5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Larken
Her name is Anne. She gets here every morning an hour before Adrian leaves for work and she stays until about half an hour after he gets home. She is supposed to help me. I don't think that's what she's doing, though.
She might make sure I have access to food and drink, and she makes me change into new clothes every day, but she doesn't do much helping. What she does is push. She pushes me to eat faster. She pushes me to “dress the part”, whatever that means. She pushes me to take all the extra vitamins and supplements that she and Adrian have decided I need.
I still haven't seen a doctor. Adrian swears he's making appointments, and Anne backs him up. I have to believe them. What purpose would there be in lying about that? If I could find my phone I'd call and make the appointments myself. Adrian has brought it to me several times. He plugs it in to charge overnight and puts it on the nightstand. I remember him doing it, but it isn't there the next morning. I've asked Anne if she's seen it but she just pats my hand and tells me not to worry about any silly phone.
I've been falling more and I'm having trouble concentrating on a single thought for very long. I've also been more muddled than ever before. So much so, that it took me several tries to sign off on some office supplies yesterday. It felt like I couldn't focus on holding the pen, much less signing my name on the line. It upset me so much that I became agitated. I feel like such a failure. What would my Dad think if he saw the mess I've become?
Anne roughly pushes on my shoulder the next morning to wake me up. “You need to get up now, Mrs. Nash. It's time for your medication.”
I keep my eyes closed tightly, my brows wrinkling as I shake my head to try to clear out some of the heaviness. “Wait,” I mumble. “I need to eat with it. It makes me sick if I don't.”
She pushes my shoulder again and starts yanking the blanket down. “Come on, now. Sit up. It's time to start the day.”
“Anne,” I say more firmly. “I am not a child. I am capable of waking up on my own time and on my own terms.” It would probably carry a little more bite if I didn't feel like there was cotton in my mouth.
She sighs and puts her hands on her hips. “I'm here to help you, Mrs. Nash. Please don't make that any more difficult than it is.”
Difficult? How is it difficult? I mostly sleep or stare out of the window if I'm in a cycle of insomnia. “I am not being difficult, Anne. I'm just not ready to get up and I don't enjoy being shoved out of bed. Nobody does. Probably not even you.”
Her lips press together in a tight line. “Mr. Nash has instructed that you are to be up, dressed, and fed before his morning call. I'm just following instructions.”
Morning call? “What morning call?” Adrian hasn't called me mid-morning in forever. Why would he call and not speak to me?
She sighs again and starts speaking very slowly. “He calls every morning, Mrs. Nash. Right after your breakfast. Don't you remember?”
“I'd remember talking to him every morning.” Wouldn't I?
Then she tilts her head, smiling condescendingly. “It's alright, Mrs. Nash. No need to get upset. Let's give you your medicine.”
I use every ounce of strength I have to shove myself away from her. “Don't speak to me like that. I'm not a child. I'll take the medication when I'm ready.”
Anne pulls out her phone and sends a text, muttering about how ungrateful I am. A few moments later her phone rings and she answers it on speakerphone. “Good morning, Mr. Nash.”
“Good morning, Anne. Can she hear me?”
“She can,” Anne, answers. “She's right here.” She holds the phone out so that I can hear Adrian more clearly.
“Larken, sweetheart, what's got you so upset?”
Upset? I'm not upset. I'm a little irritated but I'm not upset. Not yet. “I am not a child, Adrian. I don't want to be forced to wake up if I'm not ready.”
“She's only trying to help, babe,” he tells me. “You need to take your medicine early in the day so it has time to help.”
“It's mostly vitamins,” I argue. “It doesn't matter what time I take them. And that isn't the point. I don't enjoy being shoved and pushed and ordered to do things.”
“Who is pushing you?”
I look at Anne when I answer. “Anne was pushing me this morning, and jerking the blankets away from me. My eyes weren't even open.”
“I was only nudging her to get her attention,” Anne insists. “I called her name several times and she didn't wake up.”
“You see, babe? Just a little misunderstanding. Now be a good girl and calm down. Take your medicine and eat your breakfast. I'll be home early this afternoon.”
“No, Adrian,” I snap. “It wasn't a misunderstanding. She pushed me.”
He sighs into the phone. “Listen, babe. I don't have time for this right now. I have a meeting with a potential client and I can't be late. Just get up and take the medicine and let Anne help you until I get home.” He ends the call before I have time to say anything else, leaving me glaring at the phone and the woman holding it.
“You see, Mrs. Nash?” Anne asks in a honeyed voice. “Just a little misunderstanding.” She puts her phone into her pocket and smiles as she bends forward to grab the corner of the blanket and yanks it out of my hands. “Now, are you going to get up on your own or do you need me to help you?”
The look in her eyes says very clearly that I don't want her to help me.
Adrian doesn't come home early and when I ask Anne if he texted her to let her know when he would be home she just looked at me with a funny expression and told me that he wouldn't be home early.
I don't think I'm hallucinating. Do people who hallucinate know they're hallucinating? I have no idea. All I know is that I hate feeling like this. Nothing helps and I'm having a hard time discerning which things are actually happening and which things aren't.
And I miss my Dad.
I miss the life I had before I lost him.
Things come to another head a week or so later. Anne didn't call my name. I know without any hint of doubt that she didn't. I'm in the throes of an insomnia cycle and I've been awake for days. That doesn't mean I'm so addled that I don't know when people call my name. She didn't. She just barged in here and yanked the blankets off of me. I haven't even had time to block the light streaming into the room before she jerks the blinds open and comes back to push and pull at my shoulders. I feel like my instant irritation is understandable, but she's acting like I've attacked her.
“Mrs. Nash! Please!” She glances at the top of the window and back toward the door and hallway. “I'm only trying to help you get up out of bed.”
“What are you talking about? Why are you looking around like that? You have to give me time before you start pulling on me and shoving me around.”
She pulls out her phone and raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get up on your own, or do I need to call Mr. Nash while he's at work?”
“What you need to do, Anne , is get out of my room and leave me alone until I'm ready to get up on my own. You're supposed to be here to help me, not treat me the way you do.”
She glances back at the window and I turn my head to look at it too. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing, Mrs. Nash. There's no reason for you to be combative. I am here to help you. That's all I'm trying to do.”
An unexpected wave of dizziness and lethargy crashes into me and I press my palm against my forehead to try to offset the sensation of simultaneously spinning and falling. “Where is my phone?”
“Mr. Nash put it away someplace where it wouldn't bother you. You asked him to.”
I look at her for a long moment. I did no such thing, but I've already learned that there's no point in trying to prove it. “Then help me downstairs and to the neighbor's house. I need to call an ambulance.”
“Mr. Nash--”
“Mr. Nash isn't here. I am. You say you're supposed to be here to help me, so help me. I need to go to the hospital.”
She backs away from me, looking again at the window. “I'm calling Mr. Nash.”
“I need you to call a doctor, Anne! Now!”
I'm getting up out of this bed and I will leave this house if I have to crawl the whole way. I am not going to stay here another day and allow myself to be treated this way. There is something wrong with me and it is obvious that neither Adrian nor Anne are willing to help me. I'll crawl down the stairs and out the door and then next door. I roll over the side of the bed and try to stand up, but my equilibrium is too off and I fall back to my hands and knees. Whatever has been wrong with me is getting worse and no one will help me, not even my husband. Why? I don't understand.
I start crawling, one hand and one knee at a time. I make it three feet before Anne's wrapping her arms around my waist and hefting me back into the bed.
“You need to be in bed, Mrs. Nash,” she grunts. “We don't want you to fall and hurt yourself.”
She keeps trying to pull me up and I keep fighting her. “What are you doing? You can't do this to me!”
Her hold on me loosens for just a second and I try to break away from her but then I feel a pinch on my thigh. “Did you just drug me?” I shriek. “What did you do?”
“You're out of control. After the last time, Mr. Nash told me to give you something to help you calm down quickly. To protect you from hurting yourself again. It will be okay, Mrs. Nash. You'll feel better in just a minute.”
“No!” I scream. “I am not out of control! What do you mean, last time?” This has never happened before. Never . I would remember something like this happening. Wouldn't I? It's been less than a minute and already my vision is darkening around the edges. “What did you give me, Anne?”
“Just something to calm you down, Mrs. Nash. Just relax. I'll be here with you.”
~
When I wake up it's dark outside and Adrian is sitting on the foot of my bed.
“I'm trying my best, Larken. I really am.”
I blink at him while I try to gather myself and my muddy, scattered, and slow thoughts.
“I'm doing everything I can think of to make sure the company stays in the good while taking care of you. I don't understand why you--”
“She drugged me, Adrian,” I cut in, hating how slurred my words come out.
He sighs. “She gave you your medication just like she does every morning. You're just confused. You can't try--”
“Why won't you listen to me?” I interrupt again, tears burning my eyes and throat. “Anne isn't helping me, Adrian. She hurts me.”
“How does she hurt you?” he scoffs.
“She pushes me around. She lies. She threatens me.”
“Maybe you need to be a little less difficult and a little more helpful.”
I take a breath to calm myself. I realize how paranoid I must sound to him and I need him to listen to me. “She keeps looking at the window. There's something up there. All I wanted to do today is call an ambulance. There's something wrong with me and I need a hospital.”
“Larken, she's allowed to look out the window,” he sighs. “And all you need is a little rest.”
“That's all I've been doing,” I spit. “Rest. Sleep. Not sleep. I'm exhausted and dizzy and I need to see a doctor.”
“You don't need to see a doctor because you're tired. Just go back to sleep. You'll feel better.”
I glare at his hand when he pats the top of my foot. “I just woke up, Adrian.”
“Don't get upset again, babe. We don't want another episode.”
“There has never been an episode.”
He smiles at me, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “You just don't remember.”
“No, I don't,” I agree. “Because it didn't happen. Just like I wasn't out of control this morning. There is something wrong with me, Adrian, but I'm not having those kinds of episodes. Just dizzy spells.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he croons. “You really don't remember.”
“Remember what?” I ask, trepidation tightening my throat.
“Let me show you.” He picks up his phone from where it was laying on the bed and pulls up a video, then holds it out for me to watch.
It's me. But I've never seen myself look so disheveled. I look drunk, but I haven't had a single drink in months. I watch myself stumble around the bedroom and fall to my hands and knees. I listen as I sob and beg for Adrian to come help me. Then I listen to myself cry and beg him to go get my Dad. He reminds me that my Dad is gone and then I watch as grief takes over my features again and I crumble to the floor. And worse, when Adrian tries to help me up I fight him and accuse him of trying to hurt me.
I don't remember anything about any of that happening. Not a single minute of it. I would never behave the way the person in this video is behaving. Not consciously.
Then I have another realization. I look up at the window. That's why Anne was looking at it this morning. “Is there a camera above the window?” My voice is quiet with complete horror and embarrassment.
Adrian looks up at the window, too, a little smile curving his mouth. “Yes. For your safety.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
He looks back at me. “Because you would have taken it badly. You haven't exactly been understanding or coherent lately.”
I just look at him. This is so utterly unacceptable... such an invasion...
“Oh, don't look at me like that, babe. I just installed it to help me keep an eye on you before we hired Anne.”
“ You hired Anne.”
“Because you can't take care of yourself and one of us has to run your Dad's company.”
“All I need is to see a doctor, a real doctor, and then I'll be able to run my company myself. Where is my phone?”
Adrian chuckles. “You're getting agitated again, Larken. You can't run the company in your state. You're just going to have to trust me.”
“Where is my phone, Adrian?”
He stands up and smiles down at me. “I put it away. You don't like all the notifications. Don't worry. As soon as you're back to yourself I'll make sure you have it.”