Thursday, June 27, 2013

short novel "I see white clouds" part 5



I was told that during my drifting I go about my day, but I have a glassy look in my eyes. Almost like a walking zombie. I don’t remember much about the days I spend that way. After my last session I believe I was about three days in that state. What brought me back  

was the incident with Lolita. It happened during family visitation day. The facility hosted a lunch for the families of the admitted; this occurred a few times a year. What I enjoyed most about it was that everything was immaculate. The walls were washed down, the floors waxed, and the couches and chairs professionally cleaned. All of the blinds where opened, allowing the brightness of the sun to shine through. There was music, fresh flowers, and great food. A huge “welcome family” sign hung outside the building. Balloon bouquets adorned both sides of the entry door.

 Everyone was in high spirits, but for Tom, especially, this was a very important day. This was the only day he saw his mother, she came to visit him once a year. She married a millionaire from Europe and lived the high life. She spent her days traveling, hosting
parties and social events. She insisted everyone called her Madam Camille. I knew this because there was a bulletin board on the hallway where the staff clipped postcards from relatives. Hers were the most elaborate with pictures of exotic places like Fiji and always signed “Madam Camille”. Poor Tom, he’d stand in front of it for hours staring at the postcards. I could not bear to look at him as he sat next to her and she completely ignored him. On that only day that she would come to visit; not only would she come late and leave early, but while she was there she spent her entire time trying to impress the families and staff with her travels and her money. It was the saddest thing to watch. I heard one of the staff members say that Madam Camille put Tom in a USA institution because she was too ashamed to have him put in one in Europe.

Precisely on that day, I was awakened out of my drift by a "red code" alarm. When I became present, I was sitting on a chair in my bedroom. I could hear people running down the hall screaming. I opened the door; the security guards were heading towards the game room. I could hear a big commotion; one of the patients was yelling “it’s Lolita, its Lolita. My stomach immediately went into knots. “What happened to her, is she in trouble or hurt? My mind was racing, I had to find her, help her! I walked out into the hallway and looked down the hall; all I could see was Lolita rolling around on the floor with what appeared to be a stuffed animal of some sort. There were people all around trying to take it away from her. I didn’t understand what was happening. As I got closer I panicked, that was no stuffed animal she was attacking, that was Madam Camille wearing a “squirrel” skin coat!!!!  Lolita was trying to take it off of her. I know I should not be laughing but I couldn’t help myself; the laughter was coming from my belly and I could not stop. When the security guards heard me laughing so hard they started laughing too. To see Madam Camille rolling on the floor with her hair completely in shambles, in a tug of war with Lolita over her coat, was nothing short of hilarious!!!

Session 5

After spending the first ten minutes of my session talking and laughing about Lolita’s incident, we got right back to business. She started by telling me how proud she was that I had managed to talk about the storm. She explained that my drifting is my way of not feeling emotions nor dealing with pain. I felt hopeful when she said that the episodes will become far in between and eventually disappear the more I deal with what has caused me pain. Then she asked “are you ready to continue?” NO!!! I will never be ready!!! As much as I felt like telling her that, I was tired of living this way. I wanted freedom, I began to talk. “I was badly hurt, so much so that I thought I might bleed to death. I had cuts on my legs, bruises on my arms, the injury on my side, especially was deep enough to bleed nonstop for days. After the storm I spent days trying to find my way home. When I finally arrived, there was nothing but debris. My entire neighborhood had disappeared. I looked through the ruble trying to find something to salvage, but there was nothing. I made my way back to the field, although it was leveled by the storm and no wheat was left, it was all I had, it was all I knew.” I surprised myself, not once did I feel the need to drift during this session, something strange was happening. I feel as if I could talk for hours, I wanted to talk for hours and I did.

She cancelled all of her appointments for that day and allowed me to talk and talk and talk. I told her how when I realized that I was alone and that no one was going to help me heal my wounds, protect me, or care for me, I decided to take care of myself the best way I could. I went back to the field, but this time it wasn’t to look at the white clouds, I was determined to build a fort. From that day on, I never looked up at the sky again. I spent my days, months, years, looking for logs, nails, and rocks. My fort was stronger and taller every day; no storm will ever destroy me again. I felt strong, powerful and in control; but deep inside I was terrified. Every day I thought it was going to be the day that another storm would come. I lived anticipating, waiting, in expectancy, in agony. Every passing wind or drop of rain would send me running to my fort. It was a never ending fight against the storm. After many years, I noticed that my wounds were not healing, on the contrary, they had become infected and the infection was spreading throughout my entire body. I could not keep up the fort any longer; I didn't have the strength.

End session

By the time I finished that days session it was 7:00 pm; I talked for hours and she listened.  I walked over to the dinner hall and sat by Lolita and Tom at the table.  Tom was apologizing to Lolita for his mom's
coat; Lolita still looked angry.  I asked what ended up happening with the coat, Tom told me Lolita threw it into the fireplace.  I let out a scream accompanied with laughter, Lolita and Tom looked at me and we all started to laugh uncontrollably.   We laughed and laughed until tears were rolling down our faces and our sides hurt.  I had never seen those two as much as smile; it was a good day.  

By 9:00 pm I wanted to go to bed, I left exhausted.  Today's session drained every ounce of strength out of me; but I felt lighter.  I read my journal for a few minutes and immediately fell into a deep peaceful sleep.  Until I was awoken by a scratching sound, it sounded like someone was running their nails down my door.  It startled me, I sat up on my bed to listen closely.  A small child was crying, I could hear it much clearer now.  I felt as if the voice was coming from the small opening at the bottom of the door.  As if someone was laying on the floor trying to be heard from underneath.  The child's voice was weak but desperate, finally I could make out what it was saying. "Priscilla, help me."  I began to see blood starting to spill through the door again but this time, I wasn't afraid.


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