Chapter Twenty-five
Layla
It had been five days, two hours, and twenty-nine minutes since I had last spoken a word to anyone. I had never been this aware of time before, but you’d be surprised how aware of time one became when they stopped speaking.
Being locked up in a mental institution didn’t help with my need to obsessively stare at the clock. I had nothing but time here. What was I waiting for? Because I had to be waiting for something. After all, you didn’t become obsessed with time unless you were waiting for something, right?
I sat up on the small bed in my room as I watched the doorknob turn. “How are you today, Layla?” An old man came in and sat down in a wooden chair that had been bolted to the floor. I wasn’t allowed shoes with laces, but I guess they didn’t think I was able to hurt myself with a chair that was bolted to the floor.
I shrugged and rolled my eyes at his question. How did he think I was? I was locked up against my will for another forty-two hours and eleven minutes. My stomach growled embarrassingly loud. I kept a straight face while the doctor raised an eyebrow.
“Still not eating, huh? Would you like to tell me why that is? I understand you’re under a lot of stress. I’m hoping we can alleviate some of that stress, Layla.” The doctor handed me a notepad and a pen. I wrote without further prompting.
I hate it here. I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but this isn’t going to work. Please…just let me go home.
No snark. No sarcastic remarks. I didn’t have it in me. I was tired. Exhausted beyond words. I wanted Ryder. I wanted my bed in his house. I wanted the damn tears to stop. Wiping at my eyes like a stubborn child, I gave him the pad. He read it without making an expression. That pissed me off.
“I’m sorry Layla. I’m afraid the answer is the same as when you were admitted last night. You have to wait seventy-two hours to leave.”
My hand twitched. I wanted to throw the notepad at him. The security guard moved slowly toward me. They knew I had killed someone. They didn’t care that it had been in self-defense. They didn’t care that the person I had killed had abused me. Broken me in ways I hadn’t even known were possible.
All they saw was a murderer who didn’t talk and hadn’t eaten in days. They didn’t care about me. They were just getting paid to babysit me until they could throw me in jail and throw away the key.
It wouldn’t do any good. I was already dead. There wasn’t anything more they could do to me. I was already living my own life sentence.
The doctor just smiled. “Would you like some water? You’re still drinking that, aren’t you? I could get you something more nutritious. Milk? Juice? Coffee?”
Coffee isn’t nutritious doc
He laughed. “I suppose you’re right. It has more flavor than water, at least. Would you like some?”
I thought for a moment. I hadn’t had coffee in days. The sugar might help me with feeling so tired. I didn’t deserve to eat, but surely coffee was okay.
Two sugars
He smiled. “Jerome, would you get Layla some coffee, please? Two sugars. Thank you so much.”
Jerome, the security guard, eyed me cautiously. “Are you sure, Dr. Marston?”
“Yes, I believe Layla will be fine alone with me for a few minutes.” Translation: I can handle a few minutes alone with the crazy girl who hasn’t eaten in five days.
Jerome shrugged and left the room. I rested my head on the pillow on the cot I was given. I’d been feeling light-headed lately. Probably due to not eating.
“Layla, not eating isn’t going to help whatever it is that is bothering you. If you told someone, it might help. Get the weight off your chest. I know you’ve gone through things I couldn’t possibly imagine, but just because I don’t understand doesn’t mean talking won’t help.”
I shot him a glare. He just kept smiling. I wanted to rip that chair out of its bolts and hit him with it. Never mind that I probably didn’t have the strength.
He adjusted his glasses. His glasses were sleek black frames. They made him look smart. He’d probably be cute too, if he was twenty years younger. He was cute. But older men creeped me out. It wouldn’t matter how nice he was. “How about your parents? Were they aware of what went on? Or did this start after they died?”
I sat up so fast I almost passed out. The doctor got up quickly and stood by me, his hands out, probably in case I fell.
“If you don’t eat soon, you’ll end up with a feeding tube,” he warned, his voice firm. “You don’t want that, I assure you.”
If you’re the expert, what do I want?
“You want help. You want someone to listen to you without judging you, without pitying you.”
Damn, he was good. My stomach growled again, making me wince in pain.
“We have chicken sandwiches, mashed potatoes, peanut butter and jelly, yogurt, apples, carrot sticks, pizza…” He trailed off. “That’s about it, I’m afraid. Tight budget.”
I sighed, thinking it over. The thought of food was making my mouth water. My mind kept telling me I didn’t deserve it, but I ignored it. My stomach was too insistent.
Peanut butter and jelly?
“That’s better. One peanut butter and jelly coming up. I’ll be right back.”
Setting the notepad down on the floor, I lay down. I just needed to rest my eyes for a few minutes.
“I reheated your coffee and kept the peanut butter and jelly in a plastic bag so it wouldn’t dry out.” The doctor was sitting in the chair in my room.
Reheated? I sat up and glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes later. I must have fallen asleep. Dammit.
“Good, at least you’re sleeping. I was afraid you had been denying yourself that too,” he said as he handed me a plate. Opening the plastic bag, I wolfed down the sandwich. It tasted so good! The coffee was just the way I liked it and I almost downed the cup in one gulp.
“Would you like another? Or more coffee?”
No but thank you
He smiled. “Feel like talking? Or writing, in your case?”
I raised an eyebrow.
Will it get me out of here?
“No, I’m afraid it won’t.”
Didn’t think so
“It won’t get you out of here, but it could prevent a longer stay. The court sees you as mentally unstable right now. If you talk to me, I can write about everything you tell me and maybe convince the jury that your actions were justified, Layla. Please, you can trust me. I believe you’re innocent in all this.”
I did kill him. I’m not innocent. I haven’t been innocent in a long time
“Hmm…Were you angry at Mr. McDermott?”
My hands shook as the pen hovered over the paper. His grinning face invaded my mind and wouldn’t leave. He was laughing at me. He would never leave. I wanted to be free.
I want to be free of him. He won’t go away. He won’t leave me alone
“Do you see him here now?” The doctor leaned forward, interested. His eyes were warm. In that moment, I could tell I had been wrong about him. He truly cared about me. He wanted to help me.
Yes, he haunts me every time I close my eyes. I can’t escape him. He wanted to make me his forever…and he succeeded.
“No, Layla, Mr. McDermott did not succeed. No one can owe a person, no matter what he may have told you. You are your own person with your own thoughts and feelings. Did you see him while you were sleeping before?”
No, but I can’t stop thinking about him now. I hadn’t even known I had fallen asleep until I looked at the clock
He wrote something down in his notebook. His eyes were focused, as if he didn’t want to leave out a single word of whatever it was he was writing. I was curious what he was writing down, but he probably wouldn’t have let me see it anyway. Finally, he set the pen down. “Would you like to go watch some TV?”
I’m allowed to do that?
He laughed. “Yes, Layla, you aren’t a prisoner here.”
Sure feels like it
He laughed again, leading me out of the room. After observing you, I do not believe you’re a threat to anyone.”
It was the first time I’d been out of my room since being admitted last night. I was led to a rec room that apparently everyone hung out in. Three girls were parked on the yellow couch, watching an old Lifetime movie. Another girl was painting at the large round table. None of them looked at me until my stomach growled at the smell of popcorn. The three girls turned to look at me. Painter girl didn’t even react.
“Cassie, Sam, Brin, May, this is Layla. Please treat her with respect. She’s going to be staying with us for a while. Nurse Coach, I leave her in your hands.” The doctor smiled at her and nodded before leaving. It occurred to me that I hadn’t bothered to learn his name.
“Want some?” One of the girls on the couch offered me the bowl of popcorn. The girl looked nice enough. She was blonde and had nice teeth. Probably hadn’t done drugs a day in her life. Her complexion was too clear.
No thanks
She smiled without batting an eye at the fact I has just used a notebook to answer her instead of talking to her. “Okay, lemme know if you do.” She turned back to her movie just like the two other girls. I didn’t see the third girl the doc had mentioned. Maybe he spent too much time around crazy people and was going crazy himself.
Curiosity got the better of me and I watched the girl at the table. She was painting a sunset on a lake. There was a house in the picture, but it was painted in a dull, muted brown compared to the vibrant colors used for everything around it. It had to mean something.
I sat across from her and started scribbling absentmindedly on a fresh page of my notebook. When I finally tore my attention away from the girl, I realized what I was drawing. A piece of popcorn.
“This usually helps me.” I looked up. It was the girl who had offered me the bowl of popcorn. She had set a piece of popcorn in front of my notebook. “Seeing it can help you draw it better, at least in my case.” She sat in the chair next to me after getting a piece of paper of her own and a pencil out of the drawer. “So, Layla, right? Doctor Trey dropped you off here. What did you do to score a session with him? I’m Cassie, by the way.”
Bad shit, Cassie
Cassie nodded. “I understand. Are you here long term or just on hold?”
Another 61 hours and fifteen minutes
“Wow. That bad, huh?”
The waiting is the worst
“Yeah, watching the same movie ten times can get pretty boring. But what else is there to do?” She shrugged. “But it’s not so bad. Life is what you make it, they say.”
So, nothing but shit?
She laughed. “It can be. But once I introduce you to the crew, you can make it fun.”
The crew?
Cassie led me over to the couch. “This is May and Sam. The one sitting on the floor is Brin.”
Brin waved at me from her seat on the floor. No wonder I didn’t see her before. Aside from being hidden by the couch, the girl couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds.
May offered me a timid smile. Sam barely acknowledged my existence. Cassie chuckled. “Don’t mind Sam. She takes a while to warm up to people. She’s been here the longest so, as you can imagine, she doesn’t really like getting close to others. Brin is the youngest. She’s sixteen.”
Hi
“A Not-talker, huh?” Sam asked. “What does Trey think of that? He give you the fourth degree yet?”
I shook my head. He’s not that bad. Just a little too personal
“Girl has a sense of humor. Good.” Sam’s ruby red lips curved into a smile. “What’d ya do, Silent?”
Instead of writing it again, I pointed to the answer I’d given Cassie. Sam laughed. “Okay, then. Bad shit. I can understand that. The world is full of bad shit.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes. She had no idea. What did you do?
“Not up for discussion.” She shrugged. “But if you ask me, maybe I’ll consider telling you.”
I frowned. Cassie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. If you want, I can tell you later.” She winked at Sam. Sam groaned.
I sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall above the TV. Sixty hours and fifty-five minutes to go.