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It’s pointless. The entire group gives up on their drawings, watching as Carolina dissolves further into inconsolable sobs; I know I’m not alone in being glad it’s not me who’s lost it this time. I’ll give the therapist credit, too. He tries his best to get her to explain her reaction but, in the end, he gestures for one of the techs to take over.
Louis retrieves Carolina, ushering her out of the day room and down the hall. We all listen as her sobs die down, not because she’s gotten over it, but because she’s gone far enough away to keep being an interruption.
Too late for that.
By the time she’s gone and the art therapist has regained control over our group, the hour is up. I’m kinda glad.
Even though I’m not quite done with my picture yet, I turn the paper over so that I
don’t have to look at Madelaine’s angel.
We’re supposed to get our nighttime meds from the nursing station. Not me. I’ve always been one of the only exceptions.
That night, after dinner, I don’t go back to the day room with the other kids. Back when I first came to live at Black Pine, I used to have this really weird habit of sitting in the corner and talking to the shadows that played out on the wall before they got my meds regulated. Now, just in case, I get more quiet time than most.
I blame Dr. McNeil. Smartass. He’s the one who decided it would be better if I went straight to my room at night where, if I start to talk to the walls again, at least I don’t rile up the other kids.
Amy’s my morning tech; her shift is over at six. The earliest I go back to my room is seven so that means I have to deal with a nighttime tech. Of course, they don’t trust a tech to bring the meds to our rooms. Duncan, my regular nighttime tech, makes sure to accompany whichever nurse is on duty. She brings the meds, while the big goon stands guard, making sure that I behave and take my pills.
Tonight's nurse is Nurse Stanley.
Nurse Stanley is a sour-faced woman in her early fifties who is nearly as thin as Carolina. She has a perpetual frown and hands that look like claws. Her bleached-blonde hair is pulled back so tight that her eyes seem to bulge out of her head. She reminds me of a frog that’s been starved for too long.
She even sounds like she’s croaking when she says it’s time for my meds. I can smell the smoke that clings to her uniform. At least that explains the croaking—though I still like my version better.
Duncan looms in my doorway, his back to the hall, massive arms slapped across his wide chest. He’s so tall and bulky, he barely fits. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The way he stares me down is overkill. I’m probably the least likely escape risk in the entire ward, yet he always insists on watching me like I am.
Nurse Stanley carries a small plastic tray with two dixie cups on it, just like normal. She holds out one of the cups, pinching the bottom with two fingers, and says, “Three pills tonight, Thorne. Two white and a pink. Dr. Gillespie put the order in himself.”
Nurse Stanley is used to my haphephobia. There’s no chance of an accidental touch when she leaves the top of the cup free for me to grab.
Taking the cup from her, I peek inside. She’s right. I poke the little pink one with the tip of my glove. It’s new—and that’s different. I haven’t had a med change since they took my blue pill away.
That one wasn’t so bad. Whenever I saved a couple to take at once, they made me feel like I was floating on a cloud.
I wonder what the pink pill will do before realizing it doesn’t matter. I don’t plan on taking it tonight.
Before Nurse Stanley starts to get impatient, I toss the contents of the cup in my mouth. Practice makes it easy to stick the two white pills behind my upper molars. The pink pill is so small I nearly swallow it. I manage to slip it underneath my tongue just in time.
I drink the water from the second cup carefully. As the tablets melt, the taste is really awful, but I don’t give it away on my face. Once I’ve drunken enough, I make sure to open my mouth and show Nurse Stanley that my meds are gone.
She grunts and takes my water cup back. “Lights out at ten, Thorne.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile and wait for her to leave. I’ve suspected for a while that she knows I don’t always take my nighttime meds—too bad she can’t prove it. Honestly, I’m not so sure that she’d give a crap either way. And it’s not like I do it all the time. Only when it’s Nurse Stanley, and even then so occasionally that she hasn’t had the chance to catch me at it yet.
It’s just… I can’t stand how my sleeping pills make me feel. I don’t dream when I’m doped up, and they leave me feeling hazy, lost, and stupid when I wake up the next morning. So what if I miss a dose or two? At least I take my morning meds religiously.
I’m not so stupid that I spit the pills out right away. Sometimes Nurse Stanley comes back or she might send Duncan in to see if I need anything before they lock me in for the night. I count to fifty before I figure the coast is clear.
I pluck the three pills from their hiding places and stash them in the toe of my slipper with the rest of my supply.
And if the bottom of the slipper is crusted with dried, caked-on mud? I pretend not to notice before tucking my slipper under my bed again.
5
I’m just falling asleep when I hear it. My name. Whispered as softly as a breeze drifting through the night’s sky, I swear I hear someone say my name.
“Riley.”
