Chapter 23 #2
“Let’s just get moving.” I could still feel the nightmares lingering around me, trying to push through my newfound determination and swamp me. It was so much easier now that the curse was mostly broken. But the ghost of it remained, and I had to sever the rest of the tie myself.
“If you’re sure? No? Do you mind if I?—”
“Cecil, no.”
He shook his head. “Okay, fine. Okay,” he said, eyeing my ratty hair and hospital gown.
“So, we need to sneak you into a psych ward, huh? I’m thinking…
sexy psychiatrist.” He pursed his lips. “It’s an oxymoron.
But we’ll work with it.” Golden sparkles erupted from his forehead, right where his two horns would be. “There you go.”
I looked down at myself and saw I wore black dress pants, a fitted cream shirt, and sensible shoes. My hair was pulled back off my face and into a slick French roll. Thick-rimmed tortoise shell glasses sat on my nose. A security pass dangled from a lanyard around my neck. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
The receptionist looked up when I approached the desk. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” I said, not smiling. I didn’t have a plan. All I had was a desperate impulse to get inside this damned hospital, find a padded room, lie down, and shake off the rest of this curse.
I leaned over the reception desk. Cecil sat down dutifully at my heels. “One of my patients has been transferred here, and I’d like to see her.”
“Name?” The nurse asked shortly.
“Sarah Smith.” It was a shot in the dark.
“We don’t have any new admissions by that name.” The phone rang; she picked it up, and snapped, “Please hold.” Then, she turned back to me. “She’s not here.”
“Are you sure? Maybe she was admitted under her maiden name.”
“What’s her maiden name?”
“I think it starts with M…” I tapped on my phone. “What was it? Matthews? Morton?”
The phone rang again; she picked it up. “Please hold.” Slamming the phone down, the receptionist tapped on her keyboard for a second. “Masterton? We’ve got a Sarah Masterton here.”
“That’s it.”
She looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Sarah Masterton has been here since last Tuesday, though.” The phone rang again, and a muscle in her jaw ticked. Frustration hung over her like a thundercloud; I could almost see it.
Thank you, brethren magic. It was subtle, but I knew exactly what would push her to the point where she would disregard protocol to get rid of me.
Time to go full Karen mode. I bristled and thrust out my chest. “Well, I was only informed this morning that she was admitted. Treating doctors are meant to be notified as soon as their patients are admitted. How come nobody contacted me sooner?”
The phone rang again. The nurse flinched and muttered under her breath. “Goddamnit, I don't have time for this shit.” She picked up the phone, slammed the receiver down, and tapped a sign-in sheet. “Sign in here, then head to reception on the third floor. Someone will show you to her room.”
I picked up Cecil’s lead, walked to the elevator, and pressed the button. The doors opened. “So far so good,” I whispered.
“Are you sure this is your greatest fear, Chosen? Because you’re kinda slaying right now.”
“Thanks.” I pressed the button for the second floor.
“Didn’t she say third floor?”
“There are calming rooms on the second floor, Cecil. I remember clearly.” I clenched my fists, trying to tamp down the terror that rose inside of me. My palms felt so sweaty. “I need to get in there, lie down, and face my fear head-on. That’s the only way to break this curse. I’m sure of it.”
The elevator dinged; I walked out, turned left, then right again, ignoring the nurses and other staff that bustled past. “Here.” I jerked my head. A calm room. I opened the door, walked in, and gestured to my shirt. “Can you do the honors, Cecil?”
“Oh, it goes against everything I stand for, but sure.” Golden sparks erupted from his furry forehead, and a thick canvas covered my upper body all the way down to my thighs. Both my arms were sandwiched by my sides. “Okay, lie down, Chosen.”
I knelt, then shuffled sideways, letting myself fall on the padded floor. I winced as my bruised flesh hit the waterproofed, cushioned surface. “You need to leave me alone for a few minutes, Cecil.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Shut the door.” I swallowed roughly. “Lock me in.”
“Oh-kay.” He padded to the door.
I lay there for a few minutes in silence. My vision remained clear.
Time for a pep-talk. “Okay, Susan. You’re wrapped in a straitjacket in a psych ward. You can’t move. You’re helpless. You’re never getting out.”
I waited for the phantoms to descend and for the fear to catapult me into the darkness again. But nothing happened.
“Never getting out. Never getting out.” I repeated it a few more times, hoping it would trigger me.
It didn’t.
I huffed out a breath. Maybe Donovan had already broken the curse-tie enough to free me. But… that ghostly silver cord was still intact, and I knew it haunted me. The phantoms lingered on the edge of my psyche.
Maybe I was too worried about Donovan.
Yes, that felt true. I was shit-scared and panicked to the point of screaming. But my fear wasn’t for me. It was for him.
I rolled over onto my back and looked at the ceiling. The padding underneath me was actually quite comfortable.
The door clicked, and Cecil poked his head in. “Are you done?”
“No.” I ground my jaw, suddenly overwhelmed with frustration. My instincts pricked me. Chase it. Chase it, and you’ll find what you’re looking for.” I wriggled around and sat up. “This is not working.”
“Do you want me to leave you in here for a while? They’ve got Girl Scout cookies in the staffroom.”
That surge of frustration reared up again. “I don’t think that will help. I need to get rid of this curse, because I can’t concentrate while it’s still active. I have to face my fear, but I can’t figure out how to do that.”
Cecil pursed his lips. “Maybe this isn’t your greatest fear.”
“It is, though. Being locked up is my greatest fear?—”
Buzz.
I flinched. “Wait. It’s not?”
Cecil looked up at me, confused. “What?”
I tried again. “Being locked up is my greatest fear.”
Buzz.
I was lying.
“Huh. Being… powerless is my greatest fear?”
Buzz
“Okay, that’s not it, either. Goddamnit.” I hissed through my teeth and looked away. Every moment I waited, every second that ticked by, Donovan was getting more and more lost in his own nightmares. He’d helped me with mine. I had to find him and help him with his.
“What’s going on, Chosen?”
“Apparently, I have been mistaken.” I clenched my teeth. “I’m in here for the sole purpose of trying to face my fears so I can break this fucking curse!”
Cecil frowned. “Maybe the curse is already broken.”
“It is… but it’s not. I can still feel it.”
I could, too. The phantoms were lingering just above me, waiting to swallow me, floating on the edges of my consciousness, and making it hard to think straight.
“I thought that being here would trigger something. Goddamnit, Cecil. I’m missing something.
” I took a deep breath in and tilted my head back, looking at the ceiling.
“I thought my biggest fear was being locked up forever, but in my nightmares, when I’m running away from the wardens or writhing in a straitjacket…
I don’t think that’s what I’m really scared of. ”
“Okay, Chosen, whatever it is, you need to sort it out quickly. Because you literally just broke yourself out of a regular hospital, and you’re in a padded room in the middle of a psychiatric hospital, and you’ve been wandering the corridors, masquerading as a doctor…”
Nothing he said catapulted me into the spiral of fear I was looking for. The answers were here; I could feel it. All my instincts had screamed at me to come over here to the psych unit, and I’d find what I was looking for.
What was I really afraid of?
I was scared of losing Donovan. But instinctively I knew that I would see him again, even if it was just in my dreams. I wasn’t scared of death. Or of pain. Which was a good thing, because my bruises fucking hurt.
Hurt. Injury. Pain. Hmm. There was something there that I was frightened of…
Not my pain, though.
A chime went off in my head. That was it!
The answer hit me like a truck. Fireworks exploded in my mind’s eye. “Me!”
Cecil mumbled around a mouthful of Samoa cookie. “What?”
Somewhere in the heavens, a choir of angels sang a triumphant note. “I’m afraid of myself.”
“That’s… that seems silly, Chosen. You’re not scary. I mean, your giant hairy vagina is quite frightening, but other than that?—”
“Shush, you asshole. This is it; I know it.”
Confirmation. I needed confirmation, and I needed to face that fear. I took a deep breath and ran my nightmares back through my mind’s eye, inspecting every single one for that linchpin moment—the moment where the terror swallowed me whole.
It wasn’t the running. It wasn’t being handcuffed or wrapped in a straitjacket.
No. The most terrifying part was where I thought I was about to explode.
I wasn’t scared of the wardens catching me. I was scared of what I might do when they did. And I wasn’t frightened of being restrained. I was frightened of breaking my restraints, causing an earthquake, and burying everyone underneath a pile of bricks.
Yes. This felt…
Oh, yes, I could actually feel it! My spine contracted—lengthening, stretching me out—my lungs expanded, and I inhaled a full breath gratefully. That heavy psychic weight I’d been carrying around for a whole day lifted as I faced the truth. This was what I was truly scared of.
I exhaled, long and loud, and said the words out loud. “I’m scared of my own power. I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone again. Like I did with Vincent.”
The statement rang true. I sucked in a breath, suddenly overwhelmed.
A little more of the darkness lingering at my crown evaporated.
“That’s what’s been haunting me. That’s why I can’t face my fear properly; I never really understood what it was about.
But that’s it! I’m scared of my own magic.
I’m terrified that I might hurt someone again.
I’ve been holding back, shoving my power down deep where I can’t feel it, and that’s why! ”
Cecil gave a little whoop. “And that’s why you’re such a control freak!”
“This—” My jaw popped. I’d been clenching it for far too long, and now my muscles were rapidly relaxing.
I exhaled a long breath. “This power inside me…” I clenched my fists.
“I’ve always felt it, Cecil, ever since I was a little girl.
My whole life, I’ve kept it wrapped tight, suppressed to the point where I couldn’t even feel it anymore.
That’s why I’m obsessed with protocol and following the rules and fairness and managing people; it’s because I’m scared of losing control and exploding, like I did with Vincent. ”
The last traces of darkness that had lingered around the edges of my vision for the past twenty-four hours finally disappeared.
I exhaled with relief.
Cecil’s eyes were wide. “Is that it? Did you do it?”
“Yes. I’ve faced my fears. The curse is really, properly, truly broken. But now… We have to hurry,” I said, fresh panic straining my voice. “I need to get to the Under so I can save Donovan.”
Cecil waved his paws, dissolving the straitjacket. It melted back into a cream shirt, and we left the calming room.
A large group of people were heading down the corridor; I turned abruptly and walked the other way. Fire exit. Yes, that was a better idea.
“Chosen?” Cecil had stopped outside one of the rooms, his furry nose pressed against the glass panel. “You need to see this.”
I looked. A girl lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My heart stopped.
Audrina.