Story Three: Sleep

His hands were warm and soft against her skin. He cupped her face, tilting her chin gently up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you,” he whispered softly. His thumb traced her cheek bones and the ridge of her smile as she stood on her tip-toes and leaned in to kiss him. And just as his lips touched hers, he disappeared…

Becky awoke suddenly with tears sliding down her thin cheeks as quickly as the dream slid from her mind. The effect was the same each morning: she was left with the almost overwhelming pain of searing loss which she could not explain, not to the doctors and not to herself. She was depressed, the doctors said, and they assigned her medication. The medication stimulated her mind, exciting her, and she laughingly told the nurses that she wanted to die. They took her off that medication, after that, but there was always something else. Her parents thought she was crazy.

Crazy. That was why she had agreed to come to this deserted coffin of an institution- it seemed like only yesterday. Her parents had assured her that it wasn’t necessary, that she was welcome at home, that they loved her and wanted to be there for her though whatever she was going though- lies. Becky had seen the relief in their eyes when she told them she wanted to go away. And it was free, too- her doctor was interested in her case, he said, he wanted to include her in his research; her parents didn’t have to pay a cent, and she could stay as long as she was willing.

A win for everyone really: Becky’s parents were such nice people, and however much they loved her, they would never understand the passionate emotions which ripped mercilessly through her body, threatening to pull her apart. She remembered the terror in their eyes when she had her first “episode”- a seizure, the paramedics had initially said as they rushed her to the ER. Maybe she had developed epilepsy? Had she suffered any recent head trauma? Maybe, her parents had said. Maybe. They didn’t know.

What happened in the woods, Becky? Why did you go in there; was someone with you? Did you get lost, Becky? Did you get hurt- did someone hurt you? Why can’t you remember Becky? What are you hiding? Becky, WHAT HAPPENED? Everyone kept asking her about the woods near her house, but she didn’t remember anything special about them. Had she gotten lost there as a child? No answers, not from doctor or mother or father. Had Becky been lost? She didn’t know.

“I had a dream last night, but I don’t remember what happened.” The doctor’s disappointment was fresh in his eyes as Becky spoke, as if he had met her only yesterday and hadn’t heard the same thing a hundred times. “I was sad when I woke up- like someone had died.” Becky had never known anyone who had died, but she thought about it sometimes and she thought she knew how it would feel. Like nothing would ever be the same.

“I was in control this time, though,” She reported dutifully. “I didn’t feel hopeless this time. I didn’t feel lost.” That was all true, but it was not all; she said it because she needed to see the faint glimmer of hope that she knew would appear in the doctor’s eyes. She said it because she needed to believe that someone was holding onto her. Because when she dreamed, she didn’t feel lost- to be lost was to be misplaced, to have someone looking for you, to rescue you. When she woke from a dream, it was as if she had been abandoned, as if someone had stolen all of the color out of the world and left her alone in a cold, white room. She felt like everything was terribly wrong, out of order, missing, but she said nothing because she could not explain why.

It was Rose’s turn to take care of her today. She knew because of the day: Becky knew all of the nurses because of the day. She thought they all looked, talked, smelled, acted alike, but the days were different. Rose was a Thursday; she came in after Becky had seen the doctor.

“Why is everything white?” Becky asked Rose this every time they met, because she knew Rose didn’t mind. And she said something different each time, which was interesting. Today, Rose told Becky that they were in Heaven, like angels among the white clouds, and that things had to be white because it was the way God wanted. Becky said nothing; every time she heard an answer she said nothing. She might not have known what to believe; perhaps, she believed it all.

Rose went on about the angels as they walked down to the cafeteria and kept on about them while Becky ate, while she stood in line to get her pills, while they went back up the stairs. She was Becky’s favorite nurse, because after they arrived at Becky’s room, Rose would pretend not to notice while Becky slipped down the hall and into Nathan’s room. Becky was not stealthy by any means; Rose simply believed that they two did each other some good, and even though the other nurses didn’t like the idea of a boy and a girl closed up in that room together, Rose thought Becky should go.

Just as Rose was Becky’s favorite nurse, so was Nathan’s room her favorite in the Home. He had colored the walls once, big bright pictures that had pushed the white away; Becky had asked him why everything was white, and he didn’t know. She knew it made him angry- that was why he colored on the walls. The janitor, Mr. Smelting was mad, and the colors didn’t go away. Nathan’s mother had to pay extra that month, he had told her privately, for the damage he had done. But Nathan didn’t care, and he told Becky not to care either.

He was standing at the window when she came in; he didn’t turn to look at her as she entered, and she said nothing to him. She lay down on the floor and looked at the pictures on the wall, thinking about the dream from the night before. She wished desperately that she could force her mind to open like flood gates, so that the memories that she so badly needed could come crashing out- but she was afraid to try. The constant grief, the loneliness and heartache that followed her like a shadow were barely tolerable on her best day, and she was afraid of what it would feel like to understand.

The doctor tried to hypnotize her, sometimes. He thought she was repressing memories; he thought she was intentionally holding things back, holding them inside. He said those memories were like poison, that they were tainting her body and that she wouldn’t be able to survive and live a “normal” life if she kept them inside. His favorite time to do it was right after she had an “episode”; instead of being rushed to the ER, she was rushed to the doctor’s big white office and quickly put under. She couldn’t remember anything that happened when she went into her trance, but she didn’t mind doing it because she couldn’t feel anything while she was in a hypnotic state: there was no pain there.

“It’s not like I have a choice here, you know.” His voice was bitter and broken, and even though she was angry, she pulled herself near to him, doing her best to comfort him. They laid on the grass together for a long, long time, just holding each other in silence. The sky was gloomy and dark- she could see it faintly through the tops of the trees- when he kissed her forehead softly. “I’ll try… I’ll come back for you. I will.” She could hear in his voice what he couldn’t say with words: he was afraid. “I have to go home now,” he whispered; she tightened her hold, willing him not to go. “Don’t come for a few days, okay? I’ll be there at least three days, mom said. So wait awhile. A week, maybe. And then I’ll come back for you.” She wanted to be strong, to be brave for him, but she couldn’t anymore: she started to cry…

The sobs piercing the air wretched her into full consciousness; she didn’t have time to notice that she must have dozed off before her body, her mind, her soul were overwhelmed. She was convulsing violently on the floor, her head crashing dangerously against the hard floor. Her throat was tight: she was choking on nothing, choking on the pain, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

Nathan’s arms were around her in a second, cradling her head. He didn’t call for help; he knew what would happen when the nurses came, knew that Becky hated it, and he tried to protect her. “I’m here,” he whispered softly, gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated the words again and again and she hated that she couldn’t stop for him, but she had lost all control. A violent shriek pierced the quiet of the hospital- it came from her mouth, she thought, but couldn’t be sure. The door to the room opened, Rose and Marcy and the Doctor rushing in, other patients crowding the door with sad half-interest. When the General had lived here, he had stormed in among them, shouting instructions for battle formations that the nurses never followed. But he didn’t live there anymore; he had escaped, he had gone to where they couldn’t hurt him.

There was a sharp prick in Becky’s arm; a nurse was injecting her with something; Becky had had it before. It had a paralyzing effect on her, this new medicine. When they gave it to her, her entire body went numb and she couldn’t move; she would spend the rest of the day being pushed around in a wheelchair. If she had been able to control her body at all, Becky would have resisted; she hated taking this medicine and she hated its numbing effect. She hated not being able to feel her own body, and she hated that she could still feel the pain.

“Oh God… Oh my God…” Becky’s words were slurred and slow from the medicine. “Help me…. Please, help me….”

The nurses were pulling her into a chair; there were more nurses in the hall, pushing the other residents gently back to their rooms. And Nathan was still there with her, right beside her head, ignoring Marcy’s instructions to leave, to go somewhere, anywhere but that room. Becky pushed past the pain, through the numbness, and thrust her hand to him; he took it in an instant and gave a squeeze that she could barely feel.

“I’m here, I won’t leave you,” he whispered, reminding her. The doctor nodded to the nurses, and together they made a slow progress down to the doctor’s office.

Becky found it hard to focus; it happened this way every time, but now it was especially strong. She had to fight to stay conscious, to stay coherent; she had to fight to keep from sinking into despair. Nathan’s hand was what she focused on, what she held to even when she could no longer feel. Tears poured silently down her face as the doctor talked to her, saying words that Becky couldn’t understand. Nothing made sense, and she was hurting all over. She wanted to throw up, but the medicine wouldn’t even let her do that.

And then the doctor had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to answer. Becky didn’t know what to say. She stood on the brink of total insanity, and she wanted to let go.

She was waiting impatiently, counting the hours and the days. Time seemed to move more slowly than usual. And then it was finally time to go back, back to that secret place in the woods…

“Sleep, Becky, it’s okay, I’ll be here.” She was in her room, and Nathan was there. She didn’t know how she had gotten there. She didn’t know what day it was anymore, and she couldn’t move. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t speak, so she fell back into herself.

She was running through the woods, the clearing ahead, and a lone person sitting there on the log they had always shared. She slowed to a walk, fresh tears forming in her eyes. He had seen her coming, he had stood up- no, not him. His brother, and she couldn’t believe she made that mistake, even though they looked so much alike. His mouth was moving, but it was like the volume in her ears had been turned down; she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t hear the birds or the wind through the trees. She couldn’t breathe. She hugged herself tightly. The sobs cascaded out of her mouth and she couldn’t hear them; her head was banging the forest floor softly and uselessly. She stared as his lips soundlessly whispered “I’m so sorry,” and she fell apart. She lost herself, lost everything, she didn’t understand. She didn’t want to accept it and she didn’t have a choice. He had abandoned her, he was gone forever, the doctors couldn’t save him like he said. The pain of searing loss swept over her body like a fresh breeze…

Becky woke up, she understood, she remembered. Becky cried.