Behind The Heavy Metal Door

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The heavy metal door closed behind Ann Horn as she was ushered along by an orderly and a male nurse. The echo of the door’s closing vibrated in her head, worsening a migraine which came by way of vomiting up a bottles worth of sleeping pills. She could barely keep her eyes open; the harsh light of the ward gave her the feeling that her headache had become a laser beam shooting through her skull.

The antiseptic smell of cleaning solution permeated the air reminding everybody around, both patient and doctor alike, that as long as they were in there, they were now severed from the outside world as if they were even for a short time, ghosts in a timeless mission. Ann started to laugh a defeated laugh, at the thought of a portcullis slamming down in front of the metal door.

“We’re in a lunatic kingdom,” she mumbled to herself, still in a state of delirium. They passed an old black man standing in the middle hallway holding up his beltless pants with one hand and stroking the light while demanding everyone in sight accept him as being the one true god.

“Great we now have four ‘Gods’ on this floor” the male nurse joked to the orderly. “One of the others was picked up last night after he was found on 23rd street, tearing pages out of a Bible and eating them. Poor bastard just kept shouting that he was eating the flesh of his son.” Both laughed as an act of routine.

They reached a waiting a room where Ann collapsed onto a plastic chair placed in front of a desk. Off to the right an empty chair was placed for any doctor willing to conduct the questioning. “Wait here, the doctor will be here in a few minutes” the orderly told Ann Horn flatly. The two men walked out of the room and disappeared around the corner.

Now alone, Ann realized her body continued to shake uncontrollably as her breath came in gasps with light headed day dreams. Images raced through her mind violently of falling sleeping spills and thick rope with waiting of nooses. For just a moment each thought gave her the comfort of a prisoner who just achieved escape from the penitentiary of the body and disappeared over the horizon. Around every corner was the promise of the final box car pulling out of the station just in time for her to jump on and reach her final destination. But the police and her doctors somehow always knew when to unravel their flypaper to catch her in mid-stride. Every time they bring her back, they seem to tighten the screws a little more to lock her in the prison of each morning. Each attempt at escape usually ended with her hanging from the wall, with the spot lights and machine guns pointed at her back. Her decisions were always the same, to haul herself across the wall and dare the guards to shoot her from behind or fall into the court yard and go to work the following morning as if nothing ever happened. Ann never wore the face of indifference though, for any boyfriend or occasional lover. They all wound up in the oncoming storm of tears and resentment towards their love and that they dared to stick around for too long. But she could never be alone for too long before she made another run for the wall. She always took the “coward’s way out” in the end and dropped into the court yard. It were these fantasies that made her to want to escape even more. The antiseptic reek of cleaning fluid was heavy in the air acting as a reminder that she failed once again.

.

There was a loud crash from somewhere near, coupled with the terrified screams of an unseen woman. Ann got up slowly to look out the door. She braced herself against the wall as she walked towards the hallway as her legs were still shaking and her balance had been severed. Her eyes were still partly closed as her headache had only gotten worse. Even in her haze she had a need to watch the commotion but saw nothing. All the noise came from behind a closed door three rooms down. Before long the door opened and two nurses wheeled out a pretty, pale skinned girl with long blond hair which covered her face. The girl was strapped down to a hospital bed not uttering a word but just stared off into the distance far out of the reach of the wards. She had been drugged, that was clear as she was too incapacitated to walk, lying silent and still. The girl’s blue gown ended at her ankles and shoeless feet. For a moment Ann wondered what the girl’s story was but couldn’t focus enough to maintain her curiosity. The feeling of being sick had started rising from somewhere deep below and was now stuck in her throat. She moved back to her seat where she collapsed. Her body became slack except for her jaw which was clinched from the pain of feeling cranium about to hatch an unknown and terrifying bird. Though she realized her body was no longer shaking as before, save for her legs, only her left arm trembled a bit. All the noises around her came in waves which seemed to be getting further and further away until they were nothing more than echoes. The light from the room invaded her safe place which she had grown accustomed to fleeing into, preventing any chance of escape from the wards. She strained to look up and peered around the room as if she was hunting for something specific but the room was all but empty except for two chairs and the desk which she sat in front of.

Any suicide case would be safe from themselves here, no wires to hang themselves or sharp edges on the desk. The door sat wide open with passing nurses looking in as they moved like fish in a bowl. The room was awash in white, painfully white which emphasized the lifelessness of the space that came as a reminder of how separated the outside world truly was from the universe behind the heavy metal door. It was in Ann’s mind, a death which was worse than any natural passing. Here, there were no mornings, afternoons or nights. The clocks only kept track of med time, dinner time and bed time. Everything in between was empty time, where one could wander the hallways or lose themselves in their rooms. Even the years were prohibited from passing through the heavy metal door. All of those who were awake were themselves, ghosts of those who had never truly died at all but only visiting the world of the forgotten. Everyone in the ward, both staff and ghost alike, seemed to move or scream or look around offices and padded rooms as if there was no outside world at all.

Then there were the lucky ones, those who claimed the few windows in the place as their own, keeping their connection to the outside world alive. There was not a man or woman among this lot who cared if they were let back out on to the street or kept locked up. It all seemed the same somehow. They would just stare outside as the passers-by rushed as if they were late and would always be late no matter what time appeared on the clocks or watches. But for the lucky ones looking down on the bleached sidewalks of the Upper East Side, returning to the outside world meant collecting soda cans which were used to fill garbage bags until they hit the deposit machines. The money from the cans and bottles went towards one dollar slices of pizza or the cheapest hit of whatever was available. Still others saw the wards as a way out of sleeping under the bridges of Hell’s Kitchen where one was always prepared to defend themselves against attacking rats the size of kittens, some much bigger. For all of them though, the world on the other side of the bars was a terrifying wilderness where they, themselves were the hunted. The hunters, who never seemed far behind the game, were the demons born of headlights from the oncoming cars, street lights from Hudson River Park or the roar of the subway cars.

It was all about passing the time between taking meds and being sent to their rooms. Some took to leaning their time away along the walls next to the windows. While others burned their time away screaming at invisible assailants. But the luckiest ones of all weren’t those who stood behind the barred windows looking down on the city, but those who were passed out in their beds unware of any windows or outside world or even the wards themselves. These vegetables would forever run through the empty streets of drugged sleep, away from the demons, the nurses, the police and the pimps. The yearless avenues were now theirs alone as much as any silent suffering had been since the streets and jail cells rose up to greet them.

Just outside the door, a tall Jewish kid with a yarmulke stood looking blankly down the hall, “the machine in my head doesn’t work, nothing works. The machine in my head doesn’t work, nothing works. I’ve been here for seventy years and nothing works. The machine in my head doesn’t work, nothing works…” A young nurse approached the young man, asking if he knew what was the matter. The kid just stared off into a void speaking a little louder. “The machine in my head doesn’t work, I’ve been here for seventy years. Nothing works. The machine in my head doesn’t work. Nothing works.”

Ann’s eyes fell closed again. For the first time since the fateful hour when she tried to swallow all of her meds at the same time, she realized the dull pain in her stomach. It was not so unlike the early signs of a toothache. It seemed to somehow merge with her migraine which was starting to return to a new peak. The kid’s endless rambling reached deep into the beating behind her eyes as her hands tightened into two fists and her nails dug deep into her palms. The voice of a second nurse urged the kid to calm down or he would have to be put back into “the quiet room.” Without having to look up Ann could hear all three walk down the hall while the kid’s voice began to become more distant.

The door to the room closed lightly. Ann looked up with some surprise. He was a short Indian born to well-mannered parents, with olive skin and a salt-and-pepper beard which failed to hide the fact that he was still young. Despite showing an understanding smile, his face lacked all warmth somehow. It was as if the smile was issued by management along with the name tag over his left coat pocket. Even his eyes had an institutional deadness to them. He slowly sat in the chair next to the desk with a clipboard in hand. The doctor leaned forward as the smile vanished from his face. He began to speak with a heavy accent and the reassuring tone of a grandmother.

“You are a lucky woman to be alive Ms. Horn. I know it doesn’t feel that way at the moment having just come here from the emergency room and all. You must be exhausted since it is nearly four in the morning. But please understand this is all necessary to find out what is going on with you. Another hour could have meant your life. Yes I know that was your goal, best laid plan if you will, but we will see what we can do for you. Maybe make you feel at least, able to cope with whatever you are going through. Medicine has come a long way over the years you understand? I see in your records the last time you were in a hospital the doctor had you on some heavy medication. Yes those type of pills do make you walk around like a zombie. I will do my best to keep you off that drug. Says here you have stopped taking them long ago. Our protocol is far more precise I sure you. ”

The doctor read Ann’s records slowly line by line to himself, not looking at Ann as if he expected her to crack and confess to a murder case which had never been solved. Ann just looked down at the desk without uttering a word. It was a routine she perfected in evading any attempt by those who she felt would keep her from reaching her final solution. She had taken to ignoring most of the phone calls she would receive in during the evening hours. She would lift up the receiver then hung up. On the other end of the receiver were friends she had once loved and spent the holidays with or volunteered with at a local animal hospice in the middle of a Long Island suburb, or even babysat for when she was much younger. But now they were all enemies whom she kept on the other side of the gate.

“How dare they try in invade my space? Why don’t they leave me alone?” But there was never anyone around to answer. Her guilt had long become a loyal friend never leaving her side. When all her boyfriends had walked out the door, or during the loss of an elder cat, the guilt was always was there, never far behind. It was as common to her as it was to every good Catholic. In her head was a record which played the voices of all her regrets and bitter defeat. Most of the time it was her father who had long sunk to alcohol’s cruelest ocean before giving way to cancer. Ann had been sure she could have found a way to save him but was never quite sure how. All she knew was she had to be punished like any other good Catholic. Despite this, she never saw herself as a martyr or some remote idol but just a woman in torment looking to pay the bills on a home she could ill afford and to maintain a life that was never truly hers to begin with. When the fits ebbed, she would just grab the remote control and watched tv until the morning’s light greeted her. Her elder cat would jump onto her bed and settled down. “Oh Randy, you and I will fall apart together”, she gave out a halfhearted laugh then fell asleep.

The doctor looked up from the papers slowly as if he were conniving some dramatic affect. “Says here you were sent to Pilgrim when you were twenty one. That was your first attempt. Nineteen eight five you cut your wrists with a box cutter. Do you have anything to say Ms. Horn?”

Ann continued you sit staring at the desk in silence. The doctor looked back down at the paper then continued.

“It says here your father died and something about a relationship breaking up, both in 85.”

This time he didn’t look up but just waited for a reply but none came.

“Can you tell me the reason for the break up Ms. Horn?”

“Your father, it says, died of cancer connected to his drinking. Does any of this sound familiar to you?”

How long could she remain silent before she finally broke from being locked up for the mandatory seventy three hours? It was no secret that she was in a soccer/football match with the doctor. One with no time clock. Ann could play defense for minutes, hours, days or even weeks but sooner or later they were going to score on her and get the information they were looking for. Only a novice would believe otherwise.

The spiraling depression which led her to swallowing herself years ago and the pills that night came flooding back in. She knew there was no way she could last in her private room where there were no doctor’s at all; so she let out in a voice just of the sound of a whimper, “yes.” She grew silent once more despite knowing that there was no use trying to wait all of them out, it was all a joke she was going to play on herself. She was there on a suicide watch and the outside world would have to wait longer for her return, not really missing her at all. She was, after all not a girl foolish enough to believe that all she had to do was hold her breath and they would let her out or pray to a heaven that was absent of any score keeper.

The doctor didn’t look up but waited for a further response. When there wasn’t one he continued.

“According to your records Ms. Horn you were unresponsive during your other visits to the hospital.” “This is not acceptable of course. You are here, as you know, because you have a serious problem that we need to resolve. We can play the waiting game all you want but you will only prolong your time with us.”

This time the fatherly tone disappeared from the doctor’s voice seeing he was not getting anywhere playing the good cop. He began to speak with a hardened tone which came as a warning. Ann knew very well the routine of these interrogations. They all started off playing the same concerned parent role but wound up speaking with the same cold voice of the institutions. But despite all she knew, the dam began to break and the waters began to leak through the growing cracks.

“What do you want me to say? We both know you can only hold me for a few days then I’m no longer your concern! You don’t care unless I’m locked up here so stop this concerned father bullshit!”

The doctor spoke again without looking up from his clip board,

“Tell me about the break up with your boyfriend.”

Now exhausted Ann knew there was no use fighting any further, “He lied to me ok? He began buying things we couldn’t afford behind my back like this go cart which he tried to hide at his friend’s house! He just stopped telling me things until we did nothing but fight! I slept with his best friend a few times then that was it! We broke up!”

Each word began to come between sobs. “I’m a bad person ok. I’m always hurting someone. I just want to die - but no, I just go on living.”

She cried as her head just hung down as if it was that of a marionette whose strings had been cut as the words she tried to speak only disappeared.

“Well Ms. Horn we will talk later when you can speak and you can get a hold of yourself. Right now we will get nowhere. A nurse will be here soon to take you to a room where you will be observed around the clock. Perhaps then you’ll calm down so we can dig much deeper and find out the best way to help you. Maybe get you re-tethered if you will. You will be here for a little while so we have time to get to the bottom of things.”

“You think they will be able to fix me? They tried this same shit at South Oaks and Pilgrim. I’ve taken their drugs and went to their therapy and it’s a safer bet to depend on blind pigs finding truffles under the driest rock than finding the cure for me. ” She thought. She raised the gown sleeve of her right arm, grimaced at its whiteness and visible veins, then put the sleeve back down.

The doctor stood up and walked out of the room. Ann just sat there crying and shaking as each tear dropped on her flowered night gown. Somewhere in the miasma of noise from the wards a kind voice was barely able to cut through, “Let me take you to your room dear. You can talk to the doctor more tomorrow.” When she looked up Ann saw that the nurse was looking down on her with huge black eyes with the earnestness of a concerned mother. The nurse’s dark skin was a deep contrast to the unbearable whiteness that had been beating on her since she arrived.

Ann wiped her eyes on the back of her gown sleeve while the nurse grabbed her other arm to help her up. The two walked down the hallway past bared windows. Through the blur of her tears, Ann could only see the backs of the patients who did nothing but stand in front of these windows and stare down on the world all day and yet seemed to see nothing at all. The bright blue of late morning, formed a glow around them, giving them the appearance of holy idols.

“Maybe one of ‘em is my guardian angel and will save me from all this.” Ann thought for a brief second but the feeling of hope quickly turned to bitterness. “How typical even my guardian angel has turned his back on me.”

They passed the Jewish kid who now sat in a padded room behind a locked door. The young man just stared blankly. One of three “Gods” of the ward’s floor was being escorted to his room screaming scripture at the top of his voice “and you will know my name is the Lord!”

“Come on your holiness” one of two orderlies laughed while dragging the thin and frail patient who had decided not to stand on his own but whose feet were now dragging along the floor.

The nurse guided Ann through a maze of corridors, passing rooms with doors opened or closed. Some were vacant while others were occupied by those sleeping the sleep of the forgotten. In one room an older man slept mercifully unware of his surroundings. The nurse poked Ann, who had stopped crying and was able to gather her defenses once again.

“Those are one of the lucky ones” the nurse joked. “I wish I could dream myself out of this place” her voice trailed off. “But still, at least we don’t have to deal with the winter here. It seems to get too damn cold in February these days and the summer forget it. It is brutal out there. I can’t see how anyone could stand it”.

“Yea but you miss the fall and spring when everything comes alive.”

“That is strange coming from a girl like you. Trying to kill yourself and not wanting any part of this world.”

“I don’t want any part of living in this body” Ann corrected her “It’s so fucking old and ugly. Besides I can still recognize the beauty of the passing seasons which is one reason I’d never live in the city. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I’m completely crazy.”

“Please girl you are what? Thirty four and still pretty. A little pale, yes, and some gray in your head but not old. Wait till you find out what real age is about. And we don’t use the term crazy around here dear, some of the guys don’t like it. ”

There was no answer. For Ann had long decided to settle the debt of drudgery of being sentenced to that body. A few rooms down a woman moved from spot to spot mumbling something about being tracked by the CIA. They continued down, past the day room where bodies were gathered around a television set watching a soap opera through static.

“I wonder if it even matters if there was no picture on the screen at all or if they were forced to watch some stupid cartoon,” Ann thought as she mumbled each word separately as if one had no real connection to the other.

“What was that dear?” the nurse asked.

“Nothing just thinking something to myself.”

As they moved towards the last room on the left, a short heavy woman walked out from an open door just to the right. The woman was older and toothless with jagged scars across her face, long brown hair fell across her eyes. The blue gown which she wore covered her legs to the knees and did nothing to hide the thick black hair which covered her legs and formed mats down to her ankles.

The woman looked up to Ann, “you got a quarter lady?”

“No I have nothing on me.”

The woman looked down with disappointment, “then fuck you,” then walked away.

The nurse stared at Ann with embarrassment but with no sign of surprise in her voice. “I’m so sorry. That’s Lucy. She does that everyone here, even the staff. She got that habit of asking for money at Willow Brook and some of the guys gave it to her.”

When they finally reached the windowless room Ann saw that it was all but empty. There were two beds placed along either side, against the walls one across from each other. Both had thin blankets and sheets and heavily worn pillows. On the bed closest to the door there were some books and a CD walkmen with a few stray disks.

“Your bed is the one on the right dear, this one belongs to Janet. A very nice woman but can be a bit of a bully when she has her fits. She is hardly ever in here, she spends most of her time in the day room. You must have seen her, she was watching TV when we passed.”

Ann could not recall anyone who she saw in that day room. They all seemed to be faint images haunting the place. But she was too tired to argue and so wandered over to her bed and laid down. “Someone will be right in dear to speak to you”. Ann didn’t hear the nurse’s parting words. Though she wasn’t asleep her mind was a million miles away, in the world beyond the pain and the wards and her family whom she felt regretted her being born in the first place. She was long convinced that they had hoped for a second son, but got her instead. The joke, Ann believed, was on both her family and her. It had long explained why her brother had been the golden child. It was her father though that she felt closest to. He would come home drunk so often, she would yell at him. By morning, the old man remembered nothing.

Her body was too tense to fall asleep despite the increasing gravity of being awake. She found herself listening all the noise from outside her room. Across the hall a young woman was crying that her family wished she was a boy and didn’t care about her. The voice continued to cry out about having to put herself to bed when she was just five years old, about coming into the living room to remind her parents to come in and check on her. Another voice, this of a young man, could be heard bellowing how no one loved him and he wished everyone would stop bullshitting him. Somewhere down the hall she could hear heavy sobbing but couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. It sounded more like a child’s cry which came from the depths of a thousand years of indignities. Only those who knew true defeat could let out a cry like that for there was no greater enemy then the coming of morning. But the cry only came through in a strange static

It was then that Ann realized, with great shock that all the noises she was hearing were coming from inside her head and not the hallway at all. It was if a radio with a strange reception was on high volume. With the realization of the source of the noise, came sudden silence. She sat up for a moment to listen for any sounds from the halls but she could only hear the squeaking wheels of the orderly’s cart followed by the clanging of the steam pipes which came as a precursor to the loud hiss of wet heat from the radiators. There was not even a hint or rumor of the television in the day room. Ann thought it strange that the heat was on since it was late March. The last thing she remembered coming in and out of the ambulance was the slow rhythmic sound of water droplets falling from window sills and landings onto the metal railing. She could hear water flowing from her front door stoop and the stairs. The air was getting warm but there was still a hint of a chill in it. She lay back down and stared at the dropped ceiling. There were was yellowed stained above her which reached all the way to the room’s overhead light.

Before she could lose herself on meaning of the stain another nurse came in while being accompanied by the wheels of a cart. “Ms. Horn please sit up I must go over a few things with you. This a routine that we have to do with all our patients.”

Ann sat up part of the way resting on her elbow. A heavily built nurse who seemed unnaturally pale stood over Ann. Ann guessed that the woman’s colorless complexion must have been the result of spending so many hours in the buzzing neon light, as if she had evolved from some strange creature who could only survive in the environment of the wards. Her hair was a light shade of blond and pulled back in a tight bun. The nurse held two cups, one in each hand. Under her right arm was a blue gown sealed in plastic, along with slippers.

The nurse looked down with two blue disapproving eyes. “As I’m sure you’ve been told, Ms. Horn, you’re on twenty four hour suicide watch while you’re here. That means that you must be supervised at all times. When there are no nurses around to look in on you, you must be in the day room. If you go to the bathroom there must be someone there to supervise you. If you have a fit or outburst we reserve the right to strap you down. A nurse will speak to you later about trying different medications to help you get better. I have slippers and a gown here for you to wear and since you’ve gotten no sleep I brought you something to help you relax.”

Ann sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed. Normally she would have protested being knocked out but, drugged or not, troubled sleep was coming quick and she was far too tired to fight the nurse.

Her head dropped as she looked down at her pale legs. Without looking at the nurse she reached her hand out to grab the cup with the pills. The nurse handed it to her. Ann managed to throw her head back and swallow the pills all in one motion. There was no need for the water so the nurse placed the gown on the bed beside her and left the room.

She stood up, slipped out of her own night gown and into the blue hospital issued digs. She then lay back down and stared at the yellow stain. Before long her eyes closed and she could feel herself being carried away by a tide of a million tears. The wind was carried by the sound of the defeated cry which rang loudly in her ears. Soon she was drifting out to the ocean of sleep with no shores anywhere to be seen. Somewhere in the distance a radio could be heard over the waves of all her tears, and was playing a song she didn’t recognize at all but felt strangely familiar,

“I’m just a bird on a wire,

watching each day just drift away

as all the young faced children walk by

never noticing me at all.

Baby you have flown beyond my reach.

But still I’ve stayed for that one last moment to find you

in those depths too far down for me to go

if I ever want to see the sun again.”

Instead of swimming on into any direction, Ann let herself be carried away by the waves away from a single boat that was there to save her. The reel changed and she found herself racing in her go-cart back out in Suffolk county, against a number of faceless drivers. Her happiest moments were when she was flying along at ever accelerating speeds. The faster she went the better off it made her feel as if she was outracing all the demons who haunted her for far too long.

There was the mother who wished Ann was a boy and only loved her out of obligation while drowning herself and all reminders of her dead husband in wine and depression. And her brother the prince of the family who could do no wrong. His shadow shown so thick over her, it eclipsed her name even from herself sometimes. There would be nights when she was sixteen where Ann would leave the house for days with the latest boyfriend. When she returned no one seemed to notice she was ever gone.

There was her friend with MS who loved her but for whom she felt only kindness. And all those boyfriends, every one of them who came, lied, or she lied to them and left. Even though she never owned a motorcycle herself, she loved having boyfriends who did, feeling the vibration and power between her thighs and the wind against her skin. So as she raced around the track the events of the night before were miles behind her but yet somehow still seemed to be all too present.

It was then that she realized it wasn’t the demons but her name as well as herself that she wanted to outrace and leave behind but they both always caught up to her sooner or later. In the end the greatest demons of all were those mornings she prayed would never come. For they illuminated all of her wishes and dreams which she had before the age of sixteen and have yellowed like old newspapers which will go left unread, only to litter the doorless, windowless room of everything she had hoped to forget.

Yet she still raced on as a growing rage enveloped her, the gun of this rage was always pointed inward. Ann thought herself a coward for not doing what she was sure needed to be done before the next morning came rolling in. It was this failure to escape a life which had long become a prison of her own that made her sleeping lips mouth the words, “you’re such a fuckin’ coward.”

There was no parole for this sentence which she never asked for, only the hope of escape. A far off voice broke through into the dream as if it was God’s voice, “Why did you let them knock you out with those pills?” But there was no answer. With every lap there felt no end to the speeds she could reach and for a moment the demons were nowhere to be seen. The anger broke and some light shine through, but only for a moment.

Ann kept gaining speed as the weight of gravity started pushing down on her. All the lights became a blur until she didn’t see the other drivers at all. The sound of the passing wind grew silent, the kind of silence known only to the deaf or the dead. But still she went faster and laughed a lunatic’s laugh. For she was beyond the reach of all those men who used her for her money or seemed to move themselves into her apartment or endlessly lied to her. She wondered if she had loved any of them.

There was long haired writer who was twelve years younger than her. She had fallen for him in part, due to his strange mastering of being a cynical romantic. But he also had a way of bringing her out of her body’s torment which led her to feel, for a while, much younger herself. He was wild with the lust to try new things and drag her out of her head for and let down her defenses.

But she soon grew to hate him for making her forget herself during those two and a half years when she tried her best to keep the outbursts at bay. There were times when even she was embarrassed by them and so went to therapy in order to get better. The hate only grew the last six months of that affair until she could hardly stand to see him or hear his voice. “How dare he try to save me when all I want to do is die.” Ann often surmised.

Like all the others he disappeared after hearing the news that she was sleeping around on him this time with a local cop. Oh how proud she was for having never been someone’s wife; having never been owned or claimed ownership over anyone else. She took pride in this decision, often explaining to all her friends “This is one of the few good choices I made in my life.”

Soon there were no drivers at all as the silence was replaced by the sound of waves crashing down into the waters of eternal midnight’s endless sea. As she gained speed her laughter became more jubilant for she seemed to outrace those mornings she prayed would never come. She prayed to a god she neither believed in nor if he had been real surely must have forgotten her name. She had grown too used to dwelling in those tiers too far below for any angel in heaven to reach if they ever wished to see the light again. Besides he was not allowed to pass through the heavy metal door to the ward. So it really didn’t matter now if he existed all. Even one’s name had to be left at that door before entering. For the lifers, when they were called for their meds, their names became nothing more than a word they responded to, much like a cat or a dog. But soon the laughter stopped and the morning caught up to her and as it did the turns soon grew more narrow with each rising and falling of the sun until every turn became a hairpin turn and there was no room for error.

Ann woke with a startle. As quiet as the hallway was when she had fallen asleep it was noisy with feet shuffling back and forth, along with echoing voices. The squeak of the porter’s cart which would stop every few seconds then start once more was coming closer to her room. Sitting in the bed across from her was a heavyset stranger with a short blond haircut. She was sitting back against a well-worn pillow, one leg crossed on top of the other reading a book with no print on the cover. The woman somehow sensed that she was being stared at and looked over at Ann,

“Oh hey you’re finally awake.”

“What’s going on out there? What’s the problem?”

“Its dinner time they always start at five o clock on the dot. They think that routine is what we need while we’re in here. Personally I think that if we don’t have a routine in our every day lives how the hell is it going to help us here?”

Ann smiled halfheartedly at the stranger’s last remark since it was her own strange routine that landed her in the wards to begin with. She did not answer, just sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She just stared at her feet with an expressionless face. The stranger glanced at Ann then looked back to her book.

"My name is Janet by the way."

Ann looked up again and was able to show some sense of life in her face somehow. Her eyebrows pointed up at the corners.

"Ann."

Janet sat up in her bed to sit cross-legged. She was about to ask Ann why she was there but the death in her eyes told the whole story. They were not unlike a town crier ringing his bell in the dark and otherwise empty streets of a long forgotten city. The news was always flowing out of pale and desperate lips but no one ever seemed to be around to hear it and the unseen ears that were there were always deaf.

"I know you didn't ask but..."

Before she could finish the sound of the squeaking of the orderly's cart stopped in front of their room. The strangely pale nurse soon walked into the room with a tray on her arm. She looked at Janet with a cold stare. Janet, as if following some unheard order, stood up and walked over to grab her tray. The nurse turned back to the doorway where the orderly handed her a second tray. She turned to Ann who stood up and walked across the room grabbed her tray in fashion and back to her bed. On the tray was a thin piece of chicken smothered in a thick gravy smelling like cheap microwavable meal, mashed potatoes and overcooked green beans. Last was a formless mound of apple cobbler and a container of fruit juice. The nurse left the room and the sound of the wheels once again moved on.

Ann stirred the meat in the gravy as the guilt of the night before started bumbling up in her throat. She felt the tears swelling up once again in her eyes. She looked up to see if Janet was watching her but her new roommate was too busy wolfing down her food.

“Man it’s like watching a prisoner on death row devouring his last meal”, Ann thought. She wiped her eyes with the back of the blue gown’s sleeve.

Ann began slowly eating the apple cobbler feeling sickened by the sight of the meat. The guilt only grew larger until Ann swore that she was going to have another breakdown there and then if she couldn’t put her mind onto something else.

“What were you going to tell me before the nurse came in?”

Janet looked up half startled as if she forgot someone else was in the room with her.

“What?”

“Before the nurse came in you said you wanted to tell me something.”

“Oh yeah, I was going tell you why I’m here if you’re interested in hearing it. But you don’t need to if you don’t want to. I understand. I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Well it’s up to you if you want to tell me. I’ll certainly listen.”

Janet put her spoon down on the tray, grabbed a napkin and wiped her face.

“I grew up in a really devout Catholic family, baptisms, went to church and confession every Sunday. The neighborhood priest marked our foreheads every Ash Wednesday. You know that kind of thing. When my brother and I were younger we played along with the whole thing, even started believing in some of it after a while. But when I was sixteen, I started getting a crush on this girl who sat next to me in class. I tried to get over it by sleeping with a lot of guys you know?”

“But nothing worked so I started hanging with this girl after school until I tried to kiss her. The bitch jumped up with disgust and ran out the door of my bedroom. I was humiliated. Well her parents told my parents next thing I know, I’m being taken to South Oaks for a mental evaluation. This is 1981 don’t forget. When they refused to take me. Some stupid fuckin priest came in to try to ‘counsel me out of my sickness.’ This lasted for about a year when I left home and moved into my own place.”

“I worked at some shit jobs until I got some grant money and went to school to study psychology. While I was there I found a girlfriend who I moved in with for about ten years. I started drinking heavily back then, especially when visiting my folks. Of course I could never bring my girlfriend over to meet them. But to make a long story short, I confessed my relationship to them. My family disowned me there and then, and I drank every day after that. My partner couldn’t take it anymore so she threw me out. Fast forward to about three weeks ago I got a call from my brother, that my dad just died and he thought I ought to know. And you know what that little bastard told me? He said that the family would prefer it if I didn’t show up to the funeral. Can you imagine that? I started to feel so guilty for everything I’d done to them which really put me into a tailspin. My partner now got really concerned by my outbursts and the fact I was never sober, I had cut back some years ago. I just kept crying, I want to die. She told me to stop or she would call 911. I told her if she did I would knock her out and showed her my fist but she knew I could never bring myself around to do it. So she called and here I am.” Janet’s voice hardened as she uttered those last words “and here I am.”

Janet picked up her spoon without saying another word and started eating, her hand visibly shaking. Tears began running down her cheeks as the veneer of being in control began to fall away. She threw her spoon down on the tray and put her face in her hands and began to weep softly. As Ann stood to try and console her roommate the unusually pale nurse walked in announcing that supper time was indeed over and it was time to collect the trays. She turned to Janet who was still crying in her hands, gave her a glance of contempt then walked out. Hearing her footsteps fade down the hall, Janet lifted her head and wiped her eyes.

“At least I’m off the bottle here.” She attempted a smile but she wound up only looking more defeated.

“I haven’t even thought of that stuff since I’ve been in here.”

She then grew silent. Without a word both Ann and Janet walked out of the room and into the day room.

In the halls the echoes of human voices seemed to come from no particular direction. All the faces who passed Ann were unfamiliar. Some moved towards the day room while others moved in the other direction. Still others seemed to move in no real direction at all. Some of these faces looked at Ann as they passed while others simply stared at the floor. One thin Hispanic girl passed with a sinister smile, looked straight into Ann’s eyes but said nothing. The doors that lined the hall were either wide open or ajar. In one room, a heavy set black woman lay on her bed curled in the fetal position with one eye swollen shut while the other stared at the doorway vacantly but saw nothing. Her mouth slowly formed letters and then words but said nothing that was audible.

“Her name is Margret. She came in yesterday night around the same time you did. Word has it that she is a prostitute and junkie. Her pimp beat her up for some reason according to the nurses but it’s all only rumors around here,” Janet stated solemnly.

Overhead a voice rang out of a loud speaker, “Ok guys, it’s that time! Time for meds. Also I need to see Ann Horn in the nurse’s office.” Janet pointed down the hall to indicate the direction of the office, “straight down the hall. Just look for the long line. Most of the guys line up long before the announcement is even made.”

Ann walked down the hall, past the Day room and found the long line. A nervous and emaciated black kid who shook uncontrollably was speaking to a Swedish looking boy standing behind him, “They better give me my meds soon or I’m gonna kick that metal door down. Either the door is going to break or my leg is…”

Behind the last person in line a door stood open. Ann walked over to see if that was in fact where she was supposed to be. Inside three plastic chairs were placed side by side against the far wall. An older nurse was in the middle seat with a clip board and paperwork on her lap. The nurse looked up then she then smiled warmly at Ann. The woman’s warmth also showed in her eyes and seemed genuine unlike the doctor’s from the early morning interview. The nurse waved for Ann to come inside and take a seat. Ann walked in slowly and sat in the seat to the left of the nurse. The two greeted each other with a hand shake as the nurse continued to smile.

“Hello Ms. Horn, I’m Nurse Lynn. We need to go over a few things.”

The warmth in her voice while seeming sincere somehow came off as a con, as noticeable as a shell game. It was impossible to know where the con began and ended but Ann was sure that the grandmother sitting beside her was going by a script.

“I spoke about you to the doctor a few minutes ago. We went over your medication protocol.”

The smile and friendly look vanished from the nurses face and was replaced by a serious stare, though the warmth was still present in her voice.

“First, it says here in your records that you were placed on medication after your last visit to the hospital,l is that correct?”

“Yes that’s true but I stopped taking them a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Because I hated the way they made me feel. I started walking around all day like a zombie and started to feel nothing at all.”

“Well the doctor insists that we put you on 60 milligrams of the meds while you are here.”

As if on cue of some well-planned act performed night after night, Ann’s semi regular psychiatrist strolled into the nurse’s station with a troubled look on her face. She then both greeted Ann and the nurse then sat in the seat to the right.

Ann just looked at her, stunned, but did not voice any objections.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here. I came as soon as I could. Boy I’ve been really busy lately.”

Without looking up from Ann’s records, the nurse explained,

“I was just going over with Ann the meds we would like to try with her.”

Ann felt her body begin to stiffen and her defenses were now at full strength again.

“I told you I’m not taking any of those goddam drugs I’m not going to walk around like some zombie.”

The words slid out of a clinched jaw and tightly balled fists.

“Look Ms. Horn, if you don’t take these meds we will need to hold you indefinitely. Obviously we can’t strap you down unless you’re a threat to yourself or the staff while you’re here, but the doctors can make your exit from this place very difficult. We can’t let you leave while you’re in this state” the nurse stated trying to keep the motherly tone.

Ann looked over at the nurse with a knowing grin. She was in her mind already walking out the metal door while the doctors and nurses watched helplessly, knowing the seventy three hours was up. And she was free to go home then her final destination. Her doctor looked over to Ann with concern look in her eyes. She spoke softly with a bit of a quiver in her voice.

“Look Ann if you don’t start to cooperate soon I will have to write a letter to the head doctor recommending that you should be kept here until you’re on some sort of protocol. If these drugs don’t work for you, you know other drug combinations can be tried. If you don’t cooperate it will be very hard for you to get out of here even after your seventy three hours are over.”

Ann now felt herself finding it hard to breathe as if she was an animal trapped in a net and as she struggled to free herself, the net seemed to only tighten. She began to feel that every breath became an effort.

“Don’t I have a say in this? I’m not going to have these drugs forced on me! I’m leaving after my time here is up. I don’t care anymore. You can’t keep me here against my will! This isn’t a prison it’s just a fuckin’ hospital! I’m only staying now because I have to but after that I’m gone! Why don’t you let me go home now! I promise I’ll be fine. Just let me go, please, please!”

The doctor stood up in a moment of frustration but made sure not to raise her voice, “You have to calm down. We’re not your enemies here. We didn’t make you swallow those pills. We’re just trying to help you figure this out so hopefully it doesn’t happen again.”

The nurse now with the cold of the institution in her voice and all pretense of friendliness having fallen away, stated flatly. “Listen the head doctor can keep you here as long as he sees fit and that includes after the seventy three hours you seem to cling to for some reason.”

The rope tightened further. Ann’s fists were now clinched so tight that small red pools started dripping from her palms on to her gown. Her jaw was like that of a trap but her words which came through gasps were able to escape.

“Ok goddammit! You won! If you want to beat me, uncle, uncle already. I can’t take much more of this.”

Tears started to stream down her face. She looked down at her feet and started to cry like a defeated child. The nurse stood up and walked over to grab two cups sitting on a counter top near a sink. She then turned and stood in front of Ann handing her first the cup with the pills. Ann put her head back and dropped the meds into her mouth. Then the water.

“Ok open your mouth. Lift your tongue. Ok. Pull your left cheek. Now right.”

It took almost no time for her head to feel light and off balance. Her hands began to relax. The nurse quickly ran over the cupboard and grabbed bandages and tape to rap Ann’s now bleeding palms. After she was finished, Ann stood up,

“Can I leave now?”

“Sure.”

Ann walked out and headed towards the day room. She could hear her doctor and the nurse speaking behind her. Their voices became muffled behind the closed door. But soon their voices gave way to the loud roar from the television set. When she reached the day room Ann noticed for the first time that it was much larger than she thought it was. The shroud of sleep must have hidden so much of this room behind some unidentifiable shadow. Off to the right of the room the television sat on a wooden stand. A small two-person couch along with some chairs created a half circle around the set. Three long tables were placed off to the left near a shelf with board games and playing cards. Two older men were playing chess at one of the tables while at another, a thin youngish girl was taunting another one around the same age.

The assailant just kept repeating “Why won’t you tell me? Go ahead tell me. What, are you scared? Tell me. Come on you little bitch tell me…”

The other girl who was just as pale as the strange nurse who delivered the meals, just sat there with her hands covering her ears and her eyes closed tightly crying,

“No, no stop it. Leave me alone! Stop it! Leave me alone you bitch! Why won’t you leave me alone! Fuck off!”

A nurses came over to break them up. She pulled the bully aside and spoke in the same comforting voice as the workers who spoke with Ann.

Ann walked over to the TV area. The couch and seats were all occupied. Janet was sitting near Alice on the couch. Alice seemed to be paying no attention to the set but stared off into space.

“Pull up a seat from one of them tables back there,” A large heavyset black woman, whose head was shaved and scared, suggested with only a faint interest in her voice. Ann just walked over to one of the tables sat down and threw her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the television. The news was on featuring a story about a serial killer out on Long Island leaving the dismembered bodies of prostitutes by the waters of Sands Point.

Suddenly Ann could feel herself being watched. She didn’t open her eyes or bother to lift her head.

“You got a quata now lady?”

“No.”

“But I want a quuuata.”

Ann finally lifted her head and opened her eyes. Alice was standing there crest fallen.

“I have no pockets and all my money is at home so please stop asking me.”

“Ohh-kayyy.” Alice then walked out of the day room and down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Ann leaned her head back once more and felt the wards, both doctor and nurses and patients alike, fall millions of miles away. The buzzing from the tube lights filled her ears and suddenly she saw herself being put into a box and shoved into an incinerator. “I’m the luckiest one of all” Ann said to no one at all with no irony in her voice, into the great void of sleep. Feeling herself fall further into this dream she wished would never end, Ann felt her leg kick involuntarily which brought her back to the day room. She looked over to the couch again, the guilt swelled in Ann’s chest and throat for being short with the strange woman but instead of apologizing to the woman, she migrated to the now open spot on the couch next to Janet. Janet turned to her with some surprise,

“Oh hey you’re back. What took you so long at the nurse’s office?”

“They want to put me on medication which I hate taking. I tried to explain to her that I walk around like a zombie all day. It’s horrible to be walking around not being able to feel anything. I’d rather feel terrible than nothing. Then my therapist showed up which freaked me out. I should probably have handled things better I guess and not have yelled at them. But I don’t like feeling like prisoner.”

“You shouldn’t make too much trouble for them it’s better not to be noticed or even remembered in this place. The more you stick out the more they will be inclined to label you a trouble maker and make it really difficult to be released. It’s best to just disappear into the background or play along with them. Just take their pills while you’re here, and your release will be almost automatic. That’s unless they deem you too dangerous for the outside world, or to yourself. Christ what happened to your hand?”

“Oh I dug my finger nails a little too deep into my palms which drew a little blood. Nothing serious. I took the meds and already feel light headed.”

An older woman whose feet barely could touch the floor while sitting in her seat next to the television and whose back was bent so far over, leaning back became impossible, turned to the women, with a finger to her lips, “SSsshhhhhhhh. Shut the hell up!”

Turning to the senior, the African American woman furrowed her brow taking on a motherly role, “Ruthie you can’t speak to people like that. This aint yo home here. Those girls can talk if they want to.”

Ruthie turned to her with a twisted face and shot back, “If they want to talk let them go to their rooms. This is the only time I get to watch the news. I’ve already missed the last story. We should have the right to not be disturbed by noise.”

“Noise? There is noise all the time here. All the hallways have noise all the fuckin’ time. Voices, shoes, all the time! Goes on all the time even during bed time! All the time. Nurses and patients all the time, talkin’ so loud! I haven’t slept in a week so don’t tell me about noise! And the buzzing from those goddam tube lights. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Leave it alone Ruthie.”

Ruthie shrunk back like a scolded child with hurt eyes but without saying a word. She turned back to the television set. Ann and Janet looked at each other and started laughing, the laughter of two kids who discovered each other for the first time.

“These two do this all the time. They have this back and forth every single night.”

Ann looked over to one of the windows but only saw the back of one of the lucky ones. There was no use in trying to look past the figure’s back, out onto the world she was a part of just the day before, as was the beaten whore whose name Ann wasn’t sure she would ever know. Everyone on the floor, both patient and staff alike have all been part of that outside world at one point or another. Inside the ward, they all lived in a different world, one with a different legal apparatus. Extreme behavior was your ticket to stay as long as it wasn’t too extreme, then off you would go, either strapped to your bed or escorted to one of the “quiet rooms.” It was a world where if you were on twenty four hour suicide watch, the law was to find the head nurse on staff every time you had to take a piss. Another nurse would stand outside the stall to wait for you. This was the world where time had no meaning outside of meal time, med time and bed time. But there was one more important time that they all looked forward to. That was to see the doctor so he can evaluate you and if you were lucky, he’d give you your walking papers. The noises of wandering ghosts continued to echo in the hallways, as the incessant buzzing of the lights would forever continue to remind everyone there how much they were truly on the outside while calling the world behind the heavy metal door, home. Ann could feel herself growing tired again and turned back to the television to finish watch

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