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After breezing through Damien’s letter, where he tells me about college life, how much he misses me, and how he’s counting down the days until he can see me again, I fold it up, and hop off my bead. I move the light wire bed frame and twist off the tip of the left brass knob on the frame and pull out a small screwdriver.
I took the screwdriver from Daddy’s toolbox a long time ago. It’s not like he ever uses his tools. And besides, he has like twenty of the same screwdriver, so I knew he’d never miss it. I palm the rusted metal tool, and kneel down, jimmying one of the hardwood floorboards loose. I’ve hidden Damien’s other two letters in this spot, and I place the small note and his third letter there as well.
But I keep the locket on.
For now anyways.
This way, I can always have Damien’s heart right next to mine.
Chapter 23
~AFTER~
I’ve been getting flashes lately. Little visions that pop into my mind for a second, if that, and then in another flash, they vanish.
Most of them tell me nothing of importance.
The one I get the most often is me standing somewhere in a white dress. My raven hair is parted down the center, flowing over my ivory shoulders in a cascade of curls.
Another one is a sound. Not necessarily a flash because I’m walking through darkness. A baby howls in the distance. A needy cry and it’s like I’m searching for the tiny human. There’s an urge rushing through me that once I find the baby I need to comfort it. The only problem is that I do never do, find the infant that is.
Dr. Watson seems pleased that I’m making progress. The day before yesterday, he flashed me a smile that touched his eyes, something I’ve never seen from him, and then he pulled me into a hug. Another affectionate first from the cold, yet striking doctor.
But it’s progress to him. Not progress to me because these visions still tell me nothing. They don’t give me any indication of how or why I came to be here.
I’ve seen Damien a few times since our little tiff on the way to the infirmary. I’ve tried to talk to him. Tried to apologize. Assure him that whatever happened between us was just a misunderstanding, but every time I open my mouth, he shakes his head and stalks off in the opposite direction.
Today I’m being rewarded for progress and good behavior. Dr. Watson has spoken to Marjorie and she’s going to be taking me out of my cage and outside for the day. I’m beyond thrilled by this. Aurora was right. Maybe it does pay to behave and I’m even more sure of that when Marjorie arrives at my door with a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.
The denim and cotton feel spectacular against my skin. The pants rough and the t-shirt light and breezy. I contemplate asking Marjorie if I can wear this outfit to bed and then tomorrow and then the day after that, but she’s got a scowl on her yapper and I decide not to give her a reason to bark at me.
At the entrance to the courtyard the sun is already beaming through the two rectangular windows on the metal double doors, and I take a deep breath imagining the wind in my hair, the sun on my skin and the enticing scent of fresh air as I take it into my lungs. When Marjorie finally opens the door, I practically bolt outside into the lush, green courtyard and within seconds I’m rolling around on the neatly manicured grass.
I close my eyes as the wind blows, tousles my hair, and eases the heat from the sun overheating my skin. Damien and I used to spend hours like this in the summers. Covered in blankets of each others arms, beneath the tall tall grass, basking in the beauty of the outdoors and the blazing summer sunshine.
I miss those days.
Now that I’m making progress, I can’t wait to have them back.
Someone lies down next to me. I can hear their body thud and the short grass as it rustles against it. I smile, hoping that it might be Damien. I don’t know why I’m thinking that. I know, Damien, spends most of his time in the men’s ward. I open an eye and instantly close it, a scowl forming on my lips.
It’s not Damien.
It’s Aurora.
“Hey,” she says in a meek voice.
“Hi.” My voice is anything but meek. I hope she can sense the disdain in it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t.
“It’s gorgeous out, isn’t it?” she chirps in a singsong voice.
I roll my eyes behind my eyelids. “Yeah.” There’s a small part of me that just wants to be done with the drama and just put what happened between us in the past, but there’s an even bigger part of me that knows I’ll never be able to get over the fact that she betrayed my trust and our friendship.
Let’s face it, I could have ratted her out. I could have told Marjorie that she too had been neglecting her medication and stuffing her pills in the wall right along with me. But I didn’t. Because unlike her, I am not a rat.
Aurora shifts in her spot and I can feel her hovering a little too close to me. Opening my eyes, I shield the sun from them with my forearm and turn to face Aurora. She’s propped up on her elbow, plucki
ng blades from grass from the ground. Scrunching her eyebrows together and puckering her lips, she opens her mouth slightly. I think she’s going to say something. Until Merilee Winter steps in between us narrows her eyes at me, scowls, and snaps, “Can you believe Meredith Thompson?” she scoffs and rolls her hazel eyes, her wiry brown hair littered with strands of gray, wafting around her pale face. “To think she’d accuse me of sleeping with her husband just because he likes to mow the grass and I like grass.” Then she laughs and skips off, mumbling to herself.
