Carolina in my mind
Chapter 48
Carolina tugged at the chair she'd wedged under the doorknob of her room, wincing slightly at the painful pull in her stomach and thighs. It hurt to sit. It hurt to walk. Performing any physical activity was sure to cause her discomfort. But most of all it burned like pure hellfire every time she had to take a pee. One of the other 'wards' left a small plastic squirt bottle outside her room. Like the kind Lori used instead of toilet paper after she gave birth to Judith. It helped. And Carolina felt sympathy for the woman that gifted it to her, knowing that she must have needed it for the same reason Carolina did.
Carolina's feelings about what happened to her were all over the place. She kept wavering between being angry at herself for fighting the men that attacked her and being proud of every single injury she inflicted upon those disgusting perverts. In the end, they took everything they wanted from her and more, despite how hard she was struggling against them. And she was hurt much worse now than she would have been if she had just leaned back on the desk and let them fuck her. But remembering the sound of the first man's nose crack when she slammed her forehead into his face still felt good.
Reaching for the doorknob, Carolina paused with her hand in midair. She was shaking. And her heart started racing. It had been two days since she was attacked. Her body was still in constant fight or flight mode. She hadn't slept much, which she was sure wasn't helping with her anxiety. Mostly, her inability to control her reaction to something as simple as opening her door was frustrating her and probably making her panic attacks worse than they already were.
"They didn't catch Noah yet," she whispered, reminding herself that there was still hope she might be rescued from this horrible place.
Carolina leaned back against the wall and focused on her breathing. It was coming in rapid shallow pants. She slowed it down, sucking in a breath and holding it before she blew it out slowly through her nose. Her brother's face appeared in her mind, a reminder of the last time she dealt with debilitating panic attacks. It took her years before she could think about her twin without wanting to scream and cry simultaneously. But when that happened, she wasn't living in walking dead world. Carolina made an appointment and got a prescription for anxiety medication to help her over the worst of it. Now, there was no therapy office for her to call. She was just going to have to deal with the pain and the horrible images that kept flashing through her mind in rapid fire until they went away on their own.
Carolina felt for the small well sharpened pair of scissors she had in her pocket. Running her finger along the blade gave her a small sense of control, though the makeshift weapon proved useless during her attack. Another deep breath and Carolina braced herself and reached for the doorknob again. Pulling the door open, she checked the hallway before she stepped out of her room. The place was empty aside from the one old man in scrubs that was methodically mopping the hallway floor at the other end of the unit.
From where she was, Carolina could see the area that used to serve as a nurse's station. And when Dr. Edwards popped up from behind the counter, he started Carolina so badly she almost retreated back into her stuffy hospital room. She could tell by the apologetic look on his face that he didn't mean to startle her. He was probably just looking for something he dropped on the floor at the same time she happened to step from her room.
"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing his thick framed glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Didn't mean to startle you." The man stuttered out a few more non-syllables as he stared at her. Then his face lit up like he'd thought of his best idea ever. "I was just heading down to breakfast if you'd like to join me," he offered.
Carolina quietly considered his offer. She wasn't eager to go anywhere with any man. Especially one that was still essentially a stranger. But Dr. Edwards held a high position within the hospital's deranged ranking system. If she was accompanying him on some sort of errand, Carolina thought the chances of her being harassed or attacked by any of the guards would be significantly decreased. This guy was still a creep. And he definitely wanted to fuck her. She could see it in the way his eyes lingered just a little too long on the tiny sliver of cleavage her scrubs left exposed. Or maybe she was just being paranoid. Either way, she nodded her head and let the doctor lead her down the hall to the room that served as their cafeteria.
When Dr. Edwards offered her a breakfast tray, Carolina took it with a silent nod of thanks. She wasn't really hungry. But the last time she had anything other than water or juice was before her attack. She knew she needed to eat something before she put herself in a worse position than she was already in. If her people came for her, she needed to be able to run. Or at least walk down a flight of steps without fainting.
"What can I get for you?," the girl behind the counter asked. Carolina stared down at the morning offering, trying to decide what looked the least repulsive. She pointed towards a pot of oatmeal. And after the girl put a large scoop in a bowl and handed it to her, Carolina noticed there was a bowl of fresh cut strawberries.
"Can I have a scoop of those?," she asked. The girl grimaced, glancing nervously around the room before she answered.
"Those are for the guards," the girl explained. Carolina nodded her understanding. The girl was only doing her job. Carolina wouldn't hold that against her over some strawberries that were probably going to burn the cuts inside her mouth anyway.
"You can put whatever she wants on my tab."
Carolina turned towards the man's voice, her body seizing with fear as he approached the counter. She still didn't know their names. But he was one of the men that attacked her. And from the way the girl behind the counter was shrinking back, Carolina guessed she wasn't the first woman here that he and his sick friends messed with. The girl moved quickly, scooping up a small bowl of the fresh fruit and handing them over to the guard. He leaned in close as he set them on Carolina's tray.
"You can pay me back later, beautiful," he whispered, the innuendo in his voice making it obvious what he expected to get as payment. Carolina felt her entire body go stiff as he lifted a chunk of her long blonde hair up to his nose and inhaled deeply.
"You know I was on bathroom duty yesterday and my hair accidentally went into the toilet," Carolina announced much more loudly than necessary, earning her a snorting laugh from the doctor behind her. The guard released his grip on her hair and jerked back. Carolina stared at him with her blue eyes wide with shock. She had no idea where the comment came from. But she'd never had much control over her mouth. And apparently, being a sadistic rapist didn't excuse this man from her savage insults and witty repertoire.
"Nasty bitch," the man cursed. He stormed from the room to the sound of twittering laughter from the tables behind him. Carolina swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she fought back the bile that was rising in her throat. When she lifted her tray, the plastic bowls were dancing and clattering against the tray. Dr. Edwards moved forward, taking the tray from her hands.
"How about we eat in my office?," he suggested. Carolina didn't answer. Not even with a nod. But she did follow the man where he led, unable to stop her body from shaking until he had the door closed and locked behind them. The doctor set the breakfast trays down on his messy desk before he crossed the room and retrieved a blanket from the well worn leather sofa near the window. He was careful not to touch her as he wrapped the blanket around Carolina's shoulders. She pulled the fabric tight, willing her teeth to stop chattering.
"That was brave," he said, taking the seat on the opposite side of the desk from her. "...talking back to Gorman like that."
"Brave?," Carolina repeated with a huff. "More like stupid." That fucker already had it out for her. And taunting him was only going to make things worse.
Dr. Edwards laughed. And Carolina watched as he pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his bottom desk drawer. When he offered it to her, she grabbed for it with such enthusiasm the blanket slipped back off her shoulders. Twisting the cap off, Carolina lifted the bottle and took a few hard swigs. The amber colored liquid burned the shit out of her mouth. But the burn she felt as it went down was of the sweeter variety. Carolina sucked in a breath of air as she stared at the bottle in her hands, wondering what might happen if she drank the whole thing on her empty stomach. At the very least, she'd be drunk, which sounded like a spectacular improvement over her current situation. Carolina lifted the whiskey bottle and prepared to start hard chugging like she was at a college kegger party. But she only got another shot in before the good doctor scurried around his desk and snatched his liquor back.
"Making yourself sick won't help," he scolded, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and empathy.
"I wasn't trying to make myself sick, I was trying to make myself drunk," Carolina countered.
The doctor shook his head at her as she leaned forward and grabbed the bowl of strawberries off her tray. After she had her blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders again, she began to pop the slices of ripe fruit into her mouth one at a time. Carolina chewed them slowly on the side of her mouth that those wannabe cops didn't punch her in. That Gorman asshole was probably going to rape her again no matter whan she did, she told herself, so she might as well enjoy the fruit he bought her. By the time she was done with her strawberries, Carolina could feel the effects of the alcohol she gulped down on a two day empty stomach. She tossed the empty bowl back onto her tray and took her oatmeal, eating it in small spoonfuls until it was gone.
"Are you going to need this?," Dr. Edwards asked, holding up a small metal trash basket. Carolina shook her head, relaxing back into her chair and hugging the blanket around herself.
"I can hold my liquor," she promised, though the gurgling in her stomach told a different story. She was considering taking a hard whiskey fueled nap on Dr. Edwards couch when suddenly someone started pounding like crazy on his office door. The loud noise and the sudden fear of who might be on the other side of the door was more sobering than a large cup of black coffee. Carolina rose from her seat, her hands fisting into the blanket as she watched him open the door.
"We've got a new arrival. She's got a sprained wrist."
Carolina relaxed slightly when she saw that it was one of the few female guards who'd been knocking on the office door. They were just as bad as the men. For turning a blind eye to what was going on under their noses. But at least Carolina didn't need to worry about the woman attacking her.
"I'm eating breakfast," Dr. Edwards said. He ticked his head towards Carolina. "If it's only a sprained wrist, she can handle it."
The woman guard turned her attention to Carolina, eyeing her expectantly. Carolina sighed and tossed her safety blanket onto the chair she just rose from, knowing that she'd only be in more trouble if she didn't comply with this woman's orders.
As Carolina followed the woman down the dimly lit hallway, a glimmer of excitement and anticipation began to form in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was just the whiskey talking. But from what she remembered, if Daryl was in Atlanta looking for her that meant that Carol was due to arrive at Grady Memorial any time now. But she also seemed to remember Carol having much worse injuries than a banged up wrist. So Carolina was trying not to let herself get too excited just yet.
Carolina continued down the hall and into the exam room, avoiding eye contact with the guard that was stationed outside the door. She thought she'd prepped herself for every possibility. But nothing could have prepared her for what she saw inside the room. Lying in the bed and nursing what Carolina guessed was the fakest injury in history was her best and most favorite friend.
"Michonne."
Carolina breathed the woman's name, whispering it like a silent prayer on her lips. It took every bit of willpower and control left inside her not to throw herself into Michonne's arms and hug her tighter than she'd ever hugged anyone in her whole entire life. Carolina moved forward, performing a basic exam on Michonne's wrist. They clasped hands fiercely. But only for a moment, while the lady guard's back was turned.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?," Carolina asked, raising her eyebrow and giving her friend a pointed glance.
"My ribs really hurt," Michonne said, actually wincing as she began to lift her shirt. Carolina eyed her with concern, wondering if that injury was more legitimate than her fake sprained wrist.
"Can you go out and shut the door?," Carolina asked. "I need her to take her shirt off so I can look at her ribs and back."
Carolina expected the female guard to give her pushback. But the woman simply shrugged and left the room like she couldn't care less if they decided to have a whole thunderdome cage match inside. The moment the door shut, Michonne swung her legs off the narrow hospital cot. She and Carolina wrapped their arms around each other. And though she was trying her best to keep control of her emotions, Carolina began to sob. Her chest shook and she clung to Michonne like a raft in the ocean.
"It's okay," Michonne soothed. "Daryl's in the parking garage across the street. Tyreese, Sasha, Rick, Carol, even your new friend Noah. They're all over there with him. And we're gonna get you out of here."