Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

It just seemed to make the nurses' jobs so easy.

I turned back around. “They can’t keep us cooped up for so long?”

He shook his head, “It’s not their fault. It’s just the economy. There’s no money.” He stared at the wall, like he was trying to convince himself.

I swallowed down a mouthful. I looked towards Nina again. “Is she okay?” I asked. “That girl by the window?”

He followed my eyes. Her right arm kept coming up mechanically, like a puppet, a new chicken nugget in her hand each time. “No, I woon’t say she’s okay. She don’t talk much. Never as. Sits there near nuff’ every day. The staff keep trying different stuff to elp, but ah think what she went through was pretty traumatic. She ant responded much.”

I toyed with my food. “What did she go through?”

“I don’t know. Some sort of sexual abuse. She din’t come to be that way by erself anyway. Ah know. Ah can tell.”

“It’s a right shame,” he continued, seeming glad to be talking about someone else, “Av tried talkin’ to her, but she’s in er own little world most it’ time.”

“How longs’ she been in here?”

“Well, fore me, and av been ere eight months, so am not sure.”

I poked my fork into the steak pie and the grease oozed out the sides. I felt sick. But I knew I had to keep my energy up. I didn’t even know for sure when the next meal was going to be.

Sandy picked up the conversation again. “She’s int’ room next to me actually. Looks young for eighteen, din’t she? She-” but he was cut off mid-sentence as his mouth stretched wide-open and he let out a loud yawn. He lifted a hand to cover it, and when he opened his squeezed eyes again, the sparkle in his pupils had vanished and he looked at me blankly.

I waited patiently, as he zoned in on the wall, “You were saying? About Nina?”

But it was like he’d had some sort of small epileptic fit. He turned his head towards me but didn’t know who I was or how I’d got there. He stared down in bafflement at his plate, then at the people around him. Then it slowly seemed to dawn on him, and he turned back to face me again.

He raised his white eyebrows to push his eyes open. “Sorry,..Aisha. What were it you were saying?”

“Are you okay?”

He pushed his fingers into his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Alt-zeimers moment.”

“You have Alzheimer’s?!” He was only in his forties.

“No. Figure it’ speech.” he smiled. “It’s just what ah call these moments ah have.”

“Do you get them a lot?”

“Now and again. It’s fine. Just the meds- but ah’d rather ave them than the anxiety.”

A couple of patients put their empty trays on the stack and headed out into the hall. One of the guys at our table was slobbering into his food. Another guy was crushing up bread in the palm of his hand. I moved closer to Sandy. “When did you last have your meds?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me, then around the table, as if he was considering the question,

“I just got them there, fore’ I sat down. Ah get mines twice a day.” he said.

Shit, I thought. I snapped my head round to the staff again. They were still chatting away, like they had been for the last ten minutes.

 “Do you think I’ll get a second dose too?”

“I dunno. You’ll have t’ ask. But if you din’t get out’ with yer dinner then probably not.”

I let myself exhale again. What could I do about it anyway? “What meds are you on?” I asked.

“I can’t remember the name.”

“Do you know anything about benzodiazepine?”

He rolled his pupils up thoughtfully, the full red veins showing in the whites of his eyes.

“No, sorry. Don’t think I av.”

“That’s okay. It’s just that I’ve just got here and they're trying to force me to take them. This morning they gave me an injection. I was totally out of it, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this but, a bit like you are now.”

He smiled. I couldn’t tell if he thought it was funny or if it was just to show that he hadn’t taken offence.

“And it’s still just wearing off, I still feel a bit lethargic. I don’t even know what they are. I don’t need them. I don’t-”

“But it will elp.” He said firmly, and from the look he was giving me it seemed pointless to argue with him.

“Yeah. I suppose.”

He nodded as if I’d done the right thing by agreeing. He swallowed down the last chip on his plate. “Oh, wait!” he said abruptly. “Av you ever considered suicide?”

It seemed a ridiculous thing to say, but he looked at me seriously.

I hesitated.  “Yeah, I have. Many times.”

“Okay. Well, it’s just that ah do seem t’ remember someone who was really suicidal ere, a few months ago. He moved to a different ward after couple it’ weeks, but while he were ere, they got him to take that. Or summit that sounded like it.”

“Moved him to a different ward?”

“Yeah. There’s a good few other wards ere. I don’t know much bout’ them though, t’ be honest.”

“Well, haven’t you wanted to find out?” I asked.

“No. I were on day release only three months ago. I,”- but he stopped as if he’d gone too far. “How would you do it?” he asked with interest.

“Do what?”

“Kill yourself.”

I couldn’t work him out. I looked in his eyes. Despite the tiredness in them, there was an eagerness as well, that seemed to really want to know.

I forked up another slice of pie and forced it into my mouth. “Well,” I said, “I would down all the pills I could get my hands on. Get drunk as