Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Tell me about the aliens heading for Earth, Torri,” Dr. Burrows said softly, steepling his fingers on his desk and leaning forward. “Do they tell you to do anything to yourself or others? Do they tell you to hurt yourself?”
My God, he thinks I’m a paranoid schizophrenic now, Torri thought dismally.
“It’s not like that,” she said in a low voice. “I’m not like…like Donnie.”
Donnie had been a patient on the Non-Violent wing when she had first come to St. Elizabeth’s. He spent most of the day crouching in the corner and muttering to himself about the “voices” and what they told him to do.
Eventually the voices had instructed Donnie to try and kill an orderly by jamming one of the plastic sporks from the cafeteria into her throat. He had been dragged off her, screaming and crying and transferred to the Violent Offenders wing. Torri hadn’t seen him since.
“Now, now, not everyone with delusions is violent,” Dr. Burrows said comfortingly. “But they can still be very difficult to live with. If you’d just take the medications I’ve prescribed to you—”
“No!” Torri said at once. She crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around herself tightly. “No—I don’t like the way those drugs make me feel! I don’t need them—I haven’t hurt myself or anyone else.”
She had been refusing the drugs almost from the beginning. She had only taken them once—on the first night—and that was enough to convince her she never wanted them again.
The pills Dr. Burrows had prescribed for her were supposed to stop the night terrors from happening. But they didn’t—all they did was make it impossible for Torri to wake up from the terrors when they came on. That first night, when she had obediently swallowed the little pink pill the nurse had handed her in the paper cup, she had been locked in mortal terror all night long. A never-ending loop of the AllFather coming for her and his huge black Fathership moving closer and closer to the unsuspecting Earth.
Of course despite her horrible night, she hadn’t woken up screaming—which was an improvement from Chuck’s point of view. Her husband had even offered to take her home with a bottle of the little pink pills, as long as she agreed to take one every night.
Torri had refused. Aside from making her entire night one, long, horrible nightmare she couldn’t get away from, the pills made her incredibly drowsy and confused the next day. She’d felt lobotomized until the medicine finally wore off—well into the afternoon. It was a frightening, vulnerable feeling—like someone had wrapped her brain in cotton so she couldn’t think properly.
Now she realized she should have promised to take the pills so she could have gone home—then she could have flushed them all down the toilet and she would have been free. But back at the beginning, she had thought that her husband really wanted what was best for her—so she had agreed to stay another week, to see if other forms of therapy would help.
Therapy hadn’t helped and so she kept screaming herself awake at night and falling into fugue states during her waking hours. It was an awful way to live, but at least she wasn’t trapped in a never-ending nightmare every night and she didn’t feel like a lobotomized zombie the next day.
“You know, we have allowed you to refuse your medications up until now, Torri,” Dr. Burrows said, frowning. “But there is such a thing as court-ordered medication. Did you know that?”
“What? But why would a court order anything for me?” Torri demanded. “I haven’t hurt anyone!”
“You hurt your husband—you stabbed him,” Dr. Burrows reminded her sternly. “He can bring charges against you any time he wants to for that incident. And then, if I get involved and explain to the judge that you’re not taking the medication I prescribed for you—”
“No!” Torri started backing away from his desk. “No, you can’t do that to me!”
“Torri, please—no one wants to do anything to you. We’re all here to help you.”
Dr. Burrows put on that meltingly sincere face again—the one that had so completely taken her in when she and Chuck had first come to St. Elizabeth’s.
Torri, however, was having none of it.
“Excuse me,” she said tightly. “But I think I’d like to go now.”
“But Torri, you’re suffering needlessly.” Dr. Burrows spread his hands. “If you’d just let me help you…”
“By drugging me into submission? I don’t think so.” Torri shook her head.
“But the delusions you’re suffering aren’t real—these dreams of aliens coming to take over the Earth and the evil alien overlord who torments you every night—with the right medication, they can all go away.”
“Along with half my brain and all of my willpower,” Torri snapped. “I said, no thank you. I prefer my night terrors and fugue states to being chemically lobotomized.”