Part 7 (1/2)
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I nodded and stared out of the one window behind Dr. Cuvo.
”Maybe you're right,” I said as I thought about it. His point was valid. I hadn't bothered to think of the situation the way he had described it.
”How are your wrists?” Dr. Cuvo asked.
I shrugged.
”They are okay. I keep them wrapped up. Is a doctor coming to look at the st.i.tches?”
Dr. Cuvo nodded.
”There should be a nurse coming today to take your blood for tests. The nurse should help you get cleaned up so that you don't get your st.i.tches wet. It will be like when you were in the main hospital.”
I sighed in relief. I'd been almost embarra.s.sed to ask.
”I talked to your mother, Kristen,” Dr. Cuvo said.
”Is she coming here today?” I asked.
”No, you can't have any visitors while you are at Level One. At any rate, while I was talking to your mother, she told me that she was going through your knife collection.”
”What was she doing with my knives?” I asked.
”What were you doing with your knives, Kristen?”
”I collected them.”
”What else?”
He was looking at my arms. There were old scars from my cutting. I pulled down my sleeves, and kept my gaze towards the window. I didn't feel as trapped when I did that.
”I already know, even if you don't want to tell me.” He was still staring at me, but I wasn't staring back.
”She told me about how she'd had problems with you cutting yourself with those knives. Do you want to tell me about the knives, Kristen?”
I didn't say a word. I kept looking out of the window. I was trying hard not to break. She hadn't told him everything. I was sure she hadn't told him the truth behind it all. She was putting it all on me, like she always did. It was easy for Mom to do it that way. Make it twist and turn until it fit the way she wanted it to fit. My mind started racing as the temperature in the room dropped. I wandered off as Dr. Cuvo spoke about the knives. I didn't want to hear him. So, I let myself drift off.
I leaned down, not really sure what it was at the bottom of the tub. I reached in and pulled it out of the drain. Whatever was in that drain was causing it to stop up. When I got it out, I examined its plastic texture and rubbery feel. When I realized what it was, I felt myself gag, and I quickly threw the condom into the toilet. Mom suddenly appeared at the bathroom door, and she stared at me as I stared into the toilet.
”What's wrong?” she asked.
I had been busy cleaning up the bathroom, and trying to get my ch.o.r.es done before she and Jack got home, that I didn't even realize the time. Nick and Alison were in their bedrooms. Mom was now standing next to me, staring into the toilet too.
”Where did you get that?” Mom had fear in her voice.
I put my hands up as if I were under arrest. She looked at the large, yellow, cleaning gloves on my hands.
”It's not mine, Mom,” I said. ”I was cleaning the bathroom, and I found it in the drain. It was stopping up the tub.” Mom looked into the toilet and I watched as her face flushed white.
”Mom, you and Dad haven't taken a shower together in a really long time,” I said. ”But he and-”
”Shut up.” Her voice scared me. It didn't sound like her.
”Huh?”
”I said shut up, Kristen!” she was yelling at me now. She leaned over and quickly flushed the toilet. ”Don't come at me with this mess. I am tired. I just got home from work. I can't deal with this right now. What are you trying to do to us?”
I swallowed all the pain that was in my chest and in my throat.
”Mom, I wasn't trying to do anything. I just was saying that I found this in the tub. Jack, he's been-”
”Since when is he Jack?” she asked.
”I mean, Dad's been-”
”You know what, Kristen? I don't want to hear any more of this. Just leave me alone and let me get some rest before your brother and sister realize that I am home, and what little bit is left of my sanity is gone. You really know how to cross that line with me, don't you? You really make things hard on us. Just stay away from me for the rest of the night. I don't want to see your face.”
Her words echoed in my head. The feeling that I had gotten so much. That pain that seemed to linger in me wouldn't go away. It was like metal had begun to form in my chest and take the form of a ball. The ball stayed there, and slowly, had begun to turn.
All of this would have been done and over with. I wouldn't have had to remember these things or feel these things if I had just been able to die. Tears started falling from my eyes. I was crying so hard, I could hardly breathe. Mr. Sharp couldn't appear. The talk about knives made him want to come out.
I started screaming, ”Stop it! Stop it!” I kept hitting myself in the head as hard as I could while I was screaming. I wanted the thoughts to get out! They had to stop!
Dr. Cuvo grabbed my arms. He was trying to stop me.
”Kristen! What's going on? What is happening? Talk to me, and stop hitting yourself.”
I slapped myself in the face, hard. I wouldn't stop slapping until I felt numb. Dr. Cuvo got a tight grip on both of my wrists. He squeezed them. I screamed out in pain as the pain and pressure I felt went through my wrists and out the other sides. The pain that I was feeling inside made it almost unbearable. It made me stop fighting. I looked up at Dr. Cuvo.
His face was the color of a beet. His eyes were huge, and I could tell that he was holding his breath. His large, deep eyes were staring right at me. The compa.s.sionate look on his face stung me deeply.
”Stop it,” I cried softly to him.
He slowly turned my wrists loose from his tight grip, but he stayed close to me. His eyes still stared into mine.
”I'm trying to make it stop. I want to make it stop, Kristen. Please, you have to help me.”
”I don't know how!” I cried to him.
”Let me help you,” Dr. Cuvo said.
I couldn't say anything. The pain from the metal ball in my chest made it hurt too much to speak. Dr. Cuvo let me cry. I cried until I felt numb again. When I felt numb, I wiped my eyes, sat back, and looked back out the window. Dr. Cuvo said that he wasn't going to make me talk to him. He could see that I was upset. I didn't want to say anything. I was in the perfect place. I was in the place that Mr. Sharp would let me go when I had my knives, or my silver b.u.t.terfly, with its sharp wings.
Dr. Cuvo ended my session by telling me that he wanted to start me on a medication called Risperdol. He told me that it would help me get to sleep at night, and it should help me with my worries that the kids in here were against me. I nodded, but I wasn't really listening. I stared out of the window, imagining I wasn't here. I imagined that I was resting somewhere where my ashes would have been scattered or buried in the earth.
CHAPTER 9.