Chapter Two

It had been three weeks since she had seen Greevly. Lolita replayed the restroom scene every night, wondering what happened. The music was consuming her brain, and sometimes she couldn’t even hear the world around her.

Lauren, Stacy, Bov, and Danny ate with her every day, and they invited her to spend time with them in the game room or the movie room. But mostly, Lolita wanted to be left alone. She hid in the library during her free time, between the ordered visits with a psychiatrist.

One of the staff doctors had taken an interest in Lolita as well. She dreaded when the bandages on her arms would need changed. The doctor would sit her on the table, have her strip down so he could check her for self inflicted injuries. Then he would run his hands across her chest, and up her thighs. And the music would start in the back of her skull and ripple through her mind, leaving nothing but darkness behind it.

Lolita would always leave the doctor’s exam room in a daze. The music would rack at her mind and she would be so overwhelmed by it that she would stumble her way down the halls, searching for her room. Those days she wouldn’t come down to the cafeteria for food. Those days she hid under the blanket on her bed and silently slipped into her nightmares.

—

Sociopath.

—

Lolita stumbled down the hall. She had just left the exam room, and the music in her head was so deafening that she couldn’t remember where her room was. She pressed her shoulder against the wall, trying to stabilize herself, but she couldn’t seem to control her feet enough to walk. The halls all looked alike, and she couldn’t figure out which one led to the wall of French doors that would lead her to her room. Finding the music too deafening, she slumped to the floor, clutching her head in her hands. The piano keys were clanking, the violin strings were screeching, and the timpani was banging. Her head pulsed in her hands as the music increased, slowly swirling into a screaming mush of white noise on loop in her head.

The noise stopped. The music retreated to the base of her skull as a soft voice whispered her name.

“Lolita?” Greevly’s voice was soft, gentle.

She looked up.

Greevly was crouched down next to her, his brow furrowed in slight concern. His icy blue eyes pierced straight through her, and she wondered if the man ever blinked. Josh, Eric, Ritzy, and a very twitchy Zachariah stood behind him.

“Are you alright, Lolita?” Greevly asked calmly.

She pressed her body against the wall, uncomfortable with the little space between her and Greevly. She nodded, the music silent now.

Greevly stood, offering her a hand to help her up.

Timidly she took his hand, and allowed him to pull her up.

“Inmates, don’t loiter in the hall,” a male nurse called out.

Ritzy, Eric, and Josh all glanced in the nurse’s direction. Zachariah nearly jumped out of his skin. Greevly never broke his gaze at Lolita, and she didn’t turn away either.

“Come,” Greevly put out a hand, as if suggesting Lolita take the lead, “walk with us.”

As they walked, Greevly questioned her, “you are new here, are you not?”

She nodded.

“Why have you come here?”

She held up her bandaged arms.

“You hurt yourself?”

She nodded.

“And what crime did you commit?”

She bit her lip.

“Lolita, it is most polite to respond when engaged in conversation.” He smiled down at her gently, and Lolita noticed that he was a whole head and shoulders taller than her.

She looked down at her bare feet, “I stabbed my guardian in the shoulder with a screwdriver.”

He nodded, “I see. And why would you do a thing like that?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, so suddenly that Josh, who was walking behind her took an awkward double step to the side to keep from tripping over her. Lolita looked up at Greevly, who had turned in front of her; her eyes wide in fear at the memory of what had forced her hand.

—

She looked me dead in the eyes, her own were wide, wild, and frightened.

“The music wouldn’t stop.”

I watched her shrink into herself, a subtle shiver started in her rib cage and rippled out through the rest of her body.
“Lolita, is the music playing now?”

She nodded, and I reached out to catch her as she shrank so far into herself that she began to crumple to the ground, cradling her head.

I picked her up, surprised at how lightweight she actually was, and motioned for the others to follow.

Once at my room, I laid her fragile body on the small twin sized bed. The others found places to rest; Ritzy in the small desk chair, Zachariah curled up on the floor by the large picture window, Eric and Josh on the floor with a deck of cards. I lifted Lolita’s head, situating myself under her, and gently cradled her head in my lap.

She groaned softly, her eyes fluttering as her pupils dilated and adjusted to to fluorescent lights above. She looked up at me, her hands slipping away from her temples and rested upon my thigh.

“Why can’t it just be a bad dream?” She asked, quite pathetically.

I placed a hand on her forehead and slid it over her hair. “My dear, none of us are truly awake. We are caught in a net of sleep and dreams, which we have unconsciously woven ourselves into.”

—

Lolita kept to herself for the days following. Most days she sat in her room, staring out the large window, over the forest below. The drugs that had been administered to her daily, as part of her psychotherapy did nothing but push her in and out of consciousness. The doctor continued his perverted attempts at curing her, but nothing worked. Nothing silenced the music that quietly played on loop at the base of her skull.

When she could will herself out of her room, she made her way to the library, where she engrossed herself in literature. There was something ironic and yet comforting about getting lost in the works of Emily Dickinson, Bret Easton Ellis, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Ken Kesey.

She had her nose buried in one of JD Salinger’s works, absorbing as much as she could before the medications kicked in and left her unconsciously roaming about the halls. She was walking quickly, trying to reach her room in time, and she was so engrossed in her reading that she did not see the figure in front of her, which she walked right into with an audible thunk. The figure did not give an inch from her collision; she however, fell promptly on her backside, losing her grip on her book, which slid across the hall.

Dazed, she looked up at Eric, the biggest and roughest of Greevly’s gang.

He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, his muscular and scarred arms crossed over his chest, his long hair and beard made his facial expressions hard to read. He had been leaning against the wall, and did not bother to turn and help her up.

Greevly peered at her from the other side of Eric. His eyes quickly switched from curiosity to amusement at the sight of Lolita sitting on the floor. Greevly gave her a good look over before disappearing back behind Eric.

“And a pair of socks please,” she heard him state.

Lolita leaned towards one side, looking around Eric’s large frame. They were at the little convenience store window. The nurse behind the half window slid a pair of white ankle socks under the glass, towards Greevly, who graciously took the socks with a smile and a nod of the head.

Greevly turned back to Lolita, “well you aren’t going to make much progress going to wherever you were hurrying off to, by sitting on the floor.”

Lolita bit her lip and looked down from his gaze, embarrassed.

Greevly cocked his head to the side before picking up her book and smoothing out the pages, then gave its cover a good look. “Salinger. Good man.” He held the book out to her, and she promptly took it from him.

He raised his eyebrow, seeing no effort from her to pull herself off the floor. An amused smile crossed his lips and he sat cross-legged in front of her.

Eric shifted uncomfortably, watching the two of them on the floor.

Lolita glanced up at Greevly, then quickly down at the pair of socks in his hand.

Greevly’s smile widened as he caught her quick glance. He reached out and grabbed hold of her left ankle and gently pulled it into his lap before slipping one of the socks over her bare foot. He did so with her other foot, watching her timid stare. “You’ve been here a solid month now. No need for bare feet.”

She bit her lip as he stood and offered her a hand up. Timidly she took his hand, and he easily pulled her up. He led her down the hall to his room, and ushered her inside. Timidly, she stood in the middle of the room, staring out the far window, over the treetops.

“Zachariah is due out of the bath in five minutes. See that he returns to his room safely,” she heard Greevly mumble to Eric, before the click of the door latch closing met her ears.

Lolita tensed, hearing Greevly’s footsteps behind her. He brushed past her, moving over to he writing desk. Lolita noticed how he seemed to glide across the floor, his body barely moving in the normal fashion that one does when shifting weight from foot to foot.

He thumbed the edge of a black notebook, smiling down at it as its pages made a soft rfft sound as he thumbed them. “Lolita, they have you doing daily visits with the therapist, correct?”

She bit her lip. He needed no response. He already knew the answer.

“And do you tell the therapist about Doctor Voile’s perversions?”
She tensed.

Greevly raised an eyebrow, “is that a no?”

She chewed on her lip.

He turned his back to her, opening the small drawer to his desk. She heard him fumble about with its contents, then he stated “I’m not sure the therapist would believe you anyway. Doctor Voile has a good medical reputation, and after all, you are a ward of the most famous criminal mental institution nation wide. However, there are a few things you can do to make your stay here easier.” He turned back to her, “for starters, tongue this.” He held out his hand, in his palm was a large oval pill.

Lolita just stared at the pill, making no effort to take it from him.

“It’s a vitamin C pill. Your body does not make vitamin C, it only absorbs it from what you consume, making it impossible to overdose on these.”

Lolita looked up at him, her brow furrowed slightly.

I have a nice little prescription, giving me permission to take these as I see fit. They pose no risk to my safety or to anyone else’s, therefore, I am allowed to keep them in my room.”

Lolita timidly took the pill from him, before placing it on her tongue and swallowing the chalky thing dry.

Greevly watched her, before reaching back into the drawer. He pulled out another pill, showing it to her. He placed it on his tongue, and swallowed. “There is an art to tonguing, and you will get better with practice. The idea is not to swallow it. Simply slide it under your tongue, and hold it there. When possible, remove it. It will take time, and you will need to be able to speak without the slightest lisp, otherwise the nurses catch on fairly quickly.”

Lolita’s brow furrowed a bit more.

Greevly smiled, between his pale white front teeth was the oval pill.

Lolita’s eyebrows raised. She hadn’t notice anything in his mouth as he spoke. She thought he had swallowed it.

He swallowed again before pulling out another pill out and handing it to her. “Try it again.”

She took the pill, and put it on her tongue.

“These are bigger than most prescribed medications, so if you can tongue this, you can tongue those.”

Lolita swallowed, but quickly swished the pill under her tongue.

“They should not have you on eight hundred milligrams of Serequil. An as needed Xanax, maybe. But not Serequil.” He shut the drawer, and turned back to Lolita.

The chalky pill was starting to dissolve.

“So, Lolly,” Greevly smiled, “why don’t you tell me about Aaron Michaels, and how you stabbed him for molesting you?”

—

Her eyes grew wide, like tea saucers; cold, white porcelain that shines in the light. She was afraid, confused, and a bit angry. Her secret had surfaced, even after her futile attempts to smother it.

Her body tensed, and she turned towards the closed door. Her mind was swimming, and in her tense and frightened state, it was I that reached the door first.

My foot and hand firm on the door, she tried to pull it open, but her frail body could not muster enough strength. I looked down at her wide saucer eyes, leaning in so my face was close to her’s. “I had Josh do some digging on you. No one else knows. Now since I already know, you might as well open that pretty mouth of yours and tell me all about it, because you and I both know that there isn’t a soul else you’ll talk to.”

A flash of anger flicked in her eyes, making me smile.

She started slowly, her voice shook and was raspy from not being used. A few of her words slurred as she fumbled around the vitamin pill in her mouth. As she continued, she seemed to forget about the pill; her voice strengthened, although still a bit raspy, and her eyes lowered as she recalled what happened. Midway through, I stopped her long enough to hand her another vitamin pill, which she now tongued with ease.

When she finished, she looked up, and her brow furrowed. “Why are you smiling?”

I cocked an eyebrow, the smile on my face widening. “I’d say you’ve figured out how to tongue that pretty quick.”

Her eyes lowered.

“Lolly,” I crouched down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “thank you for talking with me. Feels better to get it off your chest, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

I stood again, and opened the door as she shuffled out. “Those meds won’t make you so sleepy now.”

---