My Daylight Monsters Page 2

  “We’ll visit all the time,” she repeats.

  I almost crack. I almost let the tears come. It takes a deep breath to hold them back. “Okay.”

  “Be careful, sweetheart. Make sure you take your medication,” Mum says.

  “I will, I promise.”

  After another quick hug I find myself being led away by the nurse as Mum and Dad back away. This is it. I’m an in-patient.

  “Now, love, my name is Frances Granger. You can call me Frances, you can call me Nurse Granger or you can call me Nurse Frances. You cannot call me ‘Nurse’ or ‘Miss’. We’re not like that here. We’re a community. You cannot call me ‘Mrs Granger’ , either. That’s my mother’s name.” She chuckles as we walk away from my parents. I glance over my shoulder and see the thin man showing them out. Nurse Granger continues chatting away. It’s like she’s trying to distract me from everything. It’s nice of her. “This is the communal area.” We turn a corner into a section divided by dull-grey sofas with bright cushions—desks and tables that could be from any classroom at any standard school—and an ancient television. There are about half a dozen girls and boys about my age. They all wear loose jogging bottoms and hoodies. Some simply stare into space. “There’s a bookcase with plenty of reading material. Board games and card decks are found in the chest next to the book case. You must rotate the games between you. Some patients felt like using them all day, so we hand out tokens now.”

  We pass a group of four people playing cards. They laugh and joke like old friends. Maybe this place won’t be so bad. But then I spot other patients sitting on their own, muttering under their breath. I can’t help it. I get scared. I want to get away from them.

  “This corridor leads through to the rooms. There are toilets on the right. You can see the signs for male and female. You’ll be sharing with another girl. The boys’ rooms are further down the corridor. On the left, through those double doors, are showers and bathrooms.” She stops outside a door with a narrow glass window panel. It’s frosted. “Knock! Knock!” she says in a cheery voice.

  “What?” comes the reply.

  Nurse Granger opens the door a crack. “It’s just me, Lacey. I’ve got your new roommate here.”

  “Another lamb to the slaughter,” says the voice. It has undercurrents of menace and the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

  Nurse Granger clucks her tongue and opens the door wide, letting me enter. “Oh, stop it, Lacey. Really, Mary, she is not as bad as she makes out.”

  I step reluctantly into the room. Lacey sits on a messy single bed on the right side of the room. She has a mass of platinum blond e hair spilling over her hoody, which is pulled right up to her chin. Her nose is in a book and she doesn’t move, not even to stare at me.

  “You’re still wet from the rain, dear,” Nurse Granger says. “I’ll get you a towel and some fresh clothes.”

  “When will I get my things?” I ask as she turns to leave.

  “Once we’ve checked everything through. I’ll leave you to get to know Lacey. Dr. Harrison will want to see you later, to have a chat. All right?”

  I nod and she leaves, closing the door behind her. Lacey dumps her book on the bed and leaps to her feet.

  “Let’s have a look at yer then.” Her eyes trail my body. Up and down, twice over. “You don’t have that glazed-depressed stare. You’re not fidgety enough to be an addict or a manic. What are you in for?”

  I don’t really want to tell a stranger. “It’s complicated.”

  She snorts. “I bet.”

  The fluorescent strip light flickers overhead. I try to move away from Lacey’s black-lined panda eyes and instead focus on the window at the back of the room. There’s a bedside table in front of it, with cupboards beneath. The glass is dirty and frosted. Outside, the rain pelts down.

  “You’ve not got the crazy eyes of a psychotic,” she continues. “Voluntary or involuntary?”

  “A bit of both,” I reply, moving over to examine the wardrobe. The hangers are plastic. As I’m seventeen, I’m no longer a child, so it was ultimately my decision. But Dr. Harrison did say he thought that while I wasn’t in immediate danger of ‘harming myself or others’, that with my ‘track record’ he would ‘strongly suggest’ that I consider checking into a psychiatric ward. Even just for a short while.

  “You seventeen as well, then?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “So… not an addict, not bipolar, not psychotic… there has to be a reason.”

  Why wouldn’t she leave it alone?

  “PTSD?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this,” I snap. “I’ve been here about five minutes. My parents have only just left.”

  “Dropped off by the ‘rents. Nice. Mine couldn’t give a shit.”

  When I turn away from the wardrobe and back to her, she pokes me in the stomach. “What are you doing?”

  “Not overdosed recently then? I don’t want no suicidal roommate. Man, they are such a drag.” She pulls back my sleeves.

  “Hey!”

  “Good, you’re not a cutter, either. I hate the sight of blood. And you’ve got a bit of meat on you, so you’re not anorexic. I hate sharing with them. All the rotting food stuffed under the bed. Yuck!”

  “Do you mind?” I pull away and sit on my new bed.

  Lacey sits back down on her own. For a minute she appears a bit upset. Regretful even.

  “Sorry,” she says. “I never know when to shut up. I-I’m Lacey Holloway. I’m kinda manic and socially awkward. There! Is that better?”

  “I suppose.”

  “You from out of the city?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Harrington, you know it?”

  She nods. “Right posh in Harrington. Bet you have a right nice house.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Lacey has a bit of a malicious grin but she doesn’t come across as a mean person—just a little all over the place. “Better than living on the estate.”

  “The one by the train station?”

  “Yeah. It’s minging.” She wrinkles her nose as though she can smell it from five miles away. “I prefer it here. Even if Nurse Granger is a ball-buster.”

  “She seems all right.”

  “Oh, she is at first. But she soon turns nasty.” Lacey winks. I get the impression she likes to exaggerate.

  “Is she a bit of a Nurse Ratched?” I ask.

  “You what?”

  “Like in ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’?”

  “Dunno, mate. Never heard of it.”

  “Oh, okay. It’s a famous film and book? Never mind.” I move on. “What are you reading?”

  Lacey picks up her book and examines the cover as though trying to remember. “Just some soppy romance thing. You get so bored you’ll read owt in here. I read a book about canals, last week.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  She exhales through soft lips, reverberating in a floppy brrr-brrr-rrr sound. “Oh, I dunno. About a year.”

  “A year?”

  “Yep!”

  “But… that’s so long.”

  “I guess.” She shrugs. “I’ve been home in that time. It didn’t work out.” Her face darkens. “So I ended up back.”

  “But what about education? Aren’t you going to do any A-Levels or go to university?”

  “I’m not smart enough, or rich enough. Not like you.”

  I open my mouth to say something; I don’t know what. I don’t know how to respond. Luckily, Nurse Granger appears at the door with towels and clothes.

  “Is there somewhere to change?” I ask meekly.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t look.” Lacey picks up her book and buries her nose in it once more.

  Chapter Three

  For a while, things are nowhere near as bad as I’d conjured in my mind. The most disturbing sight is Lacey, picking her toenails. Even though I find myself able to begin to relax in my room, especially after I get my things back and I’m
able to put up a photograph of my family, something stops me from venturing into the communal areas. Lacey finds this frustrating and almost drags me there by the arm. She pulls me around the sofas, pointing at the things Nurse Granger already showed me on the way in. It’s no good. All I see is dark corners with doctors lurking behind. I know that through the two thick glass doors is the rest of the hospital, with people dying, having their insides cut open or giving birth, or whatever other gross things go on.

  I slip away from her and head back towards our room. She doesn’t follow me.

  How is this going to work? How am I supposed to get better, when the thing that’s supposed to help me get better scares me? For the briefest of moments, everything comes crashing down and I have pause and lean against the wall. There’s a bright flash in my mind and I’m back there, flames licking at my skin. I screw my eyes shut and open them again. The corridor light flickers on and off, one… two… three times. My heart flutters like the wings of a trapped butterfly.

  There’s a boy in the corridor, about twenty feet away from me. The light flashes above his head. I only see him for two seconds and then he’s gone. Back into his room, I guess.

  His hood was up, so I only caught a glimpse of his face. I could swear he had green eyes, but maybe it’s the light playing tricks on me. I pull myself together and find my room. Thunder cracks in the distance. Water flows down the windowpane in rivulets. I want to be at home.

  Lacey brings me a tuna sandwich for lunch. “Not veggie, are you?”

  I shake my head.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to eat out there today.”

  It’s so thoughtful that my eyes mist over with tears. More to avoid her gaze than anything, I pull the plastic away from my sandwich and start eating. The bread has gone soggy from too much mayo and the crusts are dry.

  “The food here is shit,” she says. “But you get used to it.”

  I nod, still worried I might cry.

  “The first day is the hardest.” She picks the crust away from her sandwich. “But after that, things get better. I’ll introduce you to everyone tomorrow, if you want.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Wow, you’re a talker. I mean, come on, you’re giving me earache here.” Lacey rolls her eyes and the wicked grin comes back. “No need to go on about it.”

  Finally I catch her eye and we laugh a little.

  “Girls?” Nurse Granger appears at the door again. “Enjoying your lunches?”

  “Yes,” we mumble in unison.

  “Good. Mary, after you’ve eaten that, Dr. Harrison would like to see you. Come to the hatch when you’re ready and I’ll take you in.” Her round, pleasant face disappears from the door.

  My tuna sandwich doesn’t seem quite as appetising now. Hearing the name of someone I’ve seen outside of the hospital reminds me of my family and everything outside the ward. My heart pangs when I realise I miss them already.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t think you’re quite ready for the straight jacket yet,” Lacey says with a laugh. “He’ll talk to you about your medication and the therapy here and stuff. It’s nothing to worry about. What kind of drugs are you on?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Honestly, shut up, Mary. You’re driving me mad with your jibber-jabber. Besides, I’ll probably see what old Lurch passes you in the morning.”

  “Who’s Lurch?”

  “Dr. Gethen, at the hatch. Don’t you think he looks like a monster? With his stoop and creepy eyes.”

  “No, not really,” I reply.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, would you cheer the hell up?” She rolls her eyes at me.

  My stomach churns but I manage to humour Lacey with a smile before getting up from my bed and dumping the tuna sandwich in the bin on the way out.

  Lacey calls after me. “Thought you weren’t anorexic? That’s going to stink the room out, you know. Honestly, I’d expect better from a Harrington girl.”

  *

  “And what about your visions?” Dr. Harrison says.

  I find my eyes roaming his office instead of answering the question. He has a lot of books. His desk is untidy and piled high with papers and tacky snow globes. Rows of cheap little trolls and mascots are stuck atop his computer with blu-tack.

  “I… um… I don’t know.”

  “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?” His bushy eyebrows raise. He leans across the desk, his elbows resting on notepads. “Anything unusual at all?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay. Well, we’ll keep you on the same dose of anti-psychotics as before. Did you take your dose before you came to the hospital, like I said to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s good. So you’ll take your medicine tomorrow morning, after breakfast. At 9am you go to the hatch and collect it, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. And how are you settling in? Are you getting on well with Lacey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I thought so. She’s been here a long time and she knows the ropes. Lacey will show you around and help you settle in. There are daily group therapy sessions that I expect you to attend. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He opens his mouth, probably to say ‘good’, but then closes it again and meets my eyes with his. They are a little bloodshot and an unremarkable blue colour. Lines, bags and a few broken blood vessels mar the skin around his eyes. “Mary, the experience and therapy you get from this ward will only be as good as what you contribute to it. You need to interact with people here. Now, I want you to actively participate in the group therapy sessions, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Harrison sighs and rubs his temples. “All right. You can go now. Don’t forget to collect your medicine from Dr. Gethen, at the hatch, 9am sharp. Please write down any visions you have, like anything you saw at the time of the accident.”

  My skin goes cold.

  “Okay.” I stand up to leave.

  “Nurse Granger is there if you have any problems. There is someone supervising the hatch at all times. Usually Dr. Gethen.”

  “Okay.”

  To get back to my room I have to walk back past the hatch, through the communal area, past the toilets and down the corridor. No one seems to bother me—they’re too interested in watching daytime television or playing cards. Some are just too involved in themselves to care. They stare at the walls, their lips moving but emitting no sound. Care assistants sit near them, with books open on their knees. When one boy, about fourteenish in appearance with a thin face and pale skin, jumps up and makes screeching noises, the care assistant watches him warily but doesn’t intervene.

  I tensed every muscle when the boy screeched, and my stomach flipped. Despite telling myself not to be such an idiot, I move faster towards my room. The stupid corridor light flickers on and off again. Behind me, the agitated boy screeches. I glance back, breath catching in my throat. The care assistant tries to calm the boy but he hits the sofa with his fists. I turn away and carry on along the corridor, hurrying and not paying attention to what I’m doing.

  The lights flicker overhead and I stumble away from the common room, moving so fast I don’t see the trainers left on the floor. I trip forward, catch my trouser leg with the foot behind, and have no choice but to let myself fall to the floor, with both arms stupidly flailing. My palms and face both smack down at the same time, leaving my skin stinging.

  But I don’t care about the stinging; I want to get up as fast as possible, preferably before anyone notices. In doing so, I almost fall forwards again. With a groan I kick the offending trainers away and clench and unclench my fists to get the feeling back in my hands.

  “Have a nice trip?”

  I spin around to see a hooded figure behind me. His voice is low and quiet, with a hint of sarcasm. The light flickers and brightens, revealing green eyes and a hint of dark stubble under the hood. The boy from earlier. Up close I see he’s tall, well-built and stands cock
ily with his arms folded. He pulls back the hood to reveal a smirk and thick eyelashes.

  “Whatever,” I mutter, moving away from him. I’ve got no time for sarcasm today. He can jog on.

  As I start to open the door to my room, something makes me turn back towards the guy. He smiles and says, “I’m Johnny. Nice to meet you.”

  I glance away, pushing the door open. It groans loudly. Again, I look back. Johnny is gone.

  Chapter Four

  I always thought my demons came out in the day, rather than at night. I’ve never been scared of the dark. I’ve only ever been scared of real things: getting ill, having injections, physical pain… death. Those are my monsters, not ghosts or vampires or whatever else can hide under your bed at night. I guess serial killers could get you in the dark, but they can get you in the light just as easily.

  I was wrong.

  The dark makes everything worse.

  Lacey warns me about Frankie, the boy who screams. He’s been in Magdelena for a long time. The screams come from nowhere and happen at any time, day or night. That night I wake in a cold sweat to the sound of his screeches, echoing down the corridor, and the squeak of shoes against the linoleum as the nurses and care assistants rush to his room. Lacey doesn’t even stir.

  After that, every noise is amplified. Every glint of light seems sinister. Occasional cars arrive and leave the multi-story car park opposite our room. They come and go at all hours. My mind begins to wander each time the headlights seep through the windows. I make up stories for each driver. At 3am, a family leave the bedside of their now deceased grandparent. She’d waited for them to leave the room before letting herself die. The presence of her family helped her cling to a few extra moments, but no one can last forever. At 5am, a nurse finishes her shift and heads back to her car. She goes to unlock the door but finds it already unlocked. How weird. Did she forget to lock it? She must be working too hard again. She’ll have to ask for time off. At least no one has stolen the car, or her radio. That’s really lucky. She drives away without checking the rear view mirror. She should have checked…