Molly and Spring Time 1976.

Spring the nurse said had arrived, the view from the window showed nothing new, except perhaps a brighter sky, a newer blue. You helped make the beds with the nurse Blue because she always gave you   a cigarette afterwards. Breakfast time you sat eating the porridge that was thick as mud and tasted like it too. The thick slices of bread were fresh and still warm and you dumped large doses of butter on top. Brooks had attacked the woman who tried to sit in her armchair; a new woman who knew nothing of Brook’s armchair and that no one else sat there. Your other self wanted to drag Brooks out of her precious chair and batter her senseless and push out her beady eyes; but you ignored her voice inside your head. Jamie, your boyfriend whom you suffocated, stood by the window of the lounge staring at you with his ghostly eyes. His dead sister Anne stood next to him equally as dim. They disappeared once you passed them in the corridor, your other self talking smut to them.  The Irish nurse and the burly nurse accompanied you to go see the quack that afternoon. He was a tall, dark-haired man, with bushy eyebrows like hairy bugs. You sat opposite him with both nurses on each side of you in case  you should attack the quack as you had the last one. How are we? He asked, looking at the pages of your file. Don’t answer him, your other self said inside your head. She said not to answer you, you uttered. He looked at you, raising his eyebrows. He looked at both nurses, then said: I see only you here, Molly, so how are you? You leapt at him across his desk, leaving the two nurses sitting there, and you had grabbed at his nose and thumped him until the two nurses dragged you to the floor, and held you down until you relaxed. They didn’t inject you, but let you calm down. The quack had a bloodied nose, but was otherwise unhurt. He said no more to you, but just wrote down in your file all about the event. Teatime you sat alone in the cooling down room nibbling the stale sandwiches and sipping the mug of tea. Your other self was quiet, no more urges to anger or riot.