#staysaliive

She followed the voice with slight movement of her neck, her eyes landing on the old man in a white coat, dress shirt underneath, ugly shoes.... must be Doctor Douchebag, as Ted so lovingly calls his boss man. She groaned, bringing her hand up to her rub her temple, temporarily surprised that her arm was free to do so. She realized quickly that was sat in a wheelchair, two other patients on either side of her and more on either side of each of them. It was a circle of sweat pants and varying white tee shirts worn in different ways, probably to try to grasp at the remaining bits and scraps of personality they had left. Ash noted the sleeve of her oversized hoodie falling around her knuckles, something she hadn’t remembered putting on...then again, she didn’t remember getting out of bed either. She couldn’t remember how she even got out here or who put her in this chair to bring her to the therapy room. Without a word, she attempted to stand up, wanting to go back to her own room, but her legs had a different plan, giving out from under her and landing her back in the chair. The wheels must’ve been locked as she hadn’t rolled backwards with the fall, but it did scoot back a bit across the tile, jostling her enough to trigger a wave of nausea to compliment to already dizzying pain in her head. 

“I want to go back to my room.” she croaked from her dry throat. The doctor continued to smile in a way that made Ash super uneasy. It was strange, not a genuine kind smile, but an unnerving forced smile that he was programmed to use with patients and their families to reassure them that this place wasn’t absolute shit and they were ‘truly in the best care possible.’ The young woman was so used to fake smiles and forced cheer, she had to paint a fake smile on everyday at work, well, her former place of employment, but this man... his smile was off..not fake, just...weirdly off. 

He continued, “You can’t, my dear, it’s group time. And you are part of the group today.” The smile never leaving his wrinkled face as he spoke, only a tilt of the head while he moved forward. “You had quite the mischievous morning, I’ve been told. It makes sense that you’d be tired, a bit groggy, but you’ll come out of it soon. Ah, Ted, thank you.” He gestured to Ash’s least favorite pseudo nurse as he walked up with a large round tray of plastic cups that looked to be filled with different juices. “You didn’t seem to like your orange juice this morning, didn’t touch it at all, I hear. How about some apple juice instead?” She glared at Ted as he approached her with the tray, flashes of earlier cutting through and she wanted to flip the tray right up into his smug face. She couldn’t remember that morning, couldn’t remember what the doctor was talking about, but her memory did give tiny tidbits of familiarity as the large man walked closer with a tray. She wanted desperately to run back to her room, lock the door, and wait out her time in this facility full of lies. If only her stupid legs would budge. Her mind was so hazy, too, throat so dry she didn’t even fight the damn juice, taking the cup closest to her and guzzling half of it right there. Her stubbornness normally would’ve let her wait, but the pain was getting worse and the irritation of her throat caused her eyes to water, which caused her to blink more, which honestly made her migraine worse. So she just drank the apple juice - ignoring the doctor, ignoring the group, and waiting for this hour to pass. 

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“I’ll have to tell them, you know, if you’re uncooperative. If you don’t receive full treatment I cannot vouch for your sobriety and mental stability.” The old man said, a more serious look was planted on his face now, though the softest hint of that creepy smile was still waiting its turn to come back out. “The police expect updates, young lady, updates that you’re improving, willing to be helped. What do you expect me to tell them about your little quarrel with my staff this morning? Fighting with my staff is not a productive use of anyone’s time, Miss Collinson, I assure you things will go much more smoothly for everyone involved if you just---” 

This time she interrupted his thought mid sentence. “--if I just let your people force drugs on me that I don’t want? If I just go along with your asinine rule book? If I eat your shitty food and take your shitty meds and maybe then possibly stay out of jail on your word?” She snarled, looking away from him, sick of the look on his face. “All I had to do was get clean. My deal is mine with the cops. You don’t get a say.” 

The man sighed, although it was hollow, as if just for show. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. I do, in fact, have the final say in your freedom, young lady. It is at my hands that you are let out of here a free woman or a convict. The past two weeks have shown me that you may just prefer the latter with your behavior. Is that what you’d like me to tell them in my progress reports? That you’re uncooperative with treatment and with staff? That surely won’t help your standing with them. Nor with us.” 

“What is that, a threat? Are you threatening me, doctor?” She asked, turning her head back to him, begrudgingly. “Not real professional, for your line of work, seems a little unethical, and whatnot. I know real threats, doc. The guy I worked for made good on his and got away with it for years and years....you have red medical tape and an oath to uphold, right? Your threats are shit. Just like your staff.” 

The man took a deep breath in through his nose, pushing his fingertips together in front of his chin. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Miss Collinson. Darla will take you back to your room now while I think about what to put in this report. I’ll have to tell that officer that you’re not quite up to visitors today. A shame, he seems to think you’ve been making such progress, I’ll hate to have to tell him otherwise when he arrives.” 

“You arrogant sonofab---” Her chair was turned around before she could finish her sentence, presumably by Darla, thankfully one of the only staff members Ash actually liked. But who knows, she could be just as fake as the rest of them for all Ash knew. The nurse leaned down to speak softly in her ear as she wheeled her back to her room, “He’s mostly talk when he’s in this mood, doesn’t like when his boys can’t handle the job. Don’t worry about him, I’ll make sure the cop man gets in to see you himself. You’re doin’ just fine here, baby. Just fine.” Darla was older than Ash, a little older than the stupid brute twins, but younger than other staff members she didn’t know as well. She was sweet from the time Ash had arrived, or at least faked it really well, but it seemed like she actually cared about the people here, as opposed to the drug riddled nuisances the others acted like they were. If she wasn’t faking it, she definitely deserved a better job somewhere far way from these jerks.  Ash looked up at her as she closed the door behind them. “Thanks, D.” She even smiled a little at the older woman, even if she was as fake as the others, it hadn’t faltered just yet and for the moment, she was still being kind. She respected her for that. “Do y-- do you know...what they gave me this morning? I feel worse, I...my legs feel like lead bricks. That doesn’t happen on the other stuff, the usual medley of, y’know..meds.” Darla looked genuinely concerned at that. “Did you tell the doctor about your legs? That’s not a usual side effect of the detox medication. It’s really just supposed to suppress nausea, ease aches and pains, stuff like that.” 

Ash shook her head. “This stuff makes me feel like shit, D, and today its worse. I..I don’t even know what day it is. I know time moves differently when you’re in a place like this but I usually know what day it is... I can barely move, I’m so tired and my head...my head’s been killin’ me all day and I can’t remember getting up this morning. And my legs...” 

“Sounds like you’re havin’ a really bad day, honey. I can see if I can get you a different dose tomorrow, or a different pill maybe. Right now,” she helped the young woman up into her bed, lifting her legs for her and covering her with a freshly laundered blanket. “you drink a lot of water, I’m gonna leave this pitcher right here on your table here, okay? A lot of water and get some sleep. You do look exhausted. I’ll send that cop that likes to visit you up later when he stops by with a little bit of caffeine for ya.” Darla smiled and it sent a wave of relief over her, a real genuine, albeit sympathetic smile on the woman’s lips. Ash was seriously grateful for her in that moment, for the promise of future caffeine but mostly her kindness. It was a blessing, to say the least. She even wanted to hug her, but refrained, if she was faking it, she wasn’t gonna put that much trust in letting her get a clear opening to her back and neck. For now, she just thanked her again, turning onto her side and within minutes, fell back to sleep. 

The staff member denied her request for darkness, walking towards her with a tray holding the familiar little plastic cup of pills sat beside a plate of plain toast, dry scrambled eggs, and 2 bigger plastic cups, one half filled with apple juice and one with water. She’d have rolled her eyes if her head didn’t hurt so much. It seemed counterintuitive really, giving the drug addict more drugs to detox off the original drugs. Only in America, probably. Seemed like a very America thing to instill. They claim its for comfort during the detoxification process but to her, it seemed like just another insurance scam because they sure as fuck weren’t helping her feel better the past few days. The nausea wasn’t better, the headaches weren’t duller, her fluctuating temperature and chills did not get less painful so in her humble opinion, the doctors here long with their oh-so-caring staff could take these pills and suppository them right up their--- 

“Morning medicine time, c’mon. I cant leave till you shove these down your throat or I do.” His voice once again sliced into he skull right through her last thought, resulting in an extremely pointed glare from the young woman. “Be my guest. Your throat seems to need them more than mine does.” She shot back, well aware that his threat was aimed at her but it wasn’t in her to let anyone who thought hair gel was meant to be seen as a top layer boss her around. 

He shoved the pills closer to her rather violently, as if to strengthen the threat. “You wanna go to jail? We all know you’re in here to keep outta the big house, girl, so do yourself the favor and just take the damn meds.” 

“If I want to detox dry, I can.” She pushed the cup back in his direction before crossing her arms. “They said I gotta detox, they didn’t say I have to take any of your bullshit. Or your pills.” 

The man she came to know as Ted, although endearingly preferred to call him dick head (it did rhyme after all, just a moniker to help remember his name, really), was clearly getting impatient at this point. He pulled a syringe from his pocket and grabbed her arm roughly. “Hey!” she yelled, yanking her arm as hard as she could to release his grasp but he only tightened it. “Let go of me! What the fuck!? Let me go, you big fucking oaf, get the fuck off o’ me!” She kept writhing and tugging her limb in hopes to get free but the more she struggled the harder he gripped around her upper arm. He said something about making him strap her down and something else about it hurting more if she struggled but he didn’t say what was inside the syringe in his opposite hand. She kept making a scene hoping to catch the attention of someone outside the door and to her relief, the doorknob lowered and another staff member, Pete, rushed in. “Oh my God, please, help me, he’s fuckin’ crazy, please, get this asshole off me, he’s n---” The relief however, was short lived when Pete asked what was happening and instead of helping Ash, he too came to hold her down. “What the fuck are you doing?” She screamed at Pete, now strapping her other arm down at her bedside and moving to strap her legs down. Ash wasn’t a weak girl by any means, but these two grown men tag teaming her while she was in a weakened state was clearly an unfair fight. 

“What are you waiting for?” Pete spat to Ted in a hushed, urgent sounding tone.  Ted grimaced as he strapped her left arm down, tighter than the other restraints were drawn, and pointed to her pill cup with the needle. “She wouldn’t take her damn meds. She’s supposed to take the meds first.” “Well make her take them then. What, ya got a crush on this one? Going soft on us?” Ted snorted, pulling the strap harder, tightening the already too tight restraint on her left wrist and she winced as her skin pinched as it twisted and her bones felt like they were in a vice.

“I’m not gettin’ into shit from Doctor Douchebag because the ratios are wrong and the whole thing gets fucked. The meds are supposed to be first.” He stressed again, pointing to the untaken pills on the tray once more. “Jesus Christ,” Pete shook his head, frustrated and moved back up towards her face and picked up the small cup with almost too much of that frustration as they almost flew out of it and onto the bed and floor.  “Nice job, dumbass.”  “Shut the fuck up!” Pete, who usually had a calmer demeanor than Ted, which she now realized was obviously an act or he truly had the shortest fuse known to man, repositioned himself so he could grab her jaw and keep it in place as she turned her head violently away from him until he grabbed a fistful of her hair at the base of her neck and wrenched backwards. She hissed at the pain, trying to keep her mouth shut as the plastic cup was being shoved at her lips. Pete kept pushing the cup at her mouth, muttering angry words until Ted grabbed her face, pushing his thumb and index fingers into opposite cheeks, prying her teeth open from the outside like trying to give an animal a pill who wouldn’t unclench its jaw. He finally got her mouth open just enough for Pete to throw the pills in. 

Three differently shaped pills of varying sizes spilled across her tongue, playing a disgusting tasting game of tag as she tried to spit them out or at least hide them in her cheeks or under her tongue until Pete, the stupid jerk, also poured the water into her mouth, giving her no choice but to swallow or essentially choke to death on both as her head was still pulled backwards leaving the pills and liquid nowhere to go but down. She coughed violently as it all made its way roughly down her throat, it felt like all three pills rolled oddly down her trachea threatening to get stuck at the odd angle she was being held in. When Pete finally let go, she threw herself forward, still strapped to her bed, gasping for breath and choking on the awkward liquid, air, and pills. She wanted so badly to throw up or rub her throat at least, or even just her scalp where his fingers clutched her hair so tightly she was sure he took a few strands with him. 

“You’re both sick bastards,” she muttered through heavy breaths, still fighting against the restraints as best she could but her headache had easily turned into a full blown migraine at this point and the movement was agonizing. Ted took this moment to stab her bicep with the mystery needle and almost immediately the room was no longer still and the two men, who she could realistically presume were not swaying at the foot of her bed, were definitely swaying as he head and eyelids became heavier and heavier until the moving wavy room just turned black. The two staff members waited until they were sure she was out, although didn’t bother undoing her restraints as Ted shoved the used syringe back into his pocket and the men took their leave, quietly bickering on their way out.