I've always hated being compared to other people. My parents would say, "why can't you be more like your brother? He's so kind-hearted, so compassionate, such a hard worker..." blah, blah, blah. It really aggravated them when I wound up in here. The Pennview Sanatorium. A wretched, staining, unwelcoming place to those who dare not enter it. But for me... for me this is home. It has been my home for a year and a half. Ever since Karma was found guilty of the murder of Lucy Marshal, my best friend. I guess you could say I had a mental break-down. But I called it a healthy coating of mental clarity. I hated the world and everyone left in it. My best friend was dead, and I wanted to join her. So, when my parents found me passed out in a bloody bathtub, they called an ambulance, and then I was put on a 72-hour psych hold at the hospital. When I came to, I decided not to talk, to not look anyone in the eye, and fight anyone who touched me.
Then about three days later, I wound up here. With a smile on my face. I finally felt free. Free at last! No more secrets, no more lies, no more fake people, fake friends, and fake relationships. I felt relief that I didn't have to put on a mask everyday of my godforsaken life. I was free until... detective Cole.
I was sitting in the dayroom when my doctor tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I could join him on a walk. Dr. Miller was always my favorite person here. He has an old British accent, silver hair, a white beard, and silver rimmed glasses. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was Santa Clause in disguise as a doctor at Pennview Sanatorium, renamed Pennview Manor.
We walked through the hallway out of the activity center, and he told me there was a man here that needed to speak with me. "His name is detective Cole. He is here to ask your statement in the Lucy Marshal investigation."
I didn't quite understand that. Lucy's case was over, buried, and done two years ago. She was dead. "I don't understand?" I stopped walking, and doctor Miller stopped a few feet in front of me.
"There have been some developments. Some new evidence. I told him that I wanted to speak with you first to prepare you. And to ask you if you felt up to discussing this with him. However, it is a federal investigation, and I feel it is important that you cooperate."
My mind was racing. I couldn't seem to focus my attention. The room started spinning. My face felt hot, and the next thing I knew, I was laying in a cold shower with orderlies surrounding me. One with a cup of orange juice, one with a towel, one with a snickers candybar, and Dr. Miller checking my eyes with his bright light.
"You passed out, Samantha. Are you feeling okay?" He asked me with a concerned look on his face.
I felt weird, almost like I was having an out of body experience. "I'm fine I think. I just got a little dizzy. How long was I out?"
"Quite a few minutes. Here." He shut the water off, and gestured for the other orderlies to give me the supplies in their hands. I took the towel and dried off, took a bite of the snickers bar and swallowed my medicine with the orange juice. "Let's get you to your room." He helped me up, and walked me back to my room.
He sat in the rocking chair in the corner for a while just to keep an eye on me. I sat in my bed, thinking about what we were talking about before I passed out like a chicken. "So, you think it's a good idea for me to talk with the detective?"
Dr. Miller looked up at me through his bifocal glasses. "Hmmm." He said. As if he had to think it over since the last time it got brought up, I passed out on him. "Given recent events..." he raised his eyebrows at me, "I will leave that decision completely up to you." He looked back down at his book.
I mulled it over for a bit. It was my decision. I think that's why I loved this place, they didn't pressure anyone to do anything they didn't feel comfortable doing. They didn't want us to do anything that might trigger a mental break. "I think I'm okay with it. But I am a little nervous."
"Well, we could have a supervised visit with the detective to make sure he doesn't ask anything that may trigger you emotionally."
"I think no matter what he asked, it would trigger me emotionally. I mean, I'm in here because of Lucy!"
"No, Sam. You are here because you needed help when no one else could give it to you. You are here because you are strong and realized that life is still worth living."
That's why I loved Dr. Miller. He may be old, but he is caring and compassionate. He's also very understanding and empathetic towards his patients. I feel like mental institutions have such a bad rap, but Dr. Miller makes those stereotypes false. Don't get me wrong, there are some crazy orderlies in here, but Dr. Miller is a one-of-a-kind human being. I smiled at him and said, "Thanks, but I think I need to do this by myself. I don't think that having a supervised visit will make matters any easier. I think it will make it worse, if I'm completely honest."
Dr. Miller looked at me and smiled. "Look how far you've come in the last year, Samantha. You're like a brand new girl. I am so proud of you." He stood up out of the walking chair, came over to me, and gave me a side-hug.
I accepted the hug and told him he could leave now. I felt better after having that talk with him. I know that having this talk with detective Cole will bring up some memories that I stashed away for a dark and rainy day. But maybe some good will come out of it too. No matter what Dr. Miller says, Lucy is the reason why I'm in here in the first place. Maybe detective Cole can be a reason why I leave.