Place: The Dayroom at St Ann’s Time: Early evening, one day early 2011
Marty was sitting by herself in a corner of the dayroom at St Ann’s. She was rolling a skein of yarn to knit a sweater for Hope. It was a repetitious act but she found that she enjoyed repetitious acts these days. As she wrapped the yarn into a more manageable ball, she tried to sort things out in her head. Separate the real from the unreal. She found that telling herself the true things over and over helped. There was a space in her head that wanted to get lost again, wanted to forget what she knew to be true and believe the lies. But she knew she couldn’t let it. If she did, she thought, she might not find her way out of the fog again.
“Not my baby. Not mine,” she whispered to herself over and over again. “No baby. Baby gone. All the babies are gone. Cole…gone. Nothing left now. Just me now, me alone. A curse?”
Suddenly, two nuns stepped into the doorway to get out of the way of some commotion in the corridor. Sister Temperance and Sister Constance, two novitiates, new to St Ann’s and Llanview. They didn’t notice Marty sitting alone in the corner.
“I don’t understand,” said Temperance. “Why would the diocese accept such a patient? We aren’t equipped. We don’t have a locked ward or the staff to support violent offenders.”
“Well, you know I don’t like to tell tales,” Constance responded, “So, promise you’ll keep this quiet as a tomb, okay?”
Marty instinctively settled further into her chair in the corner and tried to make herself part of the furnishings. She didn’t know what was happening, but Sister Connie’s conspiratorial tone frightened her. “Of course,” said Temperance, “ I’ll take it to heaven with me.”
“Well,” Connie began, pausing each time another orderly flew past in the corridor, “I happened to be praying in the chapel just a little while ago when I heard Reverend Mother in the narthex with Father Timothy. They were speaking in hushed tones, but it was so quiet, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversation. I wasn’t eavesdropping, you understand. There was really nothing I could do but—“
“Yes, yes, but what did they say?” Temperance questioned impatiently.
“Well, it seems that someone pulled some strings at a very high level within the diocese to get this “criminal” admitted. Even Father Timothy didn’t seem to know who, but he was quite firm with Reverend Mother. ‘You WILL accept this patient,’ he told her. ‘You WILL remember your vows, Margaret Sue, and you WILL offer aid to this lost soul,’ he said.”
Temperance gasped. “Father Timothy used Reverend Mother’s given name? I can’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s true. And now he’s on his way, the new patient, and what’s more, no one seems to know HIS name, either. He’s just Patient X on all the documents. AND he’s apparently on some sort of drug cocktail the likes of which no one at this facility has ever been prescribed.”
“You don’t say!” Temperance gasped again, more loudly this time.
“Sshhh…keep your tongue Tempe,” Connie warned. Both looked carefully up and down the corridor to be sure no one had heard. When it seemed all was clear, Connie continued, “I was just folding towels in the infirmary, when I heard Sister Miriam say that she had never even heard of half the drugs this man is on, but the ones she had heard of were meant for patients who couldn’t be controlled. Do you know they’re actually moving all of the furniture out of the room he’ll be in and taking all of the glass out of his bathroom. He’ll not have more than a mattress on the floor when they’re done.”
“But why? Is he suicidal?”
“No, but apparently he’s been known to purposely injure himself in his attempts to escape. Sister Miriam said he must have an extremely high tolerance for pain given the list of self-inflicted injuries.”
“It’s unconscionable,” Sister Temperance whispered. “Why would a patient with such severe problems be sent to us? Our Lord surely does work in the most mysterious ways, Connie. The most mysterious ways.”
Suddenly the Reverend Mother appeared at the end of the corridor. “You two. There. Lingering about the dayroom. Close that door and help Sister Clara move patients to the dining hall. Our new lamb is arriving and we don’t need any unexpected encounters with this one.”
The novices responded immediately and in unison. “Yes, Reverend Mother. Right away.” Temperance grabbed the dayroom door and began to pull it closed. Just before it closed completely, Marty heard Sister Constance sigh and say, “I don’t know about the Lord, Tempe, but someone wants that man in Llanview and they want it now.”
As soon as they were gone Marty felt herself exhale and draw a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it until she let herself breathe again. She felt a pain in the palm of her hand and realized she’d been clutching the ball of yarn so tightly that her fingers had gone straight through and dug into the skin of her palm. Why was she suddenly so afraid? She didn’t understand it. It was like the weight of an ancient curse had fallen over her like a funeral cloak.
Why am I here? I lost something. What did I lose? Something is missing? I have to find it, she thought. She felt the fog slipping into her head again. She dropped the ball of yarn and stood to exit the dayroom. She would go back to her own room and lie down for a while, put the lies to sleep. As she neared the dayroom door she heard more voices in the corridor. It was the Reverend Mother again.
“He can sit quietly in the dayroom while we finish readying his room. It won’t take much longer. We’ve had so little time to prepare. There’s just one exit and the windows in that room don’t open. All the other patients are in the dining hall. Mister…X…won’t be disturbed here. Please, this way.” The door swung open and Marty found herself face to face with…a ghost, she thought.
She stood, open-mouthed, staring at the specter before her. It couldn’t be. It was a trick of some sort. She knew him, but this couldn’t be him. Not anymore. Unless…was the other even real? As Mr. X advanced towards her, Marty began to slowly back away. She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t speak. She heard strange choking sounds coming from her throat, but the words wouldn’t seem to organize.
His hair was longish and tucked behind his ear on one side. His face was clean-shaven with just the hint of a five o’ clock shadow. He seemed…bigger…than the other one…more imposing, somehow. His hazel eyes were heavily lidded like he was drugged and there were dark circles underneath. But she knew those eyes and she could see that they knew her too.
It had been just seconds but it felt like an eternity when Marty finally was able to speak. “No. You’re not real,” she insisted, slowly shaking her head back and forth. “I know what’s true now. I know what’s real. You can’t trick me. You aren’t you.” She slowly retreated into the dayroom and shook her head at the improbability of it all. “Unless…there can’t be two of you. There’s only one Todd, not two. Oh, god, not two.” And with that Marty Saybrooke fainted and fell to the floor.
Nuns and orderlies rushed into the dayroom, but not before Patient X stood over Marty’s limp form and cocked his head to one side as he gazed down at her. “Marty,” he sighed. The drugs made it hard to talk, but just as he felt the needle sink into his skin he said, “It’s you. It’s always you, isn’t it?”
I want: 1. To see just how the heck Todd escaped Victor Lords crypt 2. Real Todd to wipe the smirk off fake Todds face!! 3. Starr to see real Todd, call him Daddy and hug him and they both cry. 4. Jack to be recast with a kid that actually looks like RH & KDP (and has acting ability) 5. Viki to welcome Todd back with open arms! Love their scenes!! 6. Blair sees Todd from afar. Runs to him. Stares into his eyes. They kiss!!! Get remarried:)
Remember to keep the posts positive, it is all in fun! A good hint is to use the @symbol when directing a comment at a specific person who posted prior to you, if you choose.
The Return – Fantasy Scene
ReplyDeletePlace: The Dayroom at St Ann’s
Time: Early evening, one day early 2011
Marty was sitting by herself in a corner of the dayroom at St Ann’s. She was rolling a skein of yarn to knit a sweater for Hope. It was a repetitious act but she found that she enjoyed repetitious acts these days. As she wrapped the yarn into a more manageable ball, she tried to sort things out in her head. Separate the real from the unreal. She found that telling herself the true things over and over helped. There was a space in her head that wanted to get lost again, wanted to forget what she knew to be true and believe the lies. But she knew she couldn’t let it. If she did, she thought, she might not find her way out of the fog again.
“Not my baby. Not mine,” she whispered to herself over and over again. “No baby. Baby gone. All the babies are gone. Cole…gone. Nothing left now. Just me now, me alone. A curse?”
Suddenly, two nuns stepped into the doorway to get out of the way of some commotion in the corridor. Sister Temperance and Sister Constance, two novitiates, new to St Ann’s and Llanview. They didn’t notice Marty sitting alone in the corner.
“I don’t understand,” said Temperance. “Why would the diocese accept such a patient? We aren’t equipped. We don’t have a locked ward or the staff to support violent offenders.”
“Well, you know I don’t like to tell tales,” Constance responded, “So, promise you’ll keep this quiet as a tomb, okay?”
Marty instinctively settled further into her chair in the corner and tried to make herself part of the furnishings. She didn’t know what was happening, but Sister Connie’s conspiratorial tone frightened her. “Of course,” said Temperance, “ I’ll take it to heaven with me.”
Part 2:
ReplyDelete“Well,” Connie began, pausing each time another orderly flew past in the corridor, “I happened to be praying in the chapel just a little while ago when I heard Reverend Mother in the narthex with Father Timothy. They were speaking in hushed tones, but it was so quiet, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversation. I wasn’t eavesdropping, you understand. There was really nothing I could do but—“
“Yes, yes, but what did they say?” Temperance questioned impatiently.
“Well, it seems that someone pulled some strings at a very high level within the diocese to get this “criminal” admitted. Even Father Timothy didn’t seem to know who, but he was quite firm with Reverend Mother. ‘You WILL accept this patient,’ he told her. ‘You WILL remember your vows, Margaret Sue, and you WILL offer aid to this lost soul,’ he said.”
Temperance gasped. “Father Timothy used Reverend Mother’s given name? I can’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s true. And now he’s on his way, the new patient, and what’s more, no one seems to know HIS name, either. He’s just Patient X on all the documents. AND he’s apparently on some sort of drug cocktail the likes of which no one at this facility has ever been prescribed.”
“You don’t say!” Temperance gasped again, more loudly this time.
“Sshhh…keep your tongue Tempe,” Connie warned. Both looked carefully up and down the corridor to be sure no one had heard. When it seemed all was clear, Connie continued, “I was just folding towels in the infirmary, when I heard Sister Miriam say that she had never even heard of half the drugs this man is on, but the ones she had heard of were meant for patients who couldn’t be controlled. Do you know they’re actually moving all of the furniture out of the room he’ll be in and taking all of the glass out of his bathroom. He’ll not have more than a mattress on the floor when they’re done.”
“But why? Is he suicidal?”
“No, but apparently he’s been known to purposely injure himself in his attempts to escape. Sister Miriam said he must have an extremely high tolerance for pain given the list of self-inflicted injuries.”
“It’s unconscionable,” Sister Temperance whispered. “Why would a patient with such severe problems be sent to us? Our Lord surely does work in the most mysterious ways, Connie. The most mysterious ways.”
Part 3
ReplyDeleteSuddenly the Reverend Mother appeared at the end of the corridor. “You two. There. Lingering about the dayroom. Close that door and help Sister Clara move patients to the dining hall. Our new lamb is arriving and we don’t need any unexpected encounters with this one.”
The novices responded immediately and in unison. “Yes, Reverend Mother. Right away.” Temperance grabbed the dayroom door and began to pull it closed. Just before it closed completely, Marty heard Sister Constance sigh and say, “I don’t know about the Lord, Tempe, but someone wants that man in Llanview and they want it now.”
As soon as they were gone Marty felt herself exhale and draw a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it until she let herself breathe again. She felt a pain in the palm of her hand and realized she’d been clutching the ball of yarn so tightly that her fingers had gone straight through and dug into the skin of her palm. Why was she suddenly so afraid? She didn’t understand it. It was like the weight of an ancient curse had fallen over her like a funeral cloak.
Why am I here? I lost something. What did I lose? Something is missing? I have to find it, she thought. She felt the fog slipping into her head again. She dropped the ball of yarn and stood to exit the dayroom. She would go back to her own room and lie down for a while, put the lies to sleep. As she neared the dayroom door she heard more voices in the corridor. It was the Reverend Mother again.
“He can sit quietly in the dayroom while we finish readying his room. It won’t take much longer. We’ve had so little time to prepare. There’s just one exit and the windows in that room don’t open. All the other patients are in the dining hall. Mister…X…won’t be disturbed here. Please, this way.” The door swung open and Marty found herself face to face with…a ghost, she thought.
She stood, open-mouthed, staring at the specter before her. It couldn’t be. It was a trick of some sort. She knew him, but this couldn’t be him. Not anymore. Unless…was the other even real? As Mr. X advanced towards her, Marty began to slowly back away. She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t speak. She heard strange choking sounds coming from her throat, but the words wouldn’t seem to organize.
His hair was longish and tucked behind his ear on one side. His face was clean-shaven with just the hint of a five o’ clock shadow. He seemed…bigger…than the other one…more imposing, somehow. His hazel eyes were heavily lidded like he was drugged and there were dark circles underneath. But she knew those eyes and she could see that they knew her too.
It had been just seconds but it felt like an eternity when Marty finally was able to speak. “No. You’re not real,” she insisted, slowly shaking her head back and forth. “I know what’s true now. I know what’s real. You can’t trick me. You aren’t you.” She slowly retreated into the dayroom and shook her head at the improbability of it all. “Unless…there can’t be two of you. There’s only one Todd, not two. Oh, god, not two.” And with that Marty Saybrooke fainted and fell to the floor.
Nuns and orderlies rushed into the dayroom, but not before Patient X stood over Marty’s limp form and cocked his head to one side as he gazed down at her. “Marty,” he sighed. The drugs made it hard to talk, but just as he felt the needle sink into his skin he said, “It’s you. It’s always you, isn’t it?”
OMG. GORGEOUS STUFF!!! WOW! Great great great job. Love it. My sentiments, exactly. WHY IS IT ALWAYS YOU!??
ReplyDeleteI want:
ReplyDelete1. To see just how the heck Todd escaped Victor Lords crypt
2. Real Todd to wipe the smirk off fake Todds face!!
3. Starr to see real Todd, call him Daddy and hug him and they both cry.
4. Jack to be recast with a kid that actually looks like RH & KDP (and has acting ability)
5. Viki to welcome Todd back with open arms! Love their scenes!!
6. Blair sees Todd from afar. Runs to him. Stares into his eyes. They kiss!!! Get remarried:)
Omg I love all of yours.
ReplyDelete