CHAPTER ONE
I spat an answer at the orange-haired nurse and slumped in the chair with my feet stacked on the
desk, flip-flops and all. “Claudia,” read the black plastic nametag too far down on the huge breast. Her
oversized body balanced on a rolling desk chair. She checked a series of little boxes and initialed the
appropriate blanks, pretending to be oblivious to my misery.
Even if I hid it, she knew I was scared. What kid wouldn’t be antsy on her first day at a mental
hospital?
I wasn’t sure which rankled worse: the three nights in jail, the morning in court, or the hour I’d spent
with this woman. Closed in the hospital’s intake room with her, I felt like a pitching machine fired
fastballs at me on high speed. “What’s your middle name?” “Your date of birth?” “Have you ever
contracted tuberculosis?” By the time Claudia coolly asked me about my last bowel movement and my
menstrual period, I itched to grab her clipboard and break it over her head.
“Time for a body search,” Claudia said almost cheerfully.
What? A chill ran down my spine. I backed away from her.
Claudia sighed and stood behind the desk. “You heard what I said, Carlena. Step behind the curtain
there and take off your clothes. A body search is required before you’re allowed on the unit.”
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. Losing my personal
privacy unnerved me more than I wanted her to know.
She pulled a gown printed with pink baby faces and yellow lambs from a drawer. She held it out to
me expectantly.
I smacked the gown away, making her let go. “One body search this week seems like enough. Forget
it.”
“Oh, get over yourself. Whether you like it or not, it’s happening.” Her ruddy cheeks couched her
eyes in fleshy folds as she spoke. “First, empty your pockets.”
I disliked giving in, just on principle. Once you started, you had a hard time stopping. But I had
nothing illegal, so I complied. I tossed four dollars and twelve cents on the desk with one hand. In the
other, I showed her a key ring, a tissue, my student ID and an old, broken hair barrette. She motioned for
me to deposit everything into a brown envelope.
“Cell phone? MP3?”
Seriously? I gave her a you've-got-to-be-kidding look. Like I had the money for that.
She shrugged. “Now the jewelry.”
I took my time taking out four earrings from each ear, grumbling about how I’d just put them all
back in. Claudia watched, expressionless. “Satisfied?”
She shook her head. “Not quite. The bracelet, it goes too.”
“No, ma’am.” I licked my lips. “I’ll keep the bracelet with me.”
“It’s jewelry. You can’t have jewelry on the unit. It causes all kinds of problems.”
My right hand wrapped around the handmade bracelet tied at my left wrist. I tilted my head slightly
to one side, but made no move to take it off. If this iceberg in scrubs had any idea how badly I wanted to
knock her on her butt, she’d be the one looking for a place to hide.
Without missing a beat, as if she expected my reaction, she body-checked me. I banged against the
desk and threw my hands out to keep from falling. Pressed between the desk and Claudia’s massive hip, I
froze long enough for her to draw bandage scissors and snip the bracelet. Just like that, she severed the
one personal item I cared about. The homemade bracelet dangled, cut apart at the center, never to be
mended.
My sister, Cheryl, had woven the strands the morning she left home. When she turned eighteen,
nearly two years ago, we spent the day together. I gave her a scarf; she gave me the bracelet. With long
nimble fingers, she braided the threads into two bracelets of fuchsia, violet, and powder blue. One she tied
to my wrist; the other I secured to hers. We clasped hands then, bracelets touching, and she promised to
come back for me when she could. The bracelet was all I had left of her.
The narrow braid, now faded shades of gray dotted with blood from the bandage underneath,
separated and splayed at the freshly cut ends. I grabbed wildly, not wanting to lose this tiny connection
with my sister. Claudia snatched it away and my nail scraped the edge of her hand.
“No!” I slammed my hands on the desk.
Claudia called to the nurses’ station. “Donna, I’m going to need some help in here.”
My arms tensed as I stalked around the room. From the built-in countertop, I grabbed a blood
pressure cuff and hurled it at the wall, but the puny clatter it made only infuriated me further. Snarling
like something in a zoo, I turned as three more nurses stepped into the small room. They looked like
actresses demonstrating facial expressions on cue: shock, dread, and disapproval. I realized, then, how
this must look. I pictured myself as a female Yosemite Sam, hunched forward with my six-gun in hand
and smoke puffing from flaring nostrils. There I stood, the twitchy challenger facing four cocky old bats.
They think you’re nuts. You are acting crazy. Stop it and get a hold of yourself. I concentrated hard
on slowing my breathing. You’ve got to be smart. Play the game or you’ll never get out of here. Claudia
pulled a syringe from a drawer.
“Is medication really necessary?” Donna asked. “She looks fairly calm to me.”
“Really? She’s already scratched me.” She showed Donna the back of her hand. “And look at her.
Just look at the body language.”
I couldn’t deny I stood ready to fight, but I never intended to attack anyone. She knew I scratched her
by accident. What a sneaky, two-faced biddy, setting me up to get in trouble. She’s the one who belonged
in this hospital. I just wanted them to leave me alone, but I couldn’t rip my gaze away from the syringe—
it would make me powerless. They could do anything they wanted. What would they do?
My legs spasmed, aching to escape. I locked my knees and squared my shoulders, standing still,
showing them I could control myself. No need to pump me with drugs. A head taller than Claudia, I sent a
benign look down at her. Just chill. I eyed the squat body blocking my path, and felt sure I could outrun
her. Still, I’d never make it past the others. “Look, I just came from jail. They never made me take off the
bracelet. Please, may I have it back? It’s important to me.”
Claudia shrugged. “Sorry. Different place, different rules.”
I must have missed the signal prompting them all to move at once. They trapped both my legs and
arms, swung me forward so I stared at the floor, leaving me disoriented. Four sets of hands and arms
lowered me unceremoniously to the cold tile, where the disinfectant smelled stronger.
When the initial shock passed, I struggled, and the more I grappled with them, the more my skin
burned under their grip. No longer refined ladies, they sneered and their breath nauseated me. This wasn’t
quite real. My mind went weird on me, distorting things, changing the soft lines of female cheeks to
square jaws and hungry eyes. I clenched my teeth and banished the frightening images. When their true
appearances came back into focus, I concentrated on relaxing my limbs.
Imagine you’re on a beach. Think about the waves and the sea breeze.
Claudia must have sensed me drawing inside myself, because I felt the prick of the needle in my
immobilized arm. She leaned close and said, “Now tell me again what you will and won’t do.”
Her lipstick-smeared mouth slid into a satisfied smile and fury shot through my brain like electricity.
I screeched like a maniac. I writhed and snarled until I didn’t have the strength to continue.
Close to my ear, Donna whispered. “You’re all right. Take it easy. Good girl.” She winked,
surprising me
The medicine eased the panic, and they lifted me, limp, onto the examining table. As I drifted away,
gentle hands turned me to one side and slipped my arm from the sleeve of my jacket. Claudia sat at the
desk watching the others undress me. She must see me as vulnerable and exposed, but she had it wrong if
she believed me defeated.