Author: MiniAppleSauce PM
'It's okay, Janey. I have plans. Just wait and do as you're told.' A 14 year old deals with the darkness in her head. 'I was never alone after that. It - he - was always there.'Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Words: 1,554 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 10-10-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3064499
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Hi, so I'm Phia. This is my first short story on this site, if you read and like, review and I'd be so grateful! Thanks
The official English oxford dictionary definition of insanity is the state of being seriously mentally ill; in madness. Honestly, I don't believe people really understand what that means. Maybe that's the point.
I was six when the darkness first took over my mind. I don't remember what happened exactly, just that I closed my eyes after a sweet lullaby by my mother and then I woke up three days later and she was screaming until her voice was hoarse. I was never alone after that.
It – he – was always there.
"Tell me about yourself, Janey," Dr Andrews said gently, crossing her legs and leaning her clipboard against her knee. Her pen dangled dangerously from the corner of her mouth and I could see her pearly white teeth in her mouth. Her head was tilted slightly to the left and a few strands of hair had fallen out of her messy bun to frame her face. She was pretty. Too pretty to be a doctor in a place like this. "Janey?"
My only response was to shake my hands gently left to right, rattling the chains that kept me connected to my seat. It was a nice seat. Soft, like a sofa.
"You tell me to do that every time we see each other," I whisper, staring at the cold marble floor. What an odd place to keep a sofa.
"I do," Andrews agreed, "but you never answer...why don't you want to talk about yourself?" I tap a finger against my chains and the noise rings out into the room, sending the whole thing vibrating for a moment. Oh, maybe it's just me that's shaking.
"It's a give-give situation, doctor," I finally manage to mutter as I watch specks on the flawless white floor move. Andrews scribbles something down and then looks back up at me.
"I've already told you about me, Janey. My age," 34. "my hobbies," painting and detective novels. "my boyfriend," Jacob. She adores him. "my parents," Dad and Mum. Mum. An imagine shoots to the front of my mind of a women curled into a ball as I tower over her. Her back is pressed to the wall and she's screaming violently into her fists. Her eyes are wide and on something behind me. I turn-
I'm back in the marble room on the odd placed sofa. Dr Andrews has leant forward with both elbows on her knees just above where the clipboard rests.
"What were you thinking about?" she questions gently. I realise my eyes had been squeezed tightly shut and my vision's a little blurry. It doesn't help that now I'm shaking my head.
"It doesn't matter," Dr Andrews moves to place her clipboard on a little table to her right.
"Of course your thoughts matter-"
"No," I cut in, "who I am doesn't matter. I can't tell you about myself because in the end it doesn't matter. I'm whoever he wants me to be," we're getting to the interesting part, I can tell because Andrews has stopped fiddling with her pen. In fact, I'm almost sure she'll drop it soon.
"Who is he, Janey? You can tell me," I made a mistake. I can be sad. I can be angry or depressed or even scared. But I can never be hopeful or happy without him. And for a second I looked at Dr Andrews and forgot.
JANEY. His voice thunders through my brain like a rocket. My entire body is shaking now, the chains on my wrists and ankles make loud noises at they jangle.
"Janey, shh, Janey!" Andrews must have called somebody because there are firm hands on my body. I push and he shoves me back further.
GET AWAY FROM US. I'm not entirely sure if the words come out of my mouth too but they fill my entire head.
I black out.
I wake up to clattering as a nurse places my – it looks like lunch – food on the table to my left. She looks down at me as I groan and try to roll over unsuccessfully, my short blonde pixie cut still manages to get in my face and I find I can't get my hand to brush my hair out of my face.
"How are you today?" Who are you today? It's a patronizing question and she's tense until I answer.
"...Janey. I'm Janey,"
YOU'RE MINE. My answer seems to have at least appeased one person in the room as the nurse grins and unlocks the padded braces around my body, "what day is it?" Like the nurse, I ask the question I don't really want to know the answer of.
"9 days, dear, since you've last been with us," 9 days. 9 more days on top of the hundreds he has stolen from me.
STOP WHINING. YOU NEED ME. YOU NEED ME LIKE I NEED YOU.
"Thanks," the nurse just leaves, locking the door behind her as I rub at my wrists, "please stop," I whisper to him because I'm tired.
STOP? WHO DO YOU THINK'S IN CHARGE? YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT ME.
"I'm tired," I repeat out loud, "why are you doing this?" he simply gives the same response he's given me for almost eight years.
IT'S OKAY, JANEY. I HAVE PLANS. JUST WAIT AND DO AS YOU'RE TOLD. I drop my head into my hands but don't cry or make a noise.
IT'S OKAY, JANEY. I HAVE PLANS. JUST WAIT AND DO AS YOU'RE TOLD
IT'S OKAY, JANEY. I HAVE PLANS. JUST WAIT...
IT'S OKAY, JANEY. I HAVE PLANS...
IT'S OKAY, JANEY...
JUST WAIT AND-
"NO!" I scream, throwing my dinner plate at the wall, "no, no, no, no, NO!"
JANEY! I shake my head and pull at my hair. I don't even realise the men who burst in and restrain me.
"Please, no, no, no, no! I can't wait anymore! No!" my voice is hoarse from screaming. Kind of like my mother's was when I found her. Kind of like my father's was when he tried to smother me with a pillow.
STOP IT NOW!
"I don't want this! I don't want you!"
YOU NEED ME.
"No. You hurt them! I don't want to wait, go!"
THEY HURT YOU, HURT US! He growls in my head, THEY CALLED US THE DEVIL, NOT THEIR CHILD!
"You! They called you! I don't want this!"
"Stop saying that..."
"I DON'T WANT TO WAIT! Go! Just go or kill me..."
YOU WANT ME GONE?! FINE BUT YOU'LL BEG FOR ME BACK AND WHEN YOU DO I'LL BE RIGHT HERE. JUST WAIT.
It's silent for a moment. I'm alone.
I'm not sure if it's his fault I black out or the doctors around me.
Dr Andrews watches through a one way window as Janey's new – well, current, it's been a little long to call them new – doctor and Janey talk.
"Tell me about your week, Janey." Janey smiles warmly.
"Jon and I walked around the arena a while. The guards, Tony and, uh, Ray? Ron? Ryan! It's Ryan; they let us use a deck of cards to play blackjack. I lost but," Janey shrugs indifferently, "we had fun."
"You're leaving today, aren't you?" Janey laughs.
"Finally, I'm moving to a rehabilitation centre for six months. Then I'm free," the new doctor and Janey shake hands and Janey is wished all the best. As Janey is escorted out, she passes Andrews by the doorway.
"Hey Dr Andrews," she calls with a smile. But it's not a smile Dr Andrews likes. It's the eyes, they're not the same forest green eyes as the scared girl who though it didn't matter. And it's not the carefree look either.
"Are you sure she's ready?" Andrews whispers to Dr Drust, head doctor. He reassures her and leaves but Andrews can't get those eyes out of her head. They were too...no.
That girl's getting out today, she's okay, and so Dr Andrews walks in to see her next patient.
I'm free. Six months and I can do whatever I want. But they don't realise. They don't understand. Insanity is not a disease, he wasn't a disease. It's a scar that can never fade on your brain. It lingers and festers until you're desperate. It was Albert Einstein who said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I told him to leave for eight years before he listened. He told me to wait once before I did and many times after. I'm free again but it's only a matter of time. And the darkness...well, he's always been more patient than me.