He Said I'm Getting Better

Allira Correia doesn't know why they brought her here, or even how long she's been in the institute. Facing her current situation is difficult, but facing her past is impossible.

She huddled in the corner of her room as the lock clicked, the heavy door pushing inward and letting bright light flood in. The figure in the white coat was back again, most likely bearing more of the bitter pills. Or maybe they would make her dizzy and take her to the dark room with the lamp, the room where they plugged her into machines and wouldn’t let her go.

She withdrew further, trying to make herself disappear into the wall. She desperately wanted to get away from the White Coat, to save herself from any more of the abuse, but the White Coat just kept coming closer, flicking on the light inside the room. She cringed as the light flooded her room. She didn’t like the light, it was used to study her. The door swung shut and she was trapped, cornered by the White Coat. She let out a whine, shutting her eyes most of the way, just giving herself just enough room to faintly see the White Coat.

The White Coat came ever closer, placing a hand out to reach for her and she shuddered, shriveling away from it. The White Coat sighed. “I just want to chat a little, Miss Correia. I won’t hurt you.” White coat bent down, crouching in front of her. The motion revealed it to be another woman, one with lovely auburn hair. “I’m Dr. Finau, come on, let’s have a talk.”

            “Why can’t you just leave me alone.” She whimpered, staring up with the ghostly eyes of a woman who’s been broken. “I…I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to go home.”

White Coat crossed its arms over itself. It may have a name but she refused to acknowledge it. If she showed weakness they would take advantage of her. “Can you tell me how long you’ve been here, Allira?” It asked, almost sweetly, but Allira knew better.

“How do you know my name?” Allira stuttered out the words, standing up in order to better press herself into the corner. “Why am I here?”

“So we can make you better. Answer my question Allira.” The thing kept going, not willing to give in. Allira would do anything just to make it leave her room.

“Th…three weeks?” Allira’s voice rose up slightly, unsure of the correct answer.

The White Coat wrote something down on her clipboard. “Do you remember seeing me last week?” It questioned, clearly working its way down a short list of them that were written down in front of it.

“No, only the other White Coat, the boy one.” Allira, stared at it as if it was a foolish child. “They’ve never put you in here with me before. I…I was told I was getting better, that I could go home soon. Please, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“You will Allira, I promise.” It was lying, they always lied. They told her they cared about her, that they wanted to make life easier. But the bruises from the injections and restraints told a different tale. “I just have a few more questions alright?”

Allira nodded at it, waiting for this to end. Her breathing was shallow and weak like a mouse hiding from a predator. She didn’t acknowledge the lie, even though she knew it existed. Telling them they lied just made them bring in the dizzying needle. She picked at the scabs on her fingers that had been there as long as she could remember.  

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Allira stopped, contemplating the idea. “I…I think….uh…I.” she froze, a memory from the past drifting into her mind. She let out an ear-splitting wail and the White Coat rushed to the door. Allira shrieked and began to scratch into her skin, the memories overwhelming her. The White Coat motioned to a burly man in the hall and he rushed in, that terrible needle in hand.

Allira kicked at him, rushing for the door. He grabbed her around the waist and forcing the drug into her neck. It only took a few moments for her head to rush and she whimpered, falling limp in his arms. He laid her on the bed and her head swam before peaceful blackness surrounded her.

 

*   *   *

 

Dr. Finau Braced herself before entering the room. Allira Correia had been in the institute for three months now, but she only remembered about four weeks of it. Her memory faltered when she went through episodes, which were much too often. The girl had a long list of triggers, everything from the sound of a piano to the shine of gold jewelry. They couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her disorder, it seemed Allira had been repressing all the memories. The poor child was only seventeen.

            She had barely lived, yet her mother had committed her to the institute. She was like a jewel to them here. Acute Stress Disorder wasn’t a particularly rare disorder, but Miss Correia had a very severe case and studying her mind had revealed many things. Dr. Shirizza had been in charge of her before he’d gone soft and started trying to actually cure the patients. Needless to say, the rash decision had placed him in a room of his own and Dr. Finau took on his patients.

            Allira cowered as always, contact with the doctors was something she always avoided. She was a lovely child when she came into the care of the institute, but that beauty was ruined now. Her face was sunken and pale, her skin taunt over her bones from refusal to eat. Her once shimmering black hair now hung in limp, dull strands. She constantly shook as if she was cold or terrified, her wide brown eyes the only part of her that still showed any sign of who she used to be.

As the questions went on Dr. Finau kept a close eye on the girl’s behavior. She had stayed too long last time and received a violent scratch across her face for her troubles. The guard outside was a comfort she insisted on this week. When Allira started to pull at her scabs the doctor tightened, aware that this was the first sign to show when the girl was triggered.

When the screaming started she was ready, signaling the guard to sedate Allira. The man rushed in and Dr. Finau went on her way, not bothering to stay to watch the spectacle. The guard would most likely bruise the poor child, maybe even break a bone, but it didn’t matter. As long as her mind was intact they’d have what they needed from her. The doctor retreated to her office, readying the files for the next patient she would be paying a visit to today.

             

Reviews

[Sevendayspast]

I really liked this. I think my favorite thing is how the character and you refer to the doctors as white coats. Its a sad world in the mental hospitals and I thinks its fantastic that your writing about the people in them.
-Chuck