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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Dark · #1888121
Chapter 4 A memoir. Trigger Warning: Trauma

The phone, the phone, just get to the phone. I grab it and dial the long distance number. It rings forever before anyone picks up.
I’m sobbing.
‘Hello?!!!!! Josh??!!’
‘Mom I need you to come and get me. They are trying to do electroshock therapy on me. Please hurryyyyyy!’
‘Honey honey..calm down now. What the doctors name and give me the number to the nurses’ station!!! Now!!!’
I choke out the name and the number.
‘Mom please hurry and come and get me.’
‘Okay okay!!! I’ll be on my way just let me call first okay?’

I hang up the phone and sit in terror on my bed. Crying and sobbing I start that damn rocking again, but I can’t stop myself. I realize my door is open and jump up to close it off to the world. No….that doctor’s tricking me. They can’t do this to me without my consent. There’s no way this can happen. Even after trying to self-soothe I am still terrified and crying.

Am I that sick? Am I truly that sick? Maybe this grey fog will never dissipate. Maybe I AM that sick. I shuffle to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror, but there is none. Not even a mirror to be had. I turn the TV off and look into the blackness at myself standing there. My faded green scrubs are falling off of me. I grab the back of the shirt and wrench my neck around to look at the size; it says X-Small. I look back into the TV again and finally see the train wreck.

In the middle of my seeing the carcass that is my body, the phone rings. I walk over slowly and answer on the third ring.
‘Honey..it’s Mom!’
My voice comes out robotic and emotionless.
‘Can you still come get me?’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can to see you but I want you to listen to me okay? I TALKED to that so called doctor and they will NOT be doing anything to you without your consent! So honey don’t be scared…nothing is going to happen and I’m on my way.’
I start to cry and can’t speak for a few minutes.
‘Maybe I should stay but can you come anyway in case I change my mind?’
‘I’m hanging up the phone right now and I’m on my way. They told me when the visiting hours were so I’ll go to your house first and then I’ll see you first thing in the morning. I love you honey.’
‘Love you too mom.’
I slowly place the phone back on the cradle; not wanting to let go of the connection. Please hurry.

I hear a knock and the door opening, just knowing that any second I’ll see my mother’s face, but instead I am confronted with the regular psychiatrist I see through the counseling center at the University. She’s wearing a huge smile and I know she’s sincere when she says, ‘JOSH!!! I’m so happy to see you; not here, of course, but happy nonetheless!’
My day has just been made.
‘Dr. Lall! Hey!!!’
Dr. Lall is a young, beautiful Pakistani woman that stands about 4 foot 8 inches tall and I seriously have a monumentally massive crush on her. Her brown eyes sparkle as she walks across the room in a red flowing skirt with her hair bobbing just slightly from the wavy curls in her silky dark hair. No matter how depressed I am we somehow always end up laughing about the darkness of it and I love her for it. I need the humor; I need the love and affection she gives. The sad part of this is that she gave me her home phone number and crossed way too many boundaries to be of help to me. I called that number every day in the silence of the night to hear a comforting voice and to be assured that I wasn’t crazy. Someone to tell me that I was normal; one person who actually liked me for me. She liked me.
‘How are you doing?’
‘I want out. This place is sucking ass and I want out. Do you KNOW that doctor that sees me?’
‘We’ll that crazy bitch wants to give me electroshock therapy!!!’
She looks surprised and says, ‘Noooooo…..really?’
‘YES REALLY! They’re out of their minds here!!’
‘Listen to me for a second, just stay a few days, eat, rest, go to the activities and I will come by and see you.’
‘You’ll come see me????!!!!’
‘Not everyday…I’ll see you again the day after tomorrow. I promise.’
‘Okay…I’ll stay in this hell hole but you had better make good on the promise or I’m out of here for good AND that means I’m not coming back to see YOU again either after I get out!’
‘Calm downnnn…I promise. Now..I gotta go but can I give you a quick hug before I leave?’
She leans in to hug me and whispers very low and insistently into my ear, ‘Do what you have to do to get OUT of this place!!’

She walks out, leaving me stunned. In fact, it was chilling the way she relayed that message to me. I felt icy coldness running u and down my body. That’s it……..I have got to suck up everything that is making me lose my fucking mind. No more sadness, no more anxiety, no more thinking about a sex change, no more ANYTHING but happy, smiling, jolly, joking Josh! I have to get better gradually though so it doesn’t look too suspicious.

Another night of fitful sleep and I wake to find my breakfast waiting for me on the cart by my bed. Okay…I can do this, I can do this. I reach over and slide the cart so that the covered meal is right in front of me. Instead of taking the lid off of my meal though; I fix my coffee and poke the straw through the foil on my orange juice. I reach for the lid cautiously, take it off, and place it to the side on my tray. Well, there it is…breakfast. I feel my stomach start to lurch but I ignore the queasy feeling and stare at my food. The toast I think I can handle, but seeing the eggs and sausage make me want to vomit until the only thing left to come out is my organs.


Why didn’t I think of this before!!!!! I push the tray away, run up to my doorway and check the hallway; good..it’s quiet. I close the door and run back to where my food lays in the tray. I take the toast and the brownie from the tray and set them aside. Oh my God, I’m so happy I could just do a jig right now!!! I take the fork and cut up the sausage on my tray and then pick up the whole plate. Picking up the plate I start walking towards the bathroom with a satisfied smile on my face. I look into the toilet and with my fork, start scraping the contents of the plate into it. Wait…leave a little on the plate dumbass!!! I run back to where my tray is and place the plate back into its original position. It’s the first time I feel good since I’ve been here. Clicking the TV on I flip to the news channel and nibble on my packaged brownie; which I’m figuring is the only safe piece of food. Yes, I grin, this can work I believe.


The day nurse comes into my room. I like her; she’s an older black lady and she makes me feel comforted.
‘Mr. Hunt!!! You ate some of your breakfast today! Are you feeling a little better?’
‘Yeahhhhhhhh…….maybe a little. I was hungrier than I thought I was. It’s not the greatest food, but it worked.’
‘Well gooooddddddddd. I’m really glad to hear that. Oh yeah..the food leaves much to be desired doesn’t it? But you did good!’ She takes the tray and leaves the room.

I win I win I win I win I win I win I win I win I win I win

I’m feeling quite empowered now; I turn my attention back to the TV and I happily grin at the genius of my plan.
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