“Ashlyn?” Charlotte’s voice says, waking me up.
“Morning...” I say with a rather rude yawn.
“Why do you set your alarm if you never wake up to it?”
“Because it wakes you up.” I reason, sitting up to stand. She laughs and leaves the room to give me privacy. I go to the dresser and change into lighter clothes. I was worried a few weeks back that I would have to wear my winter clothes all through the spring. Sarah told me they had some in storage for when I needed them.
Things have settled down, I guess. Charlotte and I have settled into our routine as roommates. While part of me would rather have a private room, I know I would miss the companionship.
After I straighten my t-shirt, I glance at my pillow. No, probably not yet. It was too early to check. I brush my hair that is inching down my shoulders and then meet Charlotte in the hall. I’m glad she stays with me for most of the day.
I’m still in private therapy with Dr. Cruebel but he claims it will be good for her and I to not spend time with only each other. There are other patients who struggle and need a friend, he says.
I push the door to the cafeteria and head towards the table to pick up my medication for today. I guess I can understand what he means. If I had to spend the day without Charlotte, or anyone else for that matter, in this place, I probably wouldn’t have half a chance. Still... how much longer am I going to be here anyway?
“Morning, Ashlyn.” Sarah says and hands me my medication through a window outside of a cafeteria. I frown when I glance at the pills and see fewer than normal.
“Um...there’s less in here than there was yesterday.”
“Yes,” she says without explanation.
“Am I going to get the doses more frequently then?”
“You can’t spend the rest of your life on drugs. We talked about this.”
“Yeah...I just thought...” I leave the sentence hanging.
“You’ve already been on this medication longer than you should. It’s time to get you off of it. Here you go, Charlotte,” she says, ending the discussion as she hands Charlotte her medication.
Charlotte and I eat breakfast in silence. Instead of talking, we eat as quickly as possible so we don’t have to look at the other patients.
The girl with the teddy bear still has to be forced to eat. Her teddy bear stays with her even though it is quite bedraggled at this point. She’s gotten pushy lately, shoving orderlies away who try to bully her into eating. She looks like I did the first time I looked in a mirror, except her black hair is starting to fall out. She’s just one of the things I have to look at while I eat. I can’t tell if she’s here for an eating disorder or paranoia. Could be both at the same time or one causes the other. Many of the other patients I saw my first day here, that I remember, are gone.
As soon as we’re done eating we leave the cafeteria to go outside. Patients are allowed outside twice a day in two different time slots per gender and level of mental health. Charlotte and I sit at our usual bench facing a green-tipped tree. I close my eyes and lean my head back to soak up the warmth of the sun.
“I’m glad it’s nice out today. I hate it when it’s rainy like it’s been.”
“Yeah,” I say in agreement, ”I hate being cooped up. I can’t wait until I’m out of here.”
“So when is your appointment?” she asks. I pause, confused.
“Appointment?”
“Oh...I thought you were already in the process of getting out...I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean appointment?”
“Well... I wish I hadn’t said anything. Ashlyn, I’m sorry, but I’ll come back to visit you until you get out...”
“You’re...leaving?” I ask, unable to believe what’s happening.
“Yes,” she says with a reluctant nod of her head, “I meet with Dr. Cruebel later today. He’ll decide officially then if I am ready to leave.”
I remind myself to close my mouth and watch the barbed wire twisted into the top of the chain-link fence. So that was why Dr. Cruebel kept telling me to meet other people. He knew Charlotte was going to leave soon. I mean...I’m happy for her but I never expected her to leave.
“Ashlyn, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have told you or maybe I should have told you differently or sooner.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. It was bound to happen eventually. I mean...who knows? I might be out right behind you.” I try to joke but I can tell I’m about to cry, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me...” I say, covering my face. I feel Charlotte put her arms around me and rest her forehead against my temple.
“Ashlyn, I’m so sorry. You have no idea how much I am going to miss you. I was scared to death of this place until you came along. I could not have gotten better without you and I promise I’ll visit you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so selfish. I shouldn’t be crying.”
“Now that’s stupid. Of course you can cry. You’re not selfish; it just means you care.”
I can’t help but smile and laugh at her comment. Yeah...she has changed since I first saw her. How can I get better without her though? I always thought I would have her as a friend here to help support and encourage me. Would I really have to find someone else now?
Charlotte stays with me for most of the time that I am out there. Then she has to leave to attend group therapy. I sit alone for awhile until my face has dried then head inside, feeling a chill as I walk back into the air conditioning and shade of the old building. I glance at a clock on the corridor wall. I have just enough time to run to my own meeting with Dr. Cruebel.
I arrive at the room where I’ve received therapy since I tried to kill myself a few months ago. I guess he figures I’m more comfortable here. No one answers when I knock on the door. Perhaps he’s running late.
Music catches me off-guard. I look down the hall I came from and notice a door is opened a crack. Someone is playing the piano carefully. Each note seems like a lot of pondering went into its placement and execution. I can’t help but be curious and sneak forward to listen. The song sounds familiar even though I’ve never heard it before. I would recognize it somehow if I did. It just...feels familiar I suppose. Against my better judgment I place my hand on the door to crack it open just a little wider...
I jump when Dr. Cruebel grabs the door handle and pulls the door closed. He gives me a stern look as I step back defensively.
“I’m sorry, I just got curious. I shouldn’t have...”
“Curiosity isn’t a problem...except here. I’m sorry I’m late, there was a pressing family matter.” he said with an apologetic half smile as we walk back to the other room. I can no longer hear the music, but it is stuck in my mind still.
I sit in my usual chair, noting the box of tissues and wastebasket are already placed next to me on the coffee table between the armchairs. Yeah, I’ll probably make use of those quite a bit in this session.
“I can’t help but notice that you seem a little preoccupied right now. I don’t want you to feel bad about—”
“Charlotte told me.” I explain. If he keeps talking I won’t have a chance to say anything before I start wailing again. He looks at the notebook in his lap and nods slowly.
“I see. What was your response?”
“I cried...of course. I think I might be starting up again...” I say, and then laugh as tears wet my sore eyes. I grab a tissue and deposit the first victim into the trashcan.
“Nothing wrong with tears. Go ahead and take your time. But, now you see why I tried to get you two to spend more time apart.”
I nod.
“Yeah...too bad I’m stubborn.” I say with a slightly hysterical laugh. I go for the tissue box again.
“I know this is hard for you...both of you. But, I feel like it’s safe for you to be in a private room again and her family situation has improved... It’s safer for her now, at home. Talking with her family has shown me that the safest place for her to be is there at home—”
“I know.”
“It will be easier after some time.”
“I know. I’m just...”
He lets me cry, wiping my tears off and throwing them into the trashcan. I sob occasionally but I try to push it back. When the urge to cry tightens my chest I tense my whole body in retaliation. I will allow a few tears but I can’t blubber like a filly...or a child. Tears are fine...but sobbing is deep and personal. After regaining composure I look up at him.
“It’s not a bad thing to miss someone,” he says as I hand the tissues back to him, “It just means you're human. It’s ok for you to be sad. You can’t just lock the pain away and refuse to cry.”
“I...” I have to stop. I know what I want to say but I have to word it in a way that makes sense. “ When...I was Celestia...I almost never cried...in front of others. I cried once when Luna and I were reunited...I never cried when I was sad. I had to be strong...”
“Strength doesn’t come from hiding tears. It comes when after you’ve finished crying you wipe your tears and try again.”
“I think when Kiera died...when I saw her... Dr. Cruebel, it’s so frustrating. I can almost picture her face clearly. I can see her hair but I can’t see her eyes or her face. It’s all blurry.”
“That probably means you didn’t spend time purposely creating a false memory in your mind.”
“I just... I wish I could see a picture of her...of my family. I can’t see them again and I don’t have memories except for when I almost drowned.”
“How much do you remember from then?”
“Mostly the water filling my lungs. It hurts to think about it.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it. That and the pain in my chest when my ribs cracked and... Wait...”
I closed my eyes and let my mind return to the moment I almost drowned. The water leaving me as I was dragged from the lake, the pressure on my chest...the pressure on my face and the back of my neck.
“I’d be careful of trying to remember everything. You can’t really force a memory or else you risk creating a new one that never happened. Memories are incredibly fluid things to play with. Think hard enough and you can shape them into anything.”
“You’re right. I’ve told you all I remember.”
“Well, that’s enough then. More genuine memories may come back later after you’ve had a chance to see pictures or videos of your family. You were loved very much. Something like that will stay with you even if you don’t realize it.”
I nod.
“When do you think I’ll be better?”
He took forever to answer. He spent most of the delay brushing imaginary crumbs or eraser bits from his notebook.
“I’m not sure at this point. You were this far last time before you had your accident...”
“Do you think I’m going to relapse again?” I ask. He closes his eyes as he sighs, taking his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose.
“You’re not really an exact science, Ashlyn. I’m not saying you could or couldn’t relapse. It really is hard to say. I would rather you had more of your human memories before we discuss this. Speaking of which...” he checked his watch. “I do have some photographs of your family in my office desk. Our time here is almost up but if you’d like we could quickly go there and I can give them to you to hold on to.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.” I say and follow him as he gets up, opens the door for me, and then leads me to his office. I stand in front of the desk as he sits down behind it and slides open a drawer at the bottom right. He removes a plain tan folder and opens it to reveal a few pictures that he slides off into his hand before presenting them to me.
“You tried to destroy these once and we took them away. I’ll, see you next time then.” he says. I quickly nod and give him my thanks then leave the office, looking down at the two pictures in my hands.
The first one is definitely my sister and I. My hair is much longer, halfway down my back, and has a slight wave to it. Kiera...something tells me I remembered her perfectly. She was fair skinned, dark haired, dark blue eyed, and childlike in appearance. We’re making faces at each other. It’s silly...but it’s my sister and a memory I don’t have anymore.
I look at the second picture. It’s all of my family. We’re standing against a split rail fence with farmland scraped over the hills behind us. We’re all posed as if this was a picture to be presented as the example of a perfect family. My sister could almost be my mother’s twin except for the wrinkles and gray hairs that my mother has. I look like both of my parents. My dad has a longer face with my eyes and hair. I have my mother’s complexion and facial structure. That’s all I have of them. Just me and a few photographs. I’m glad Dr. Cruebel saved theses. At least I can see my family. At least we look happy.
I just wish I could love them.