CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LAURA

I WAKE TO Violet’s laughter. It dances around the room, bouncing off the walls, taunting me, killing me slowly. I can picture her curls bouncing around her smiling face, her eyes sparkling. My father’s voice now joins the image saying her eyes were filled with madness, but that’s wrong.  To me they were alive, she was magical. She made you believe that anything was within your reach.

I had dreamt of her last night, of finding her on the bathroom floor, the tablets spilt across the blue tiles like I’ve seen in the movies. Only this wasn’t a movie, this was my sister, her Violet dress so stark now against her skin.

I knew my sister was dead. It wasn’t the stillness of her chest or the tablets that trickled across the floor. It was the blue taint of her skin. That was how I knew she was dead. I stood, taking in her legs that were tucked under her; she had fallen sideways, the brown bottle still in her open palm, her hair splashed across the floor.

Three paces and I reached her, pulling her up into my arms. I held her as my lungs burned for air. I held the most precious thing to me as my body trembled, refusing to accept what I held. I closed my eyes as my world crumbled around me so violently that at that moment, I don’t recall crying. My mind too noisy for anything else – only the solid body that filled my arms. I don’t recall anyone coming. I must have been numb. My memory of that day stops there and starts back up the morning of her funeral. That meant I had lost three days of memory.

Sitting up in the bed stops Violet’s laughter. My skin feels too tight on my body, like it’s stretched tightly across my bones. My body feels foreign to me. I scratch my neck. Something bothers me about finding Violet.

I let myself relive that moment over and over again searching for something. Walking up and down the small room doesn’t help my frantic mind or my erratic heart. I don’t want to keep seeing her face, yet I can’t stop.

Exhaustion has me crumpling back onto my bed, rubbing my eyes. I clench my fists, tears burn my eyes, my throat tightens, and laughter claws its way up and out my mouth. I grit my teeth as I laugh.

Rose steps into my room. A door to lock was a privilege I would have loved right now. She smiles at me while taking a quick glance around the room, searching for the source of my amusement. I no longer laugh. I flex my stiff fingers out trying to relax my body.

“Is everything okay? I ask because you didn’t come to your appointment yesterday evening.” Rose tucks her clipboard to her chest. 

“I wasn’t feeling well, remember I was with you and I left because I was tired.”

“You were with me two days ago...” She looked at her clipboard briefly, “The nurse didn’t inform me that you were unwell.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, not meeting her eye, my heart pounds. Two days have passed?

“Laura, sweetheart.” Rose sits down beside me on the bed. “When you signed in, we did explain that any illness, no matter if it was a headache, must be reported to the nurse. Two days locked away in your room needs to be explained.”

“Sorry Rose. I just lost track of time.”

“Well I’m free now. So we can have that session.”

I grumble internally but smile at Rose. “I’ll just get changed.”

She stands. “See you in five minutes,” she says from the doorway. Her warning to arrive, received.

I dress quickly, even as my mind tries to think back to yesterday. Hadn’t I been out last night with Craig and we’d kissed? I smile as I think of the kiss.

***

“Tell me why you were smiling earlier?” Now Rose smiles at me, a yellow notepad resting on her crossed knees.

“I was thinking of my sister’s smile.” I can feel the smile tug at my lips just thinking about her, the reality that I would never see that smile again has me glancing away from Rose.

“Which sister?” I smile now at Rose. This smile is genuine. Mary was a ghost of a sibling, she was there but I didn’t know her. Whereas Violet was my sister. “Violet.”

“You speak a lot about Violet,” Rose makes the observation and I just nod. “Tell me a memory of her,” she speaks so gently, with a kindness that tightens my throat. “A fun memory,” Rose adds.

“That’s easy,” I smiled, thinking of Violet. Violet being taken to the basement, Violet crying in my room as I cut off all her hair, Violet protecting me from my father, Violet dead on the bathroom floor. My eyes burn.

“Take your time, Laura,” Rose speaks gently again. “Why don’t you tell me your earliest memory.”

I find myself smiling again. Yeah that’s easy, I think to myself while pushing the tears that threaten to spill back. My mind goes back to Violet being taken to the basement. I shift in my chair. Searching my memory for a smaller version of Violet. A Violet who went to school. A Violet who ate dinner with us. A Violet who played. A wave of dizziness hit me.

I look up at Rose as she waits. “The Basement…” I take a deep breath. Trying to come up with something. Mary was there so was Thomas, but Violet? I can’t remember her. “I can’t remember.” My chest tightens, and I rub it, trying to loosen whatever is clutching at me.

“That’s okay, Laura. Deep breaths,” Rose speaks but I don’t look at her. I continue to search my mind for one memory of Violet.

“It’s not okay-” I glance up now, my breaths coming out in puffs. “How could I forget my sister…” I’m shaking my head while Rose reaches for me.

“It is okay, Laura. You are under a great deal of pressure.”

“No, you don’t get it, Rose. It’s Violet,” my voice rises on my sister’s name. “You don’t just forget her,” I was starting to shake. I stand rubbing my chest, while looking for a window. “Why are there no windows in this bloody room.” I’m spinning, the walls start to close in. “Rose?” The pressure on my chest is terrifying. My mind tells me that I’m having a panic attack, while my body tells me it’s a full- blown heart attack.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” Rose helps me sit down; the room dims losing all its color.

 No it’s not okay. I forgot Violet.

With that thought, I didn’t struggle against the pain, I let it in.

***

I groan at the stained ceiling. The bleeping of the monitor is also painful. This is normally safe for me, but right now it’s a reminder of my new condition.

“I’m beginning to think you’re faking,” Craig pulls back the curtain, a grin on his face. My heart immediately picks up at his presence. I’m so happy he’s here.

“I could have been getting changed–” his grin grows. “–don’t respond. What are you doing here?” I sit up slowly.

“I heard you were here.” At my narrowed eyes Craig held up his hands “So I volunteered to visit you. What caused it?” he asked with a side glance.

“Not sure,” I answer, watching him, for signs of what I don’t know. I scratch my arm as Craig continues to watch me as he chews gum. I find myself focusing on his mouth way too long; a slow grin has me looking away.

“See something you like, Laura?” he teases I narrowed my eyes at him, even as my face flames.

“Yeah I do,” I answer and his grin turns into a smile, my stomach dips but I ignore it. Chewing gum. I would love one,” I hold out my hand and Craig snorts before taking the packet out of his jeans pocket.

“You were looking for more than chewing gum the other night.” He holds out the gum but I don’t move.

“The other night?” How was it possible to lose time?

I don’t get an answer as Eleanor arrives. She takes one look at Craig and her lip curls into a snarl. She takes my blood pressure with stiff shoulders.

“How are you, Eleanor?” Craig asks, and I widen my eyes at him as her hands still. She doesn’t answer Craig’s question. I don’t understand why he would think she would.

When she’s done, she leaves but doesn’t pull the curtain closed, instead she writes in her files on a trolley while glaring at Craig’s back.

Delightful.

I wonder what Craig did to her for her to hate him so much. Maybe he broke her heart? I can see how that could happen, even now after only one kiss I knew I was hooked.

“You said the other night,” I return to our conversation and this time I take the chewing gum that Craig gives me, only I don’t put it in my mouth.

“Yeah. You kind of hid after that.” My heart pounds in my chest.

“Hid?” I want him to explain but I also don’t.

“Yeah.” His brows furrow. “I came by your room.” I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.

“Yeah. I just needed space.” I say.

“You like writing. That’s another thing I found out about you.” I’m trying to keep my heart rate from beating wildly in my chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You were writing in your diary and barely looked up at me.” Now Craig looks unsure. “Are you okay?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. Well I’m in a hospital bed.” I try to laugh but it doesn’t sound right.

“You know I’m not talking about here.”

I can’t look at him now. I hate lying, I normally don’t lie, but until I can figure this out, I’ll keep two days lost to myself.

“Yeah I’m just tired, Craig.” He relaxes his tense shoulders. My words are true. Eleanor tells Craig to leave because it’s coming up to meal time. He does so slowly, deliberately driving her mad.

It’s horrible but once he’s gone I feel relief.

Once Eleanor’s back is turned, I go to my room and retrieve my diary as I flick the pages walking back to the hospital, I’m surprised at all the writing. It’s my handwriting but I have no knowledge of writing so much. I climb back into the bed with a pounding heart and a sense of dread drips down my spine as I open a page.

Gold, yellow, white amber,

Flash, Clash, and create.

A tear,

A smile,

A laugh

A sob.

 

These souls live

These souls die

Turn the heart to stone

The soul to ice

The mind to pause.

 

Raise my soul

Steal my memories

Take my pattern

 

Red, blue, white, black

Control, contract and press.

Water substance, a movement, a noise to indicate I’m in here.

I wipe away the falling tears. My chest is tight. It’s the words that I wrote but I don’t remember doing it. I close the diary, unable to look at it anymore. My mind reads it like it understands it, yet that process of converting what I’m seeing into a thought gets lost in transition.