The Asylum Part 1

As we drove down the windy gravelled road, our tires kicking pebbles into the trees that towered over us like a canopy trying to hide what was to come, my stomach was in my throat. ‘It’s just for a few days!’ my mother kept saying. She was the epitome of silver linings. As the tree canopy lifted a massive, old grey building came into view. I saw that there were a lot of windows, most broken and all with bars on them. The building itself looked as if it should be condemned, and parts of it were. There were gaping holes in almost every wall. My heart sank. ‘Just a few days!’ my mother repeated even though I could tell she wanted to turn around and manage my safety at home…but she was my mother and she knew I needed to be in hospital. This ancient ruin, the place I would have to stay in until a bed became available in the private sector.

Mom stopped the car at a fork in the road. I thought she had changed her mind and was disappointed when she revealed that she was reading the sign that was so old that it had faded considerably. ‘I think I have to go right!’ she mumbled to herself. When she turned right there was another sign 100 meters from the last that was a tad more visible. It told us that we were on the right path. Another 100 meters passed before a newer, more lived in, building appeared.

The building was just as grey as the last, but there were no gaping holes and no broken windows. In fact, from the front, there were no windows whatsoever. Mom pulled into one of the many vacant spots in the small secluded car park and exited the black Volvo. She urged me to do the same, but I was reluctant. ‘Did I really need to be here?’ I asked myself. Then I looked down at my bandaged wrists as my mother wrapped on the window.

When I finally got out of the car, mom taking my bag from the boot, she linked arms with me and told me that she would hound the private sector so much that they will make a bed for me and reiterated that ‘it’s only for a few days!’ I rolled my eyes. My mother was the type of person who truly believed she would be treated better by others by either; hounding them until they got sick of her, or killing them with kindness.

I felt her pulling me towards the bleak looking entrance…nothing on the wall but a doorbell. She left down my bag and pushed the white round button on its black rectangular perch. We waited, and after pushing the bell numerous times, a man with a stern expression eventually opened the door. ‘What?’ he barked. I felt my mother’s grip on my arm tighten….my stomach felt as though a ten-ton weight was dropped in it. I swallowed hard as my mother explained that I was there for admission.

The man walked away, pointing to two chairs as he went and grunted, ‘wait there!’ And there we waited…and waited, until finally a middle-aged woman who reminded me of Ms Trunchbull from Matilda approached us. She wore a tight enough black skirt which had her white shirt tucked into it neatly and a belt holding them in place. ‘Kate?’ she said enunciating every syllable. I just nodded. She looked me up and down and her gaze began to focus on my wrists. ‘We’ll take her from here!’ she told my mother as the ignorant man who opened the door approached and took my bag. I could see tears starting to swell in my mother’s eyes and she choked as she told me once again, ‘it’s only for a few days!’…. then she was gone, leaving me on my own.

‘Come!’ the lady ordered, and I, as petrified as I was, followed. I was taken into the fourth door to the right…the dormitory. I could see rows and rows of four beds in a line that wander into the abyss. There must have been forty-eight beds in that one room. Each bed had a locker and a wardrobe. My hand instinctively went to the right front pocket of my tracksuit bottoms grabbing my phone. ‘All righ there love?’ someone asked and the kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach turned to stone. ‘Dorethy, were not in Kansas anymore,’ I told myself.

I was ushered towards the bed to the far right of the first row and told this was where I was to sleep. I was told, ‘breakfast is at eight, lunch at one and tea at five. You will be expected to be at every meal. You will get up at seven and, after breakfast, will spend your time in the activity room. Once lunch is over, we will open the garden and then after tea is visiting time. Are we to expect you will have visitors?’ Ms Trunchbull asked very formally. I was still on the part where I was expected to spend three hours in the garden. There was silence. ‘Well?’ she tapped her foot impatiently. ‘Yes,’ I answered not hearing the question.

Ms Trunchbull showed me around my new surroundings. First, she pointed towards the cage that lay behind my bed. ‘This is where you will get your medication!’ my head turned, horrified as all my worst nightmares were coming true. Then she pointed to the door opposite the cage, ‘this is the nurses desk. If you need anything, knock and they will be with you at their earliest convenience.’ I looked into the adjacent window and peered into the nurses office, they were all sitting around a TV in a semi-circle watching ‘Home and Away’. That didn’t bring me much comfort.

‘Now,’ the stern-faced woman looked me up and down again. She handed me a urine specimen cup and announced that she needed to do a pregnancy test before I could receive any medication. I joked that the only way I could be pregnant, was if there was an immaculate conception…she was not amused. My dry wit either went over her head, or, and this was more plausible, she had no sense of humour. I bowed my head took the clear bottle with a yellow top and asked where the bathroom was. She brought me out of the dorm and pointed to the first door on the left.

I walked into the bathroom and my nose scrunched up like a Pug’s from the smell. I looked around and was horrified. There were five stalls, each with a door that only went up as far as my waist. I opened the first door and gagged. It looked like a scene from ‘Slumdog Millionaire’. The second and third were no better. When I reached the fourth stall, I decided that I was going to use it regardless of the condition. To my surprise, it was a small bit better that the previous three. I squatted over the bowl, which had no seat, and relieved myself into the tiny jar and instinctively reached for toilet paper, but low and behold…. there was none. I left the stall and went to wash my hands. I felt lucky as there was a smidgen of soap remaining in the dispenser. I washed my hands like there was no tomorrow and brought my specimen out to Ms Trunchbull who was waiting for me outside the bathroom donning a pair of latex gloves. She snatched the bottle off me roughly and told me to make myself comfortable and that lunch was in an hour.

I walked over to my bed and caught three of my fellow patients scurrying through my bag. ‘What are you doing?’ I asked with fury. They scattered taking all of the treats my mother had packed for me to make my stay easier. I was just glad I had kept my phone in my pocket. It made me realise that this was the type of place where you had to sleep with everything under your pillow. I quickly remembered that my iPod was in the side pocket of the bag and rushed over to see if it was still there. Thank God it was. I placed it in the pocket with my phone and when I examined the bag further, I found a share sized packet of M&M’s lurking in it. ‘Thanks mom!’ I smiled and my eyes started to tear up. I began to place my ruffled-up clothes into the rickety old wardrobe, not wanting to show any weakness, and hid the M&M’s between two t-shirts.

‘Lunch time!’ someone yelled and everyone in the dorm hurriedly followed the next like ants towards the entrance. I watched, my stomach grumbling, and wondered where the dining room was situated. I made the executive decision of following the others. With my gaze firmly on the floor, I dawdled after the last person in the line.

As I walked into the dining room, I was bowled over at the unnatural silence…all I could hear was chewing. I looked up and saw that everyone else had a red plastic tray so I grabbed the last one from the rack. I put my tray on the three silver bars that others were sliding theirs along and was asked if I wanted soup. ‘What flavour is it?’ I asked. I got no answer. Instead a bowl of red goop was pushed onto my tray by a man who had sweat stains all over his shirt. I noticed as he roughly placed the soup on my tray that his thumb, which had a dirty band aid on it, entered the bowl. He put it in his mouth to lick what was my soup off of it. My nose once again scrunched up like a Pugs. Knowing the soup was then contaminated I moved down the line and a plate with mashed potato, cabbage and sliced bacon was placed beside the soup. The potato was lumpy, and I didn’t eat cabbage or bacon, so a lot rode on the third and final person in the line. A lump of orange jelly was placed beside the rest of the disappointing dinner. ‘Oh well,’ I said to myself, ‘at least there is jelly!’

My next task was to find somewhere to sit. To the right of the room there were those who were obviously psychotic as they were talking to themselves and were happy with that. In the middle row were what looked like the harder of the three tables. The occupants had copious tattoos and were all staring at me viciously. I really felt like fresh meat as they licked their teeth and smiled at me. They made me feel very uncomfortable. The third and final table was full of those with bandages over different parts of their arms. I looked down at my wrists and realised that that was the table I was supposed to be at. I slowly walked down the line of eyes that followed my every move. Finally, after reaching the end of the table I squeezed onto the bench as the person next to me reluctantly moved over a tad, giving me more room to squish my tray onto the table.

I had barely swallowed my first spoon of jelly, which tasted like feet when Ms Trunchbull announced that lunch time was over. I looked up and saw everyone grab their trays and clear their plates into one of the six bins and stack them on top of each other. I put another spoon of foot jelly onto my spoon, and just as I was about to eat it, I heard the petrifying woman yell my name. ‘Kate!’ she said with authority making the jelly fall back into the bowl. I followed what my peers had done and emptied my food into the bin placing my crockery on the top of the smallest pile. My stomach grumbled as Ms Trunchbull locked the dining hall and ordered me to follow her.

I noticed a room to the left of the dining room that was vacant. It had chairs lined up around the walls and it donned a sign saying visiting room. I longed to see my mother to beg her to take me out of this hell hole and wait for a bed in the private sector at home. I must have lingered in front of the window in the door, as ‘Kate!’ was screamed once more from the scariest lady I had ever encountered.