"Reality Check"
by Jada Bethea They say I talk to walls. I scream at them and tell them to leave me alone, scratch my face until I break skin and then laugh at their horrified faces. You see, I’m sane. They’re not. That’s where everyone seems to get it wrong. They’re jealous that I can see what they can’t. I’m envied for my gifts. Wherever I want to go, I’m there within a matter of seconds. Right now, I’m at this amazing parade in - “God dammit Romona stop banging on my bed!” Jody hollers. “Jody! What are you doing in Rio baby?” “What the hell are you talking about?” she groans. Suddenly my surroundings fade from painted bodies and brazilian bird mascots, to the all white furniture that occupies my home. That happens from time to time. I’ll see something one second, and the next, it’s gone. It sounds terrifying but you shouldn't be afraid. There’s not one thing in this world that ever remains permanent. “Rise and shine wack-a-doodle-doos. Breakfast is already getting cold and the longer you sit here the less rec time you have.” Anthony grumbles. “Hey An-TONY... You know what else is on the menu?” Katie asks mischievously. “Eggs, toast and drugs to keep you as sane as humanly possible. Breakfast. Now.” He leaves the doorway, rolling his eyes as he departs. “Dream on cupcake, he’ll never belong to you.” Jody chuckles. Katie glares at her and spits, “Bite me.” Jody shrugs. “I just might.” “Hey! Come on now guys, we’re better than this.” I interrupt. “Oh look! Happy-Go-Lucky is here to swoop in and save the day! Preach your lovey-dovey feelings to someone who cares .” Katie sneers. My anger gets the best of me. “Hmm. Little lonely these days, are we? I heard that Tallia next door is looking for some company.” Katie lunges towards me but I dip out of the room before her knuckles find my face. The hallway lights flicker as I run my callused hands along the bumpy wall. My eyes search the doorways until they locate “142” printed in faded, black lettering. I creep to the bed on the side of the room. It’s still dim enough for my shadow to be a fuzzy figure on the tiled floor. I tap her shoulder. “Melani!” I whisper. “Melani, it’s me.” She rolls over and smiles a toothy grin. Her ice-cold fingers brush against my cheeks and wrap around my tan neck, pulling me closer. “Romona.” she breathes. I stand up, tugging on her arm like a toddler. “C’mon let’s get something to eat. I wanna show you off to those psycho freaks.” I laugh as we stumble out of the room, hand in hand. • • • I take her to the park, sometimes the river bank, but my all time favorite is the back of the bar on 47th street. “What happened next?” Melani says as she taps my shoulder excitedly. “I jumped off!” I respond. She shrieks in giddy horror. “Shut up they're gonna hear us!” I tell her. “Make me…” She backs up against the brick wall and puts on a mock look of fear, bringing her wrist together in front of her like they're bound by handcuffs. I don't move. “I said, make me.” She says. Slightly louder this time. I look away. “ C’mon Melani. I didn't get to finish the story. Besides, we’re out in the open where everyone can see.” I can feel my chest slowly tightening. “It’s not as special.” I add hastily. “That's nonsense. You're with me so it’s as special as it'll ever get.” Her voice has taken on a defensive tone. It shakes as if she's straining against something. I still haven't moved. Her face twitches and then she grabs me by my shirt and slams me against the surface she was once leaning on so innocent-like. The back of my head hits the brick knocking the breath out of me. Her grip is so tight I can't escape. “So ungrateful,” she says. My eyes jump around, searching for anyone within earshot. “Let go.” I whimper. A tear swims down my left cheek. “Okay, fine.” she says with a strained smile. Then without warning she throws me aside. I trip over a bottle of Bud Light and careen towards the concrete. Blood begins to clot at my elbows and my eyes are fluttering in an effort to stay open. I can hear Melani’s feet scuffling across the ground as she makes her way towards me. Just as her face comes into view, the world goes silent and all I can see is black. • • • Nothing is in focus yet. The metal springs of the bed above me greet my eyes as I wake from unconsciousness. The smell of rotten eggs sifts through the barred windows. I turn my head to the side and see Melani staring at me from across the room. Memories from only a few hours ago rush back to me all at once. I sit up too fast and yelp from the pain. “Relax you’re safe. I’m sorry.” she says to her hands. Now looking at me, “I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t in control of myself.” She starts to rise. “Don’t come near me.” “Romona please you have to believe me.” she pleads. “You know I love you.” I inhale sharply. “Don’t…” “Don’t what? Admit the truth? Tell you how I feel? Jesus what am I supposed to do?” “Just leave me alone.” I say with gritted teeth. “Why do you do this to me? I give you so much attention, make you the top priority in my life and you treat me like this!” Melani screams into my face. “Look at me!” she growls. I scoff and she slaps me in the face. I thought I’d only have to endure a few more blows after that. But they kept coming. It went on like this until my skin turned red and the numbness was so severe I stopped flinching. • • • I’ve been missing for over two hours. For people who consider us the ones to be mentally challenged, they’re not the sharpest tools in the shed if they haven’t checked the roof yet. Then again, if they had the door to the roof unlocked they don’t really care about us to begin with. The crisp air stings my eyes but I don’t mind. It’s quiet up here. Peaceful even. I’m safe from Melani, or whoever she is now. Safety is only temporary though - but you knew that. I don’t want to always be in a constant state of fear. This panic that I feel now, the desire to run and keep running, I hate it. They’ve always considered me inferior because of the way I think but never have I believed in their words - until now. I look down at the people on the street below me as they walk briskly past each other. They’ll always have somewhere to go. Where am I going? I’ll forever be held a prisoner by these bumpy, old walls, with the faded lettering and the monster from room 142. Right here on this roof, I’m in control. I remember once again that wherever I want to go I can be there within a matter of seconds. And in this moment, the only place I want to go is down. So I take the ultimate leap of faith. Now, I’m free. Epilogue When my partner and I arrive at the crime scene it’s around 2 p.m. “Coroner said she’s been dead for about 6 hours?” I ask. “Yeah. It’s just sick. These mental institutions are suppose to be a place you can trust to look after the ill but they treat them like criminals.” Lee says. I nod in agreement as I step out of the car. All I can think about is my youngest daughter, Naomi, who has Down syndrome. We walk to the cafeteria where we’re told there’s a group of patients for us to question. “Jody, this is Detective Jones. Can you tell her what you told us?” A man named Anthony prompts. “All I know is that this morning I woke up to Romona stressing about some Melani girl. It wasn’t breakfast time though so I just went back to sleep. I got my own issues. Oh! But she was talking about how the girl never loved her. Who’s Melani?” Jody says. “Jones!” Lee yells. “Come take a look at this.” He holds out a manila folder for me to see. It’s Romona’s file. As my eyes skim the document I come across a word that stops me dead in my tracks. “She was a schizophrenic.” I say in defeat. In that moment, everything comes together. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” “Call the Captain.” I hand back the file and start walking to the car because the case is solved. It's clear what’s happened here. The irony of it all makes me sick to my stomach. “I’ll drive.” I say. Lee silently tosses me the keys. He’s realized that this is a personal matter for me. I woke up today thinking I'd be drinking pumpkin coffee right now while finishing the paperwork from the successful close of last week’s case. I'm of course doing none of the above. My vision becomes obscured by tears that I fiercely wipe away. Your imagination can be so cruel.
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About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
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