323

Light. Of course light, always light. I sit up groggily, my head throbbing. The light pierces my eyes like another needle. Where am I?

  I hear hollow voices to my right and look over. There are four shapes, white all of them, and glowing in the fluorescent hue of the room.

  “I’m not sure if I’ve heard you correctly. What happened exactly?” The first voice murmurs low and rumbling.

  “He attacked me!” Ah, I remember that voice. It’s him. What was his name? I remember My Nurse saying it, but the name itself eludes me. Regan? Ryan? Reynolds? Reynolds. That’s it.

Proud of myself for remembering, I smile.

 “Miss James, you have something to add to that?” The first voice hums again. It’s deep and husky, and I remember it from somewhere, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t place it.

 “I have reason to believe that my patient has a very strong sense of loyalty, Dr. Hamilton. When Dr. Reynolds and I began having a discussion, I think Max sensed that I was in some sort of danger and needed rescuing. He really does have a very acute mind, if he only had the opportunities necessary to improve       .”

 “Oh here we go again.” Dr. Reynolds cuts in. “Evie, the fact is this poor guy’s got mush for brains and now we see that he’s dangerous too. Dr. Hamilton, this patient is incapable of speech. Before today he’s been almost entirely unresponsive, except for random outbursts of uncontrolled emotion. He’s tried to escape almost monthly. He spends all of his time both downstairs and up in his room engaging in physical activity, training. Maybe he’s an ex-service man suffering from PTSD. I really don’t know. But I do know that he’s in better physical condition than I am and he’s primed for violence. And after today it would appear that he’s looking for a fight. I recommend something that would weaken      .”

  “No!” My Nurse bursts out. “Doctor, you must see that this patient was only trying to help me.”

 “Why would he have reason to suspect that you were in danger of being harmed?” As my eyes clear I can see the first man better. He is tall. As tall as me. And in his husky voice I sense total control. But right now this doesn’t worry me. He seems to be on My Nurse’s side. He’s raising a thick black brow at Reynolds. “Doctor, please explain the nature of your conversation with Miss James.”

Dr. Reynolds’ face grows whiter than his jacket. He glares at My Nurse and I can feel my pulse quicken again. “I was attempting to help her with some career choices.”

 “I assure you I was quite alright, but you see Max….” My Nurse begins.

 “Max?”

 “The patient, sir. I believe he’s very protective, and as you can see I’ve developed a special friendship with him.”

 “You two are both assigned to this patient?”

 “Yes.” They answer together.

 “And yet you seem to have very different findings after months of study.” The tall man clears his throat and puts down his pad. “I think the thing to do is have another look at this Max of yours Miss James.” He pulls off his glasses and starts towards me.

It is now that I notice up to this point there’s been a glass wall between us. He opens a door in it and steps into my side.

 “Hello Max.” He says gruffly. For the first time I’ve found a voice I can’t detect anything from. No fear. No annoyance. No kindness.

Nothing.

Nothing but perfect control.

323

I hear the sound of glass shattering and I dimly sense the flickering of pain on my arm. Then I feel his throat, warm and scratchy with stubble against my hands, and his back pressing against the wall. I’m still invigorated by the sensations of triumph flooding through me after those memories dashed into my head a few moments ago. The rage growing inside was too much to stop. My Nurse was in trouble. How could I not help her after all she’s done to help me?

He was hurting her as they’ve all hurt me.

  The haze of red across my vision clears and I see his eyes, white and wide, with their blue irises flashing crazily. He tries to speak, but chokes against my constraining hands.

How does it feel? How does it feel to have your words throttled in your throat? I wish I could ask him.

I feel pure strength pour out from my heart through my shoulders and down my arms into the very tips of my fingers. The power I have fills me with a strange sense of control, something I can’t remember ever feeling before. I see his face as it grows red, and I suddenly realize that I hold his future in my hands. But a sound from behind me pulls my thoughts away from my power. The other workers are coming. I keep my right hand on my prisoner and with a brutality I didn’t know it possessed my left fist flies out and wards off three of them. I sense one behind me and without conscious effort I hear the crunching of his left knee beneath my foot.

The other rescuers stop their approach in a state of horrified awe. I can see the terror in their eyes. Terror of me.

It feels good.

  “Max.” It’s My Nurse. Her voice is a whisper, slow and firm. But there’s fear behind it. She’s afraid of me too. I never wanted that. “Max, let him go, dear. Let him go.” She pleads gently.

I turn to look at her, and his skin grows hotter beneath my hands. One of the others lets out a low moan as he clutches his leg. I try to speak, but the words won’t come of course. The frustration of this disability releases more of that churning anger pent up inside me and my victim lets out a squeal. I realize I am pressing harder without meaning to. My Nurse lays a shaking hand on my arm. “Oh, Max please let go.” Behind her quiet tone I sense the urgency of her request, not for her sake or his but for my own.

I release him.

Instantly, I feel the cold, familiar sucking of a needle as it glides beneath my skin. Darkness comes, and I fear that I’ll lose those precious memories once again.

But this time is different. This time I don’t forget.

323

The last notes fade away and my breath catches in my throat. I look up and they are all staring at me. All of them in white. Some of the Others stare too, the ones who are able to take notice of anything. I don’t exactly know why they’re staring, but it seems that if I were them I’d be staring at me too. I feel liberated, alive, on fire with the power of that song and these memories. I can remember the notes. I can feel the melody inside me somewhere, accompanied by events and moments and days and nights and years. As I played, I could see a room. It wasn’t room 323, all white and barren. It was a room with colored walls, a soft floor and another piano glassy and black. In the room there was a large window looking out over a field of lights and buildings and stars.

A city. I remember a city.

I smile, but I feel wet on my face and I see three tears spill on the ivory keys and one on my hand.  I look over at My Nurse. She has tears in her eyes too. Tears for me, though why she should cry I cannot tell.

  “Max, I was just telling Dr. Reynolds how well your mind works.” She looks over at the one with the pad and adds, “It looks like you proved it.”

  “Oh, come on, Evie. Just because he can remember a tune on the piano, doesn’t mean he’s got a working mind in there. He can’t speak. Face the facts.”

  “Facts aren’t the only thing in life that matter!” She’s almost shouting, something I’ve never heard her do. The loud voice doesn’t seem like hers. “You just won’t give them a chance, any of them! How can they have any hope of recovery---“

  “Evie, lower your voice.” He whispers, drawing her over toward the wall.

 “---when none of you, the people paid to help them, will give your patients any more thought than dogs.” She tries to push him away and he grabs her shoulders. I stand up.

 “Evie, listen to yourself.” His voice is cold and cynical, as if his throat were coated with ice. I shiver as his hand grips her arm. It’s the same way Their hands always grip my arms, keeping me from being free.

  “Let go!” She wriggles and writhes. “Let go of me!”

 “Shut up, do you hear me? You’re about to ruin your whole career if you don’t throw away that adolescent dreamer inside you and do the job you’re paid to do. Listen to me.” That cold throat is a snake now, hissing at her. He pushes her against the wall, rasping in her ear. The Others continue on, unnoticing and unblinking. The white workers look on in silence. They won’t help. They’re on his side. I can feel something churning inside me, deep down where those memories were a moment ago. It feels like something good and bad all mixed around and swirled together.

Its anger. And I think it’s about to break loose.

323

My Nurse takes me Down Stairs. I want to go Outside, but she tells me to sit and listen to the music. Next to going Outside, the music is what I like best. My Nurse plays on the piano, a soft, gentle sounds that soothes me just like her voice does. Others stop to listen too. Today I don’t feel like listening though, the dream is too fresh in my mind and the doors to Outside call and beckon. I am close to freedom, but the men in white stand in my path with watchful eyes. Others are taken Outside by their Nurses. I long to follow. My ears wander and I catch bits of a conversation of two of Them as they watch me. They are men, dressed in white, but they are not guards or the ones who stroll about. They are the ones with tools and cold hands and slimy smiles. They give the needles and the pills. They scribble black scrawls on sheets and sheets of paper and murmur to themselves. They don’t think I hear their words, or understand them. Sometimes I don’t but sometimes I do.

And so I listen.

  “He’s looking restless again today.” The first one says. He is tall, but not as tall as me.

  “Of course he is.” The second one sends his eyes toward the ceiling and makes a grimace. “He’s always restless after a night like that.”

The dreams. Do they know?

  “Do you know why?”

“Who knows? Were you here when they brought him in?” The shorter one pulls out his pad of paper and starts scrawling as he watches me. I pretend not to see them staring.

 “No. What’s the story behind it? Relatives all dead?”

Story. My Nurse tells me stories, but she’s never told me mine. I listen more intently.

  “No one knows for sure. Hamilton diagnosed him with amnesia. Something’s off in his vocal memory obviously. The people who brought him in said they found him wandering around their trailer park with not a soul with him. As far as we could tell, he didn’t have any ID or any emotions.”

“Nothing?”

 “Nothing. He was just like his is now. Placid, except for those random nights. We waited for someone to come looking for him for the whole first year but no one ever did and probably no one will. This sort of thing can happen with drug abuse. Probably whoever his family is they have too many problems of their own to bother with his. The escapes started seven months after he came. I’m assigned to monitor his progress, but if you ask me there’s no hoping for a cure.”

“Apparently Evelyn disagrees.” The tall one motions toward My Nurse, and I notice that the music has stopped. She is looking over at the two in white, and her face is different than it has ever looked before.

  “Max,” She says to me quietly. “Come play.” She stands and walks softly, slowly over to them. By “Come play,” she means the music. I stand uneasily. I can’t remember ever playing the piano before. But when I sit down to play, something feels right. The three of them are speaking too lowly to hear now, so I play. And somehow, the music washes over me and the melody buried in my memory takes control.

And for the first time in my conscious mind, the world feels real again.

 

 

 

 

( In case you want to hear the inspiration behind some of this here is Max's song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9haTFoGcvk )

So here's a rant. I'm going to start counting these as "Creative Nonfiction" ;)

ok sorry but I have a little rant today.

DID NOBODY SEE BAMBI???

Like seriously people. Watch it. Sit down and study it. LISTEN TO THE BUNNY. GO. RIGHT NOW. LISTEN TO WHAT THE LITTLE BUNNY SAYS. Wise words that little bunny has to say.
Its quite simple really. But it can save you a lot of trouble in life:

If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all!

And there you have it. An easy way to have successful relationships. Now, not always of course. Some fights are worth fighting. But what is with all these unnecessary put-downs? Every day, every where, I hear people being majorly negative about the must stupid, unimportant, insignificant things! I get that we all do this sometimes, but lately it seems as if everyone is seriously just out to find all the bad things in life. Maybe its just teenagers, but if that's the case then I'd challenge our generation to change the stereotype.

If you don't like someone's t-shirt, here's a thought, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHARE THAT INFORMATION WITH THEM.

If you think somebody is just downright stupid, YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL THEM THAT.

Sometimes I think its better to wait for someone to ask your opinion. If you're not constantly throwing your thoughts around, your ideas will probably be more valued when you do speak.

By the way, I am totally an offender of this (as are most human beings) so forgive my hypocriteness.

Basically, today I'm feeling like we could all remember Thumper's little saying or Proverbs 15:1 "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger."

That being said, I hope everyone has a stupendously awesome day! ONE TO GO UNTIL VACATION. WE ARE SO CLOSE PEOPLE!!!!

a little country tune

Hide your crazy no siree
Too late for that too late for me
The world's already seen it
And most of them believe it
I'm crazy as a an eight and I'm
Blonde as
A palomino pony
In the pasture like a
Bowl of macaroni
And I'm
Sure that's not for most
But I'd take a sec to boast cuz I ain't
Runnin' like a chicken in the face of life I'm livin'
Got my face out in the wind even
If tornado's brewin'

So don't give me that look honey cuz I know
Just
What
I'm
Doin'

Goodbye Lullaby

Be it our first dance

And the last

Or just the first of many

Let my words give you courage

In times of doubt

Remember this song

And remember my love

And remember how strong you are

 

Be a star in the universe

Be the light in the world, mine and theirs

May the anthem of compassion

Be the song upon your lips

And the gentle touch of kindness

 Rest always on your fingertips 

 

I can’t forget your smile

So don’t you

And I’ll always hear your laugh so let it ring

Out for all to hear

Stay you

And stay true

Let honesty take you where it may

And the truth

Shall always set you free

 

Let your heart be never full of anger

And let your mind

Gather wisdom

Like pearls up from the sea

Remember me

And love without fear

 

You

Can reach your dreams

But don’t forget to thank all of the me’s

We were there

Along your way

Always there

And even though you couldn’t

We wanted you to stay

 

Let your mouth

Speak only words of meaning

Let your heart

Rest when it grows weary

Of this world

And let it be God

Who shows you the path you are to take

And no one else

For none other knows the way

 

Keep to that path

And keep to Him

And never, ever dare forget

You are strong

But sometimes you’re wrong

Too

 

Letting go of things

You love

Feels like the easy route

But you might find

Some things you let fall away

Were worth the fight

 

So remember

This lullaby of mine

And when the darkness grows

When the shadows close

Think of me

And all the good times

And know

That out there in this whirling world

Of darkness and of tears

Your name

Is whispered in my prayers

 

So I’ll say goodnight

And I’ll say goodbye

And I’ll end this

Lullaby

323

I am almost there when I feel a strong hand gripping on my arm. They’re here. A flash of a memory déjà vu’s through my mind and I see the same tired scenario a hundred times at least. I’m almost there. But I don’t make it. Because they stop me.

I struggle, but more hands join the first in pulling me back, and then the stabbing of the needle blackens everything. When I wake the room is spinning, something you never really get used to, no matter how often it happens, and I see My Nurse leaning over me. I call her mine because she is the only one whose voice sounds sincere when she talks to me. She’s the one who comes and reads to me. She’s the one who took me Outside.

 The room is light now from the sun shining in through the window, and I want to go over and press my hand against the glass. I know it will be hot.

  “Good morning Max.”My Nurse says cheerfully. She smiles so hard that it makes me wish I could smile too. I don’t’ remember if I know how to smile. For a moment I forget everything and stop to try it, but before I can My Nurse pats my hand and her touch startles me. So I forget the smile too. “Here we go, drink this up. I know you don’t want to, but I promise I’ll take you downstairs if you do.”

 Down Stairs? Outside is Down Stairs.

I drink the orange liquid. It tastes like something I can’t remember, but I know there’s pills in it. I remember the pills.

“Having dreams again, were we, last night?” She mixes something in another cup while she talks, and her voice soothes me. I sometimes wonder if her voice is just better trained than the others, but then I look in her eyes, and I know it’s not. She really does want me to feel better. “Oh Max,” She sighs. “I wish I knew why you had such awful nightmares. I wish you could tell me about it. It might make you feel better.”

She knows about the dreams.

The dreams don’t come every night. Or do they? I can’t remember. It is strange, because only when the dreams come can I remember anything. Every day here is a day all on its own without the dreams. Each day feels like the only day to ever exist. But when the dreams come I remember that other days have come and gone. Only one of the memories is from before room 323. I remember coming here. I remember when I first came, how all the Nurses smiled at me and…liked me, it seemed. And I remember the first escapes. That’s when they stopped liking me. Now they just groan. All but My Nurse. She still smiles. I wish I could tell her thank you. But I can’t, and I can’t remember why.

Then there are the dreams. They’re always the same. I see Her face. I don’t know who She is. But she’s crying. Her tears are soft and her face is beautiful. And I hear her whisper a name. It’s not “Max,” but somehow I know it’s my name. And I want to find Her. I’m close. But just as I’ve almost found Her, I wake up.

323

Its 3:23 a.m. and I can feel my heart still keeping rapid time inside my chest cavity. I try to relax, to close my eyes, but the pounding continues. I feel sweat start to break out. It’s one of those massive, almost menopausal hot flashes where you all of a sudden feel that the heat of a thousand suns just burst forth three inches from your face. I throw my blankets and sheets off and swing my legs out of bed. The moon shines through the blinds in stripes across my wall and in the darkness I feel my skin begin to cool down.

  I can’t think. Too many thoughts are blaring like alarms in my head until I think the ringing will really never stop. Without thinking, I cry out, then bite my tongue as I see shadows block the light under my door. I hear the lock turn. And I know what’s coming.

  “Max? What’s going on?” Her voice is trained to sound soothing, but there’s a coldness behind it that doesn’t fool me. She knows my name, but I don’t know hers. Do they have names? I can’t remember. I shake my head, trying to stop the bells. “Did we fall out of bed?”

 No idiot, even I can tell that I didn’t fall out of bed. I’m still sitting in bed. Only my feet are out.

I shake my head and try to wave her off before she can make me get back in bed.

  “Now, don’t be like that. Back in bed we come.” I stand up, staggering toward the wall. I don’t want to go back to bed. Bed is hot. Bed is constrictive like a cage. Bed is where the dreams come. “Max!” She gropes after me, trying to force me back. But I’m bigger than she is: my only advantage. “Max!”

No!  I manage to pull away from her pawing hands and towards the light of the hallway.

“Dr. Morgan I need some assistance in room 323.” That box in her hand fires muffled words back at her. I know somehow, it must be a memory, that they will be here in a minute. But I’m almost to the open doorway. “Max, get back in here!”

No! I can make it out of here!

Even the thin layer of soothing film has worn off and her voice sounds tired… frustrated….angry even. I know those feelings. I understand. I make her that way. I make all of them that way. And they repay me by making me that way. But no more.

 I’m through the doorway. I’m free! The light screaming down on me feels like an attack all its own. My eyes focus and I can see down the hall. There. There is the door. I know that door will lead to Down Stairs and Down Stairs is the way to Outside.

I start to move more quickly, and my legs are surprised by their own strength. I can imagine the wind on my face as I haven’t felt in months. I’m almost there. I know if I can get to Outside the dreams will stop. Because if get to Outside then I can find Her. And I won’t want anything else.

♥ A song of Praise ♥

I will choose to be joyful in the LORD

I will choose to trust

And love as You loved me

In the light of my Savior’s love

I’ll sing

And the voices of a thousand angels will ring

Out, out for all to hear

For you

For me

For him

For her

 

And every knee will bow

Mine

And yours

Here and now

And I’ll sing

With the voice You’ve given me

I’ll be still and know that You are God

And the world will spin as it hasn’t in years of old

Anew

Anew with Hope

 

And the Truth will be spoken

And the darkness covered

And Death will feel the sting of defeat

You will reign

And angels will sing

Forever

 

Until that day comes

I will choose to be joyful in the LORD

And in the light of my Savior’s love

I too will sing

Forever ever

Ever