In Search of Forever

By Obsessedtwibrarian

Chapter 1: Admittance

"Just a few more questions." The man spoke tiredly as he shuffled the papers in his hands. The heat in the small, colorless room was suffocating. The man reached up and unthinkingly brushed his hand across his sweating forehead before continuing with his interminable questions.

A slight woman, with long, dark hair pinned up in a chignon, sat primly in the stiff wooden chair across from the man and his battered wooden desk. She held a tiny girl on her lap. The girl's head lay on her shoulder, and her tiny hands were clutched to the sleeves of the woman's dress. The woman's husband sat hunched over beside her in his own stiff chair, looking at the floor, and nervously turning his brown, felt hat in his hands repeatedly.

"Is the patient addicted to the intemperate use of intoxicating liquors, tobacco, morphine, cocaine or other injurious drugs? The man looked with disinterest at the woman, waiting for the answer he already knew.

"No." The woman's whisper was barely audible even in the stillness of the small room.

The man scratched the short answer onto the paper and then continued.

"Is the patient affected by paralysis, dropsy, blindness, deafness, or dumbness?"

"No." the woman whispered.

"Does the patient suffer from hysteria, insomnia, tuberculosis, or pellagra?"

"No."

"Does the patient suffer from uterine or pelvic disorders? Is the patient pregnant?" The man's voice was monotone and flat.

"No…and no." The woman's voice was filled with irony as she wondered how he could ask something so ridiculous.

"Is the patient violent or destructive?" The man continued, seemingly unaware of the stupidity of his questions.

"No." The woman sighed.

"Does the patient talk to himself, assume peculiar attitudes, or hear voices?"

"No." The woman's patience with the questions was nearing an end. She wondered why all these inane questions were even necessary. None pertained to them.

The man must have wondered the same thing at the exact same time. He stopped writing, and looked at the well-dressed man and woman sitting before him, holding their equally well-dressed child.

He cleared his throat, laid down his pencil, clasped his hands together under his chin for a few moments, and then laid them on the scarred desk, before finally meeting the woman's sad, green eyes.

"May I ask…why is the patient being admitted to this hospital?"

The woman hesitated. She looked over at her husband, waiting for him to answer, but he sat still hunched over, gazing at the floor, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. She suddenly grew angry at his apparent disinterest. Many nights of violent fights between the two of them had resulted in his insistence upon hospitalization. Crying, pleading and even screaming had failed to move him from his decision. And now he was retreating from them- from his wife…and from his child. The woman wondered when the loving and kind man she had married had turned into a coward.

"She has premonitions." The woman answered in a strong voice.

"Premonitions?" The man sat up straight with interest. His eyes registered their doubt.

"Yes. Premonitions. Visions. She sees events that are going to happen in the future." The woman spoke proudly. She wanted both of the men in the room—this disinterested stranger…and her husband- to know that her child was not a freak!

The man scratched words onto his paper at great length. Then he turned the paper around and pushed it toward the woman. He summarized, in a bored tone, the contents of the official document.

"Both of your signatures are required. Please understand that, by signing these papers, you are releasing your daughter to the permanent care of Biloxi State Mental Hospital. A doctor will be assigned to your daughter's case, and he will make an evaluation to determine what course of treatment will be needed to cure her of her….ailment. You waive all rights to decisions regarding her future care and treatment. You are, of course, allowed to visit your daughter any time you wish. But visits must be prearranged with her doctor. If, at any time, you wish to remove your daughter from our care, you must make arrangements to speak with her doctor first before moving forward with any discharge procedures. If her doctor feels that release would be detrimental to your daughter's treatment, he, as a representative of this hospital, can refuse discharge."

The man hesitated before continuing. He wondered why the husband had been so silent during the entire process. But he quickly dismissed his curiosity. It was of no great interest to him.

Do you have any questions before you sign?"

There was an interminable silence in the small room. The woman didn't want to sign her name to the paper. She didn't want to give her tiny, helpless daughter over to these uncaring strangers. She searched her mind frantically for some way to get out of this. But she knew it was hopeless. The decision had been made. It was out of her control.

"No. We understand." The husband spoke for the first time, his voice low, but forceful. He sat up straight and gazed over at his wife. There was sadness in his eyes, but his expression was determined. The decision weighed heavily on him…but such was the plight of a husband and father. He had to do what he thought was best for the family.

"Then…will you please sign your full names at the bottom of the page." The man was relieved that the admitting process was nearly at an end. He was late for dinner once again.

After the signatures had been secured, the man left the room, promising to return shortly with a nurse.

The woman pulled her daughter from her embrace and helped her to stand. She lovingly adjusted her dress, stroked her hair and smiled. The child looked back, wide-eyed and frightened. She started forward to wrap her arms around her mother's legs, but her mother gently stopped her.

"Now…now…." The woman spoke in a soft, soothing voice as she bent over her child.

"A young lady always stands regal and straight, poised and smiling, for her gentleman she waits…remember?" The woman fought back tears as she recited the familiar rhyme to her daughter.

The little girl looked back at her mother. She straightened her little back, pulled up her chin, dropped her hands to her side, palms against her dress, and smiled a small trembling smile.

"Always remember…we love you. Never forget that…no matter what happens." The woman was fighting desperately to hold back her grief. She wanted to be strong and not frighten her child. Her arms already ached with an emptiness she knew would never be filled.

Her husband finally stood, and squatted down before his daughter. He looked into her eyes, and then pulled her into his large arms. He hugged her tightly, knowing this was probably the last time he would ever see her. He broke the embrace finally, and spoke not a word. What could he say? The decision had been made. The papers were signed.

Then the man returned, along with a nurse, to take the little girl to her room and get her settled for the night. The man and woman watched as the nurse took their daughter's small hand in hers and turned to leave the room.

The little girl looked back once, her eyes filled with fear.

"Regal and straight." The woman reminded her once more, as she fought the urge to scoop her daughter up into her arms and run as fast as she could out of this horrid building.

The little girl stood up straight once again, pulled up her chin and turned back around, never to see her parents again.

"What's your name, child?" The nurse was looking down at the little girl with a smile that looked pasted on.

"Alice." The little girl whispered her name as she looked straight ahead to a scary and uncertain future.

To be continued *