“It tells me not to listen when I hear other people say mean things about me. It tells me to be strong, to prepare. That I am better than them. This last time it told me I wasn’t crazy, that she was with me.”
“Last time? Before the attack?”
“No, during my MRI. I was trying to remember what happened, and I was telling myself if people looked at me like I was crazy, maybe I am. She told me I wasn’t, but the pain was still there.” She unloaded everything she had been keeping back from her parents and friends; all her insecurities, her anger at the comments she would hear, the rejection she still felt over how she was abandoned. When she was done talking, hours must have passed because the doctor had filled up his notebook.
There was a knock at the door, and the orderly came in with a tray. Chicken nuggets, barbecue sauce, fries and a milk. “Sorry Doc, but the kitchen is closing, and she hasn’t eaten yet.” Her stomach growled, making her realize just how hungry she was.
“That’s fine, we need to stop for the night.” He got up and patted her hand. “We’ll talk more after you’ve gotten some sleep, all right Treasure?”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m not going home?”
He shook his head. “We need to keep you under observation, you hit your head pretty hard.” He looked at the orderly. “Let her eat, I don’t think we need the restraints tonight,” he said.
“Yes Doc,” the man said as they left her alone.
Alone with her thoughts, and the voice in her head.
Dawn was a wreck by the time the psychiatrist finally met with them at nearly ten o’clock that night. It had been five hours since they had seen their daughter, and the police had left after being assured she was being placed on psychiatric hold. “How is our baby,” Mark asked as he motioned them into his office and gestured for them to sit on the chairs.
“She’s resting,” he said. “We aren’t giving her any sedatives due to her head injury, but we are monitoring her on camera and checking on her every few hours.” Dawn started to cry, leaning into his arms. “I spent several hours with her, and her symptoms are classic. Did you know she has been having sudden-onset headaches accompanied by voices in her head for over a year now?”
Mark shook his head. “She never said anything about voices, but she did complain about migraines a few times.”
“I told her to lie down in a quiet room and quit drinking so much Mountain Dew,” Dawn said. “It was only a couple times, though.”
“The last few months have been far more frequent. The episodes seem to be triggered by teasing or bullying. The voice today told her to teach her respect right before she had her psychotic break. The violent outburst is rare, but the rest is textbook schizophrenia.” The doctor leaned forward, trying to comfort them. “Now that we know what we are dealing with, we can get her the help she needs. There have been many advances in treatment recently, and we can find the one that works best for her.”
“She’s a schizophrenic?”
“That is my diagnosis. What happened today was another episode, followed by a psychotic break. The violent outburst she had occurred while her mind was in a dissociative state. Her normal mind doesn’t remember a thing, it’s like another side took over. A violent side.”
“Oh Jesus,” Mark said. “Can it be cured?”
“We don’t talk about cures with this, we talk about control,” he said. “She needs to be monitored as we put her on a drug regimen that will help control the symptoms. She also needs intensive counseling, she has a lot of guilt right now and that has to be dealt with. I would like you to commit her for a seventy-two-hour psychiatric evaluation so we have time to start all this.”
Mark looked at his wife, who was desperate for her to get help as she was. “All right, we’ll sign,” he said. “Can we see her?”
“I’m afraid not. She’s already resting, and we don’t know what triggers might occur with your presence.” He slid over the form for Mark to sign. “It’s late, go home and get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow at five to update you on her progress.”
He led them to the door. “I need you to be strong for her, she’s going to be confused and there still is the criminal matter to contend with. Use this time to get a lawyer for her and let us give her the treatment she needs.”
“Thanks Doc,” Mark said as they shook hands before they walked out the door.
Back in the padded room, sleep would not come to Rea. The images of waking up on the soccer field as a bloodied Denise was loaded into the ambulance was constantly appearing in her head, and in between was only the shocked and horrified faces of her friends. It didn’t help that every hour a nurse would come in to take her vitals, monitoring for effects of her concussion.
She watched the door close as the nurse exited again, leaving her alone in a padded room in the psych ward. Nothing would ever be the same, she realized as tears ran down her face. No matter what she did or how sorry she was, people would always look at her with a mix of fear and disgust. Their faces haunted her, none more than seeing her best friend looking at her that way.
Even her parents must be regretting taking her in right now.
“It’s all your fault,” she told herself in her head. “There’s something wrong with me, that is why my parents abandoned me. They knew I would be a monster, that I was dangerous.”
She didn’t expect the voice to respond, but it did, and she bit back a scream as the pain split her brain in half. “You and I are one. Quit fighting me and let me help,” the voice implored.
“Never, I never want to hear you again,”she said before she started screaming in pain, screaming for help. The voice pushed for her to listen, and she pushed back even harder to shut it up. The battle caused the pain in her head to increase, and she struggled against it before the blackness came.
“Looks like observation three is in trouble,” the nurse said from her monitoring station at the main desk. Pressing an all-call button for the floor, the orderlies and available staff gathered around. They could hear the thumping against the padded door, and Doctor Thompson went to draw a sedative as they quickly went over the entry plan. Gathering outside the door, they waited until Rea had thrown her shoulder into the door before they opened it and rushed inside.