Secluded by Dementia

Staring past a bright white wall, or rather trying to look through it, I wonder. I mean really wonder, like a child does when he or she cannot discern where it is babies come from. Or like when you talk to your cat and all it does is stare back at you, having no clue as to what it is you are saying but it watches closely, to depict your body movements. This wall is one I've seen time and time again, but until now I have not realized it is just like the hard, sugary coat of a cherry flavored tootsie-pop with the soft creamy caramel center. The only differences other that the obvious fact this is a wall and not a piece of candy, is that this wall resides within, and instead of keeping me from getting to the center, it keeps me from getting to the outside. That's what the wall is for: to keep me in.

I wonder how it is I came to be trapped within this four-walled cubicle to begin with. Usually when things like this happen, I am quite aware of them. Not in this case. The only memories I have are dark and painful; I remember tears shedding and lots and lots of screaming. I don't even know where I am sometimes. What State? What Country? City? Where am I? It's not the first time they've moved me. I believe it was six months ago, more or less, that I was aware of my location. I hate it when they move me. It's never pleasant; I always fuss and that's when they make me go in the darkness. I hate the darkness. It never does any good when they put me there. Nowadays, instead of thinking endless hours about it, I like to pretend I actually know where I am, and that I'm happy for once. One minute I'll be in my private jet on the way to Hawaii; another minute I'll be riding on a camel in Egypt or thrashing my way through the Amazons in South America. I like to wonder, and try new things; that's all. People tell me I'm like a six year old trapped in a thirty year old body, but I laugh at them.

It makes me depressed sometimes what these people do to me. What have I done to them? Tell me, because I really don't know. I don't know much about the outside world now that I think about it. They've kept me in here for so long, it's difficult to remember a thing. I hate them for doing this to me. I really do. Won't they just leave me alone already? I'm tired of people telling me I'm not okay, but if I behave I soon will be. They tell me that if I cooperate, they won't have to hurt me. I'm sick of being hurt, don't they see? Every time I try to open my mouth to object, words don't come out. I get so numb from all the pain. I'm tired of having to do things by force. I want my independence. I want to break away from the center of my tootsie-pop and chew right through the shell. I want to be free. But, I can't. They won't let me; no matter how hard I try. They are in my way.

Shhh. I hear voices now, coming. They're near. I must be on my best behavior now. Here she is, the lady with the white clothes and the man too.

"Emily, we're back." She says. I can hear her getting closer. "This won't hurt a bit." She assures me, but I know better. She grabs my arm and tries to inject me with the darkness venom. I struggle, trying to pull my arm away before she sticks the sharp object inside of me. The man grabs my arm and holds it still for her, and then I feel it. The cold sensation as her tool breaks my skin. I feel it surging through my veins as the man restrains me so I can't run. The pain is unbearable. My vision blurs and my body goes limp. The man helps me lay down while the woman puts away her tools. Soon my body tires, and my eyes feel heavy, closing slowly even though I try to maintain them open. They close despite my efforts and once again I see the dark. The last thing I hear is the lady whisper, "Sweet dreams," and then the click of the shutting door. I lose all consciousness. The venom has done its work.

* * *

" How is she doing?"I ask impatiently as the nurse closes the door to Emily's room. She had just come back from giving her sleeping meds. I had seen the whole thing through this damn one-sided window. I saw how she struggled in there. I could see the hurt in her eyes. The look pained me so much I shed tears, until finally I had to look away. I wish there were more I could do for her, instead of standing by and watching her suffer. Then later inquiring after her when I know very well she is miserable.

" I am sorry to say Mr. Richards, that your wife is not yet showing improvement. Only God knows what's going through her poor head. In fact we'll have to remove her from our facility and place her elsewhere for a month or two. Here's the card of the facility we will be transferring her to next week. They already know about our decision to move her there. They will be expecting your call." She said and gave me an apathetic smile before waking away to treat the other patients. I stood there, miserable, as another shred of hope was lost. I looked down at the card and read:

Oakwood Mental Illness Facility
295 Chamber St.
(999) 555-1000

Still shocked from the nurse's news, I reached for my wallet in my back pocket and placed the card in one of the cardholders. Just as I was closing it, my eyes began leaking tears of sadness when they came across a photograph of my deceased son, Joey. It had been reduced to a smaller size the day of his fifth birthday last year, only so it would fit in my wallet. I still remember the joy on his face as he handed it to me. His exact words being:

" Do you like it daddy? Momma and me took it to the drug store and made it small so it could fit in your pocket. That way when you're at work, you have something to remind you of me."The glow in his eyes when he said that was priceless. I would give anything to see it again. I looked back down at the picture and found myself unable to tear my eyes away from his angelic face.

" Oh how I wish you were still here." I whispered, silently. Tears sprang from my eyes as I carefully placed my wallet back into my back pocket. I reluctantly made my way towards the exit, with eyes still blurred from all the vices of life neither a man nor woman should have to experience.