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Fiction: To see is to believe part two
Water, water everywhere.
But there was no third visit to Doctor McMahon. On that stormy night in November, Annette dragged her child from her restless slumber and flung her into the backseat of the family’s green SUV. By the time the woman managed to haul the young girl into the general hospital, Claudia was hysterical “THE LADY, THE LADY! LISTEN TO HER! SHE WANTS WHAT’S BEST FOR US ALL! WE HAVE TO STOP THE WATER! THE WATER WILL KILL THEM! USE YOUR BEADS!” she screamed, lashing out at the staff who attempted to restrain her.
The blonde hair on her head was darkened from the rain clinging to her face, the red veins contrasting with the white of her bloodshot eyes that were as wide as saucers. Eventually two burley interns got hold of the girl. She kicked, clawed them with her nails, biting them until they forced her into a cream straight jacket, while a nurse whisked Mrs Newton away to a little office down the hall, the howls of her flesh and blood bouncing of the hard tiles of the floor.
A steaming white mug of sweet tea was pressed into her stiff hands. “Mrs Newton” a middle aged woman with a wispy grey bun and thick red lipstick began “We think Claudia might be ill…..it could just be a reaction from her body to the lack of sleep, but we’d like to keep her overnight just to be sure.” Across the building, Claudia had quietened down and focused her heavy pupils on the room. It was almost blinding. Tall, white unending walls; a white almost reflective floor and starchy bright bed linen. Then, her eyes fell upon a plump nurse in the corner with a tray.
She smiled and Claudia knew there was nothing to be scared of. “Now pet, you take these, they’ll stop those horrid dreams, love” but she only shook her head “I like them…..I see the most wonderful lady at night….” She mumbled quietly. The carer slowly put down the tray and stroked the teenagers check soothingly “Who is she?” she whispered. “My mother” Claudia breathed as she began to leave the harsh world of reality. A few hours later after another episode, the staff in dazzlingly white clothing stuffed the young girl so full of medication she couldn’t speak, move or even roll her eyes.
“Mrs. Newton, we believe your daughter has developed a serious mental condition. She’s very, very sick. You were right to bring her to us. She thinks she’s seeing figures that aren’t really there. She’s refusing to eat; we can’t even get some nourishment into her with a tube; she just keeps coughing it up. We think it would be best if Claudia held a more permanent residence here. We can provide her with the help she needs”. Annette bowed her head in shame. The feelings that swirled in her stomach were more like buffalos battering her insides than butterflies. She had never failed before.
As the weeks passed, the drip that pierced the smooth pale skin of Claudia’s hand was never empty, so she lay there paralysed, staring at the ceiling. It was like she wasn’t capable of finding the muscles to move her joints, her head, even her mouth. Her body didn’t belong to her any longer. Yes these drugs might shut her up, keep her in bed, and stop her from waking the whole ward, but the beloved journeys that took place behind her closed eyelids never ceased.
She wasn’t able to keep any food down anymore, and as the days passed she became a mere shadow of her once athletic healthy build. Annette had never come to visit. As the Christmas train once again pulled into the station for its annual stop, Claudia awoke to the kind nurse tacking up a beaded curtain around her bed. “Look Claudsie We got you some of the beads you like, pumpkin. How’s that sweetheart?” But the child just closed her eyes on the scene. She had given up.
On the 26th Of December 2004, Claudia slipped out the door of the mortal world and the catastrophe that was taking place on earth and stepped into a very different place. A place full of light. She stretched her entire body, stood on her tippy toes, arched her back, reached up her arms, flexing her fingers at the top. The sensation was glorious. She was slowly pulled to the bosom of a soft, warm female. Maternal hands rubbed her back, her neck, her shoulders comforting her. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t stop it, I…” “Shhh, you tried to tell them Claudia” she almost hummed; her voice was like honey, a melody in itself. “You tried to warn them, but they just don’t listen like they used to…..”
By: Soracha O’Rourke
