climb too high - part 2 (standard:drama, 2035 words) [2/4] show all parts
Author: snyrt	Added: Dec 27 2001	Views/Reads: 2710/1873	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
the second part of a bit of auto-fiction about a sociopath who takes a wrong turn into drugs after seeking treatment.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Sheila's face shows up at my door.  I hear her unlocking the door.  She
opens it and holds it while I walk through.  As soon as I get out in 
the hall, I get a strange feeling.  Oh man.  I sprint to the bathroom.  
My feet are flying out behind me.  I just see streaks where the tiles 
are supposed to be.  The world is a blur and I'm focused on that one 
point that is my goal.  As I get to the door, I reach out my hand to 
grab the door-frame and swing myself around into the bathroom.  I slide 
across the recently mopped floors and smack my hip on the sink that 
brings me to a stop.  I push off and fly into a stall.  I drop to my 
knees and begin to vomit violently.  It's not food, it's blood.  I'm 
vomiting blood.  There are strange chunks in it.  This can't be a good 
thing.  I keep vomiting.  I don't know where all of it keeps coming 
from, but it just keeps coming and coming.  After about 20 seconds of a 
single heave, I'm out of stuff.  Here comes the bad part.  Here come 
the dry heaves.  I feel my stomach contract until it must be the size 
of a baseball.  My back arches spasmodically.  My body bucks.  Sheila 
shows up next to me.  She grabs me, throws me to the ground, and shoves 
a pill down my throat. Everything fades to black. 

*	*	* 

I'm back on the table in the infirmary.  I seem to be spending a lot of
time here.  Sheila hovers over me with a concerned look on her face.  
Dr. Ericson is standing on the other side of the bed. 

"Henry?  Are you okay?" asks the doctor. 

"I think so.  What happened?" 

"You seem to have gotten some sort of bug.  I don't know what it is, but
you've got some sort of tears in your stomach wall.  We don't know what 
it's from.  We think it was caused by the stress of being kept here." 

"So you're letting me out?" 

"No, not yet.  You're still not better.  We've decided to make this
place a bit more hospitable (Ha, get it?  The hospital is going to be 
more hospitable?  Sorry, I thought it was funny) for you since you'll 
be in here for a few more months." 

"How do you plan on making this place better for me?" 

"We've contacted your parents and they're on their way.  We're going to
move you into a special room.  You'll be able to turn out the lights, 
have books, and listen to music.  That should help with your 
condition." 

"May I see my new room?  I'm quite tired." 

"Sure, follow me," says Sheila. 

We meander down the administrative hallway.  I've never been to the end
of the hall before.  There is a large, gray, metal door at the end.  
Sheila reaches it before me and opens it, exposing a staircase much 
like those in schools.  It has the black steps and the railings that 
make sliding down so much fun.  I remember when i was still in school 
and I would hang one arm over the top rail, plant my butt on the lower 
rail, and fly down.  Sheila ascends the schoolhouse steps.  We are on 
our way to a floor that I've only seen from the gardens.  We reach the 
top and encounter another gray, metal door.  Sheila opens that door and 
holds it open for me.  We are immediately in my new room. 

"This used to be for storage, but we've cleaned it out and now it can be
your room.  We wish we could make it better, but this is as good as we 
can do while still keeping you here." 

"This room will be awesome once I have some music.  All I want is some
music.  And some books.  Books would be - UGH!"  Lightheaded again.  Oh 
man.  NOT AGAIN!!!!  The new room spins.  I start to fall forward.  I 
see Sheila's worried face.  I see her arms reach out to catch me.  It 
doesn't work.  I hit the floor face up. 

"Henry?  Henry?  Are you alright?"  I hear her talking to me but I can't
respond.  I start to slip away. 

*	*	* 

Bed, mmmmmm, bed.  Comfy comfy bed.  The ceiling is plain.  The room is
dark.  DARK!  The darkness is eerie yet pleasant. 

Creak. 

The door opens slightly.  My parents. 

"Hi Mom!  Hi Dad!" 

"Henry!  How are you?" asks my mother frantically.  "We haven't seen you
in so long.  Are you okay?  Did they treat you well?  The doctor said 
you've made tremendous progress."  She talks at a mile a minute. 

My father jumps in.  "Actually, Henry," my mother is a bit jittery. 
She's probably upset that she's been interrupted.  "The doctor said 
that you've made such progress that you can come home now.  You'll have 
to stay under professional supervision.  You'll have to have checkups 
from time to time, but he thinks you're all set." 

"Really?  I can come home?"  Sheila enters the room.  I turn to her. 
"Sheila, is it really true?  Can I really go home?" 

Sheila looks at me with happiness in her eyes.  I sense a touch of
regret.   "Yes, yes Henry.  You can go home now."  I see her eyes water 
a little.  I've been here a while, and Sheila and I have grown quite 
close. 

"What brought this on?  What made the doctor decide to let me go home?" 
I'm still astonished that I'm being released.  It seemed that they'd 
never let me go. 

"Well, I don't really know why he's letting you go.  It's just kindof a
spontaneous decision.  But the important part is that you can go home." 


"When can I leave?" 

"Just go out to the car, Henry," my father says gladly.  "We've already
signed you out.  We're ready to go." 

I'm overwhelmed by the speed with which all of this happened.  "Okay,
I'll be out in a couple of minutes," I say to my parents.  My parents 
turn their backs and quickly exit.  I hear their shoes tap tap tap on 
the stairs.  Sheila looks as me. 

"I'm going to miss you."  Sheila's eyes water. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."  I feel a lump in my throat.  "You've been
the nicest person in the world to me since I've been here.  You've been 
taking care of me, and we went through a lot." 

"Yes, we did go through a lot.  I don't think I could've dealt with
Victoria being killed by - what was your name for her?" 

"Cruel Gruel." 

"Quite fitting.  But I don't think that I could have dealt with Cruel
Gruel killing Victoria if you hadn't been there to assure me that it 
was all going to be okay. 

"I don't think I could have dealt with being here had it not been for
you.  You brought me McDonald's.  You never bitched me out like 
Victoria did." 

"Well, I tried to be nice." 

"You certainly succeeded.  Thank you.  I have to get going... My parents
are waiting." 

"Goodbye, Henry." 

"No, no Sheila.  This isn't a goodbye.  I hate goodbye's.  This is
simply a fare thee well.  So fare thee well, Sheila." 

"Okay then, fare thee well, Henry."  I step toward Sheila and open my
arms.  We give each other a loving hug. 

I step back after a few seconds, look at her, nod my head, and walk past
her to the door.


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