlikeable that no foster family can handle me."
"No," Doctor Washington sternly interjected, eyes peering intently at the disheveled brunette. She watched as Lorna's face slowly became soaked with tears and how seconds later a sob shook its way through her diaphragm. Lorna's arms had fallen from their place over her chest and now Doctor Washington observed while one of her hands came sliding across the table nearer her own. Without a single second of hesitation, she took that as her que to grab a gentle, yet firm, hold of it with her own hand. "I give a fuck about you, Lorna," her voice softly spoke out, her hand giving a soothing squeeze to the one cradled in it.
A knot melded into the pit of Lorna's stomach. The disclosure seemed genuine yet she couldn't resist from thinking the only reason her therapist said that was because she was just her therapist. She was paid to care about her. And that made sense—the only way anyone could ever care about her was to be paid to do so. Who could care about Lorna just to care? Clearly, no one. She was a piece of work who wreaked havoc on the lives she was a part of. How could anyone care about a person who only tore their lives apart along with her own? The answer was simple in Lorna's mind, they just couldn't.
"But you're my therapist. If I wasn't a patient who's sista paid for your services, you wouldn't give a single fuck about me. And I mean I couldn't blame ya for that. There's nothing good about me anyway," she pointed out, a few sniffles following directly after.
Her head shook profusely at the comment that had just slipped out of Lorna's mouth. A comment that wasn't even remotely the truth. The hand which had remained in her own Poussey brushed her thumb soothingly from one side of her palm to the other. "That's not true, Lorna, not at all. I would still care about you even if I wasn't your therapist. There's a whole lotta good about you, you just can't see it because of all the self-hatred you're harboring. And the only reason you have so much self-hatred is because of all the abuse you've been put through."
Lorna shook her head in disbelief and released her hand from the therapists' despite having felt some comfort from the stroking sensation around her hand's palm. Instead of allowing herself any amount of comfort, she forced her way up from the chair she'd been sitting on and started angry pacing the length of the room which wasn't much due to how small and enclosed the space happened to be. It wasn't as tight as the walls in the room she'd been assigned but it hadn't been that considerably wider.
Tears flooded her eyes making her vision quite blurry. Hazy as if she'd been surrounded by fog. She could only walk a couple of laps through the room before she fell to her knees and scooted back towards one of the corners. When her back hit the wall's surface she finally stopped moving backwards and now pulled her knees all the way up to right below her chin. Arms held them in place by the pit underneath while her chin rested on the top of them.
Sobs and sniffles tremored through her body while she sat in the corner finally succumbing to her tears.
In a matter of minutes, before Poussey had a chance to react, she heard the sound of the door's knob jiggling and she hurriedly stood up from her chair, inching her way towards to guard the person on the other side from seeing in.
The door opened harshly revealing a peeved off guard glaring distastefully at Doctor Washington. "What the hell's going on in here? Is Morello being an unruly inmate?"
Inmate? Poussey almost flinched at the word her client was being addressed as. However she held her composure and shook her head, bringing her arms up to fold over her chest. "Everything's fine, sir. Lorna's just a little upset but I'll get her calmed down. You don't have to worry. She's really a sweet girl, she just has some emotions she needs to work through," she made to sure to put an emphasis on Lorna's name so that the guard would also refer to her as such. Lorna wasn't a criminal and certainly shouldn't be treated like one.
"Yeah well you better make sure she's calmed down or else. We don't tolerate whatever emotions your client is exhibiting," the guard sternly demanded before violently shutting the door once more causing a visible jolt as it came in contact with the wooden frame.
Poussey took in a breath and then made her way over to the corner where Lorna had herself crouched up in. She knelt down right beside her and placed a delicate hand carefully onto one of Lorna's she saw resting atop the floor. "Lorna, would it be okay with you if I wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gave you a hug?"
A rawness was felt each time Lorna swallowed to somehow stop the sobbing. She craved the comforting physical contact of another human but the self-loathing kept her from moving or responding. As if her entire body froze up and she had no feeling within any of her limbs. The tears were the only thing that still came out of her, much to her dismay. She wanted to wipe at them with her hands but when she tried to lift them they refused to budge in the slightest.
Lorna opened her mouth and a gush of air flew into it making her cough from the unexpected exposure. She finally found it within herself to at least verbalize a response and turned her head in her therapist's direction. "Please," was what sniffled out of her in between bouts of crying. An answer she hadn't expected herself to blurt out but at this point she no longer cared and allowed her body to inch closer to Doctor Washington's.
Nodding her head in acknowledgement to the heartrending plead of her client, Poussey scooted a bit nearer as well and soothingly wrapped both of her arms securely around her shoulder. She carefully brought Lorna closer with her arms, taking Lorna's head and letting it lay softly onto one of her own shoulders. "You're all right, Lorna, I've got ya now. It's okay to let yourself cry, crying is good for you. You're not weak or bad for crying or feeling your emotions. Don't listen to anyone who tells you that nonsense, okay? You're a human being and human beings have emotions for a reason. Emotions are not meant to be held in for long periods of times like you seem to hold them in for," her voice tenderly whispered while she ran one of her hands comfortingly along the length of Lorna's spine.
"But, but, the guard—"
Poussey pulled Lorna closer, rocking soothingly back and forth as she held her. Her head shook and she interjected before Lorna could finish the thought, "What the guard said doesn't matter to me. You are my client and what you need is to feel your emotions. You have held them in for far too long, Lorna. Because of listening to people like that guard. The guard is wrong and has no idea what he's talking about. He probably doesn't let his emotions out either and that's why he made an ignorant comment like that."
Shaking her head, Lorna gripped slightly onto Doctor Washington's shirt and peered frantically up into her eyes. Eyes which stared back with only the utmost empathy and compassion. "But the other girls—they'll, they'll see me as weak if I cry and then they'll shank me or something. I don't want that. I don't want to be in here. Can you take me with you when ya leave, please? Please Dr. Washington? I promise I'll be a good girl from now on, I'll stay with the Chapmans… I'll-I'll give my dad my liver…I'll—"
Arms secured tighter around her, she carefully moved Lorna's head from her shoulder right into the crook of her neck. To keep it gently in place she cautiously rested her chin on the top of Lorna's scalp and stroked her fingertips slowly up and down her back. Her own eyes had now a steady stream of tears falling out of them. It formed a sharp pang in Doctor Washington's chest to hear how incredibly distraught and desperate Lorna happened to currently be.
"Oh, sweetie, I wish I could take you out of here when I leave," she softly started off, continuing the soothing motion around Lorna's spine. When she felt a rather harsh tremor come from Lorna's body, she gently began rocking her again. "You shouldn't be in here; you have done nothing wrong and you don't deserve to be here. You are a good girl, Lorna, you don't have to promise anything. The people who are telling you you're not good—they're the bad ones, honey. Not you. You're not bad."
A pause was taken so that Poussey could inhale a few deep breaths. Her hold on Lorna did not falter. Fingertips remained gently caressing along her spine hoping the movement would ease some of her client's distress. "You shouldn't have to stay with a family that treated you the way the Chapmans did. You're a sweet person and there's no reason you should have to be forced to put up with the behavior they showed to you. Lorna, you're not giving your liver to your dad just to please people who aren't and will never be genuine enough to actually care about you. And it's not you're fault they don't care about you, so don't even think that. They don't care because they're not good people."
Sniffles continued escaping through Lorna's windpipe but were muffled since she had turned her head so her face was pressing into the satin of Doctor Washington's blouse. Arms had raised up and thrown themselves desperately around her neck, wishing if she held on tight enough that her therapist would have no choice but to leave the facility with her. "Can't ya just sneak me out with you, please? I really don't wanna go back in there. I don't like it here. I-I thought it would be better than the Chapmans but I was wrong. Real wrong. All the adults are mean here and none a the girls like me. The only nice person is my roommate but I can't stay here, please," her voice frantically cried out as she clung tighter and tighter onto her therapist.
Sucking in her lower lip was Poussey's only chance at stifling the sniffle she felt brewing in her lungs. The sensation of Lorna's needy grip on her just escalated the pang in her chest. Her hold tightened and the rocking picked up a bit. "Lorna, if I could take you out of here I would. I promise you if I was allowed to take you with me I would. But I can't sneak you outta here no matter how bad we both want that. I'm sorry, sweetie, I know that's not what you wanna hear. That's not the answer I wanna give either but it's the only option right now. But that doesn't mean you're gonna be in here for long, okay? I'm gonna find a way to help you out of here and so are the rest of the people who care about you. Nicky stopped by my office this morning; she wants you to know she's thinking about you and she loves you. I know you must be missing her a whole lot right now, yeah?"
Lorna didn't even need to think that question over. Her head nodded on autopilot. More than anything in the entire world did she miss Nicky. Her heart ached tremendously for her Nicky—she worried infinitely for her and if nothing else, hoped Nicky was finally taking care of herself instead of stressing over her. "Is Nicky okay? I'm real worried for her, Dr. Washington."
"She's okay, honey, she just wants what's best for you. If it wasn't for your girlfriend I'd have no clue you were here. She truly cares about you. It's so sweet the relationship you two have."
Bobbing her head slowly up and down Lorna finally felt the tears dry up along with the sniffles ease away. If there was one thing she knew for sure was just how wholeheartedly Nicky loved her—how incredibly much she wanted and worried for her. She didn't ever have to question Nicky's authenticity when it came to the love and compassions she held for her. Nicky showed her endlessly what real love was, what it felt like to be wholly cared about.
"I love Nicky and I just want outta this place so I can see her. Please will you keep an eye on her, Dr. Washington?" She asked, lifting her head from where it had rested beneath the other's chin. Eyes peered desperately into her therapist's brown ones. At least if she could get Doctor Washington's word that she'd keep tabs on Nicky, she wouldn't have to worry as much about whether there might be a possibility she was getting her hands on that pesky heroin again.
Giving a gentle pat against Lorna's back, Poussey nodded her head and let her lips curve into a faint smile. "Sure, Lorna. I'll make sure to check in with her. And I'll also see if I can't talk with the staff here to see if maybe a visit can be set up for you and Nicky. Would you like that? It'll have to do while I keep working on how to get you out of here."
"I'd like that a lot, Dr. Washington. Thank you. I'm sorry for cryin' all over your shirt, I hope I didn't ruin it or nothin'. If I did you can just charge my sista more for the appointment and I'll pay her back," Lorna told her, lifting a hand up and wiping at her eyes.
Poussey couldn't resist from allowing a light-hearted chuckle to escape right after she heard the young teen's comment. Arms tightened around her and she gave one last comforting squeeze to her before finally releasing her hold all together. She carefully stood up and then helped Lorna up as well by the gentle pulling of one of her hands. When they were at eye level—or as close as to eye level as possible with their slight height difference—she fixated her stare into Lorna's eyes with a more serious demeanor. "You never have to apologize to me for crying. You're allowed to cry and I want you to cry when you feel like you need to. Don't worry about my shirt. It can be washed. That's not a problem, honey. Now, you just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, don't be afraid to reach out to me. I gave my contact information to one of the guards so you can tell them to dial out to Dr. Washington if you need to talk to me before I'm able to come visit with you again. And I promise your loved ones and I are working on a way to get you released from here. You just focus on getting through each day one at a time, Lorna. It'll be okay."