Page 124 of Judas

Two squeezes.

“Took you in to get patched up. Surgery for a few hours, then up on the post-surgical floor for a long nap. Well, that side of you that likes to cause mayhem showed up and gave me one hell of a bruised neck. Shouted for help, staff did what they could to get you under control, now we’re here.”

Fearing I know where this is going, I give him two more squeezes. He waits for a few seconds, then I feel his other hand resting on the back of mine. Cocooning me in his grip.

“Just a few floors north, Sunshine. In the mental health ward. They heard you saying some things in a language they’ve never heard and doped you up on your medication. Said it will help regulate you and get you back to the level you were on before all this shit started to go down.”

The bits and pieces I can remember have to be what he’s talking about. Literally the only thing that makes sense, even if nothing else does. When I was first put on the medication it helped me with the abrupt shifts from one person to the next. Originally, being on pills made me worry. Not wanting to turn into some zombified version of myself—willing to live through the drastic transitions even if I’d end up lost most of the time.

It wasn't until I was a few months on the Risperdal that I, Sadie, began to really shine. My school focus came back, started hanging out with people from my classes, took upextra curricular activities, then of course there’s the gym. My appointments were better too, even if my relationship with my adoptive parents was too damaged to reconcile. For a few years I felt much better, living my life like I should have since the beginning.

Then everything started to change and I didn’t know why. My other parts started to shift through again and it wasn’t gradual either. It was like someone opened a faucet and they came pouring in where I fought to remain in control. Finally, though, Kate won over and I was plunged into darkness.

Fuck, I wish I could open my eyes and see who is sitting there. To thank him for having my back when no one else has—at least not when I’m a non-functioning schizophrenic. Silence descends on him, yet his hands don’t leave mine. If all I have is him keeping me earth side, then that’s enough.

“I guess your mom and dad are done dealing with that shithead uncle of yours. He’s been down for a few hours, so your dad says. Gonna go ahead and get him ready to transport out in the next couple of days—whatever that means. Your old man is surly, I ever tell you that? Either way, something’s truly off with Lucien and he’s better off somewhere the sun can go. If Havok has anything to say about it, he might end up as fish food while en route, but that stays between you and I. Alright Sunshine?”

Two squeezes.

“Atta girl. Your mom’s going to be up here tomorrow to see you. I guess between now and then, I’ll have to annoy you enough to open those eyes and start trying to bite me again.”

What the fuck.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughs. “You’re awfully expressive in your facial features. Couldn’t hide your feelings even if you wanted to.”

He thinks that I’m expressive? Never thought that about myself, always trying to hide who I am by pulling my maskdown. Something akin to a security blanket—safe. Man is out of his mind if he thinks he can read me so well, surely. I will admit, though, him being able to see past it is almost as warming as his grip on my hand.

Fighting the exhaustion becomes too much after a while and I sink into slumber while he continues speaking to me, giving me glimpses into the life he has lived. Never once telling me the woes, respectful of my condition. I’ve had other people try to talk to me about these things, especially my adoptive parents where my father would tell me people have it worse than I do. How my situation is one of the best I could have ever hoped for. Father would also try to explain to me that life isn’t easy and while I understand that, it didn’t make my childhood better. Mother may have felt she was doing the necessary things to care for their defective purchase but father was tearing me down. Comparing the hardships he went through as a child to my diagnosis.

There are holes in my mind, and how I wished the memories of him would be swallowed whole. Just let me be a simple girl.

A little while later, something pulls me from my rest. This time, though, I feel more in control over my body. It’s easier to move my limbs, my fingers wiggle easier too. Doesn’t require so much effort to tilt my head or curl my lips in where they rub together. The skin from the dry spots scratch against the smoother areas and I honestly don’t mind. Typically I would chew and pull at the dry skin or slather chapstick all over them, but today it’s nice to feel something tangible.

I’m still here— I’m still Sadie.

“Morning,” his voice is rougher. It almost sounds like he hasn’t used it in days, or maybe he was sleeping the same time I was. A light comes on and it’s so bright even with my eyes still closed. Pulling my right hand up to shield them while also squeezing them tight, it drops right back down to the bed. Groaning, I tiltmy head forward and away from the pillow I’m sure is bracing it, and scowl towards my uncooperative arm.

“It’s a restraint, Sunshine.”

“Why am I restrained?” My voice is rougher than his. Half breathy, the other half sounding like I’ve gargled a handful of thumb-tacks.

“So you don’t pull out your IV.”

Takes me a few seconds to connect the dots as to why I would have done something like that, then his brief story about me bruising him hits like a freight train.”

“Why would I do that? Also, can you turn that damn light off? It’s hurting my head.”

The brightness quickly disappears, now I need to open my eyes. I want to see who’s with me, and if he is as bruised as he says he is.

“Don’t think you did it. Was that wild card in your melon? A vicious thing. Here, let me help you with that.”

I let him, no fight in me right now. With a gentle flip, my hand turns over and I hear the rasp of velcro. Cold air hits my skin next, sending a slight wave of goosebumps up my arm. Hearing him move away, the air shifts until I sense him at the other side of me and he’s doing the same thing with my left.

What do I say to that? How do I begin to apologize for something I have no control over?

“You did good though, healed up well.”

“You’re kidding right? I probably look like a drowned rat covered in someone else’s fluids.”

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