323

My Nurse’s voice draws me out of my reverie. I look up at her and see that she is smiling, but her eyes are red and wet. Why? Tears… what do tears mean? I don’t understand them. I remember them, but I don’t know how. I can’t remember ever crying. In the dream, She is always crying. That must be how I can remember.

 I want to understand and I want to help. But how can I with no words to say and no functioning brain to comprehend? I use the one thing I can control: my body, my muscles and limbs and nerves. I reach out to her and take her hand. She looks at me and starts to cry harder.

Great. Somehow I’ve managed to make the situation worse.

  “Oh Max, somewhere in there you’ve got a personality, don’t you? You understand me somehow. I know you do. There has to be a better way for you. A better place.”

She sits down on the pillow on the floor. Its white, like everything else, and soft. Even my bed is soft all the way around. I know why. It’s because I used to bang into things. I had a chair once, and a table with a vase full of fresh flowers. But I broke them, and something red and warm spilled on the floor. After that, they took my chair away and put the pillow there. Other than the bed, the only things in room 323 are the pillow for My Nurse and the light, which is too high for me to reach. Everything is pristine and barren looking.  

 “I forgot a book tonight, so I’ll just tell you a story ok?” My Nurse murmurs in a voice that isn’t quite steady yet. I look at her and blink. I like stories, especially the ones My Nurse tells. “Once upon a time, in a land faraway, there lived a young man. He lived with lots of other people, in a white house.” She pauses and twirls her pale hair around her finger. “In the white house, the people all had problems. And the workers tried to help them. But the workers couldn’t understand what was wrong with some of the people. The young man was one of these. He looked strong and healthy, but he never spoke, and he didn’t seem to understand the workers. One of the workers was sure that he could understand some things, but the doctors didn’t think so, so they didn’t even want to help him. They didn’t want to help the lady down the hall either, or the older man in room 144. They don’t even try…” Her voice trails off and she sobs hard, burying her head in her lap.