Jillian learns to keep her mouth shut.
Lights lit up the hallways and rooms of the asylum, causing Jillian to shut her eyes tightly in order to protect them from the sudden brightness that seemed to be coming from Heaven above. Even though everything could be seen now, it still felt as dark as it did before. The sounds of tapping shoes could be heard outside her room. She was wondering if today she'd be able to call her family—if she'd be able to hear her mother's sweet soft voice of honey. If she could only tell her she missed her so, she might try to get better—to come home... home, the word was bittersweet. For some reason she didn’t believe she'd ever be there again. It already felt like she had been away for years. Years she couldn’t put memories to.
The lock to her door clicked and the door itself creaked upon opening. A small brunette woman stood there with keys swinging and chiming as if to hypnotize Jillian into coming with her.
"Ms. Johns would you please come with me?" she said giving a light and nervous smile.
"I-I... will I get to call my family today? I miss my mother..." Jillian asked shaking on her bed with her knees pulled to her chest.
The lady lowered her head in dismay, and Jillian, knowing what that meant, let a tear fall from her eye. She slowly found her feet and complied. There wasn’t a need to fight the lady. She knew she wouldn’t get anywhere that way. The only thing that would win her in the end would be obedience by force, and no one enjoyed that.
The halls were filled with women. Women of all kinds. Some of them young, some of them old, some of them sick, and some of them well. Nuns were also present, and they stood out very much, being the only women dressed in black. The one that stood out to Jillian the most, however, was an old lady with grey messy short hair. She was mumbling something under her breath as she watched the tiled floor every step of the way. She was hunched over in a very uncomfortable looking manner. It was almost as if she couldn’t look up from the floor. To her right was another woman. This one was younger, and she wouldn’t stop feeling her belly. It was as if she thought she was pregnant. Her long blonde hair swayed with every step as she hummed a sweet tune ignoring the staff member that was glaring at her.
The hall ended and in front of it was another locked door. A guard pulled out his pair of keys and turned them in the lock opening it. Everyone was brought into a dirty lounge area. There were a few tables, chairs, and couches spread out through the whole room except the center which led to another locked door.
"Alright, ladies. Please, be on your best behavior. We wouldn’t want to call the guards on you," a nun warned with a smile. She turned and left locking the door behind her.
"Bitch," a woman called the nun under her breath, but loudly enough for another to hear.
The other younger troubled woman laughed at the profanity, and rocked back and forth in her chair continuing to giggle till the echoes died out into a bitter silence no one seemed to enjoy.
"Might as well get comfortable," a middle-aged woman in what seemed to be her thirties said as she reached for the pack of cigarettes on the scratched wood table. She asked for it to be lighted, and a nun reluctantly did so for her.
"Some music?" the same nun asked but answered for them turning on a record of classical music.
A few people perked up, but the majority of them looked disinterested finding either somewhere to sit or something to do. Jillian already feeling like a social outcast, sat down by herself. Her right leg bounced up and down in a way that almost looked like she was cold, but it was a nervous twitch she had all her life. She looked around the room multiple times, and got caught a few times staring at the people who had obvious problems with them.
"What's your story, sweet?" the smoking woman asked sitting down next to her on the couch.
Jillian looked at her then her cigarette and opened her mouth to speak, but the woman grabbed her arm noticing her self-harm scars.
"So you tried to killed herself. Pfff... what a waste. The nuns will jump on you for that one if they haven't already 'God loves you, a life is only his to take,'" she imitated, "what a load of BS. If God existed, I wouldn’t be here now would I? Ya know that's another thing I don’t get..." she continued but stopped to take another puff of her cigarette, "if God's supposed to be all loving and shit, why the hell did he put these bitches in charge?" she asked gesturing to the nuns."They're the most hypocritical people I've ever met. There's not a forgiving bone in their bodies... you don’t talk much, sweet. What's the deal with that? I don’t like people who can't hold their own in a conversation."
"I... well... why are you here?" Jillian asked looking up at the woman who was now blowing the smoke out of her nose to keep herself amused.
"I was caught looking at a woman the wrong way by my loving husband. He threw me in here and never looked back. He's probably having the time of his life gambling my hard earned savings away, and going off on his honeymoon with my sister. Never should've trusted that sleazebag."
"I'm so--"
"Don’t start. I don’t need the sympathy. If I knew he was going to throw me in here, I would've killed the bastard before he could get another word past his lying lips."
"So are you then?"
"What?"
"Into women? I mean I'm not I'm... j--"
"Honey, living with a man like mine would make you look elsewhere as well," she furrowed her eyebrows and took another long puff from her cigarette.
Jillian watched her till she got an uncanny glance back then stared at the floor. She heard the sounds of the piano keys on the record player fading out as she fell into one of her deep moments of thought. Everything else was blurred even the smell of smoke as she slipped into the dark corners of her mind.
Why am I here? I didn’t do anything wrong... I hate father for putting me in here! I'm sure he did it. Mother wouldn’t have put me here. She loves me. I wonder if she's thinking about me now or if she's glad I'm here. We were so close. She was my only friend in all the world, yet so easily taken away from me like I never even had her in the first place. Oh, I hate you father so much. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she screamed aloud forgetting to contain her emotions. The music stopped on the record player, and everyone stared at her with mixed expressions on their faces. The old woman who was hunched over looked up for the first time, cocked her head, and clapped. One of the nuns whose hair was gray and wore a large tarnished cross came up to her and snatched her tightly by the arm squeezing tighter and tighter.
"It seems as though you've forgotten the rules... no shouting!" she whispered till the last part.
The nun took upon her face a sinister form—like the devil himself. Her nostrils were flared, and her eyes felt like they were piercing through her soul. Black. Cold. Cruel. Her ever tightening grip felt like it was going to cut off the circulation to her arm, or leave the imprint of her palm on it for days. Not knowing what to say to make amends, Jillian uttered what comes naturally to everyone when they've done something terribly wrong.
"I'm so--"
"You will be once I'm through with you," she said walking down the middle of the room and pulling her to the locked door at the end of it, "Open it, " she demanded.
The guard gave a somewhat worried look, but did so in haste to not anger her further.
"Squirm and you'll grant yourself more lashes than I was originally planning," she hissed looking Jillian dead in the eyes.
When they walked off, the door creaked on its hinges shutting behind them and clicking shut.
"Poor bitch," the smoking woman said turning away while letting more toxic fumes fill the air that now felt significantly colder.
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