Rooms of Depression

Rooms of Depression

  Looking around and sitting up as the dim lights flickered above, she wondered how she got here. The floor was cold against her skin. It came easily through the thin gown they made her wear. She concentrated hard on her past. Visions flashed inside her head. The knife, the screaming throughout the empty hallway of the school, the blood. Oh God, the blood. She looked down at her hands and red flashed. She gasped and closed her eyes but as she peered at her hands once again, there was nothing there.
  The memories came and went so fast. She realized she was swaying from side to side and decided to lay across the floor with the coldness crawling up and down her spine. In a way it felt good. It made her forget what had happened for a moment. But, of course, it came back. How could she have been so stupid? But then the anger came back. She gritted her teeth trying to control it but her mind kept replaying that night. His voice had cut so deep and he didn’t even know it. But now he never will.
  Then the words began to flow through her as if they knew it would upset her, keeping her in this death trap forever.
  “Who do you think you are?” The voice rang in her ears.
She remembered the conversation like it was yesterday instead of three months ago.
  “I thought you really cared about me! I thought for once someone cared about what happens to me…” The sadness surged through her and for a moment her eyelids began to ache from how tight she was clenching them.
  “That was a big mistake. How could anyone care about you? You’re a psycho.”
  “How could you say that?” Now the anger was coming back. She could still hear the way her hand sounded coming in contact with his face. His eyes gleamed red.
  “You little…” They had fought. He was much stronger than her and in a matter of seconds she was pinned against the wall. A wrinkle of hatred had formed on his forehead.
  “I’m going to make you wish you had never done that…”
  Her eyes snapped open. She had to stop thinking about it. If she didn’t, she might as well commit suicide. It would be better than staying in this place until she was ninety. And then the thought of suicide brought a smile to her lips. She dreamed of how wonderful it would be to end all of this. To fly through the sky and feel what it was like to not have a care. It wouldn’t take long. If they would just give her more than this room of nothingness then suicide might be a possibility.
  Then she thought of all the things she came across when they take her to her daily shrink session with that idiotic doctor. There were pens and multiple objects where if she concentrated, she could make them live up to the standards of the job. But now the darkness of the outside world surrounded her as it streamed through the tiny window high up on the wall. It was night and oh how she used to love the night. She would sit outside in the dark, writing poems of depression and love. She could almost feel the gentle breeze in the dark, swirling her hair around in mystical shapes.
  Laying there in the small room, feeling the coolness of the tiles beneath her, she closed her eyes and began to rest. Even though her faith in God was slim right now, she prayed. She prayed for getting out of this place. She prayed to see the ones she loved again. And most of all she prayed to dream. She wished to dream of faraway places to slip off to as she slept, to dance on a lake of ice, to ride on the back of lion through an open meadow of dandelions and daises. She wanted to swim to the deepest depths of the ocean. Maybe fall in love once more. As she thought of these marvelous places that only existed in the backs of children’s deepest dreams, sleep flooded into her.
  But of course, these dreams did not come.
  Instead her mind filled with the night she had been thinking of for what seemed like an eternity. She tossed and turned on the floor trying to throw the thoughts away. Her mind flashed with the horrible scenes.
  “Let me go!” She struggled to be released from his hurtful grasp. A wicked grin had formed on his face. Without even thinking, she had kicked him hard and ran down the hall as he crouched over in pain. This time she shot up in her sleep crying “No, no, no!” but even as she stared at the blank wall in front of her, fully awake and dripping with sweat, the visions danced in her mind. She saw the cafeteria sign ahead. She heard the squeak of her tennis shoes as she slid through the double doors and into the kitchen like gunfire in a battlefield.
  “Get back here!” he had screamed getting up and racing after her. “No, no, no…” she began shaking her head not wanting to replay what had happened. But the scenes kept coming.
  She had ducked behind one of the large linoleum refrigerators that were set up in the back of the kitchen. She heard footsteps. “Come on, Massy. You know you can’t hide forever.” His voice was calm but cut through the tense air like a snake lunging at a mouse. Suddenly, she saw a flash of metal. She glanced around the fridge and saw a large knife sitting on the edge of the counter urging her to come and play. It was half way between her and him but she dared to take the chance. She jumped up, running full speed to the counter and grabbing the knife just as he spotted her.
  “Aw, come on girl. You would never have the guts to do anything with that.” She could still feel the plastic handle stuck inside her sweaty palms. The knife quivered. Her heart pounded as blood had rushed to her head. She had never meant to hurt him. She just wanted to be safe. Remembering the past brought tears to her eyes. They ran down her delicate cheek but she didn’t even notice. She was used to it by now. She remembered the struggle, the cry of pain, the look on his face. She remembered the tears falling as she ran through the doors out into the bright lights of the football game screaming and babbling as her friend came running up to her.
  “Massy, there you are! What’s wrong? What’s on your hands…..oh my God…where’s Ricky?” She could remember the screaming and crying. What she had hated the most were the cops with all their ignorant questions. She had stabbed the guy. She knew that. She didn’t want to repeat everything over and over again. As everything came back to her in a heap of disturbed memories, she silently fainted back to sleep.
  The next day was as normal as any. She walked mindlessly back and forth in her room of insanity, went to the shrink and talked about what she hated to remember, ate disgusting food that looked like it could serve as pig feed, and of course, slowly went crazy. But as she walked back into her room from her daily session with the psychiatrist, she slipped something small, silver, and sharp out from under her gown. A smile slowly came alive on her face. “Everything’s going to be okay, Massy. It’ll all be over soon. The past will no longer have a hold on you.”