Page 40 of In a Haze

Does he? Does he know we can’t do again what we did last night?

Before I can ask, he has another question for me. “So what else did you learn about yourself?”

“I know why I’m here. I tried to commit suicide.” Joe nods but says nothing. “I tried to overdose on pills.”

“Dublin.” The voice behind me sounds somewhat familiar. Joe lets go of my arms and I turn to see the tech who led me out of the visitor room earlier. “Time to leave.”

I turn my head back to Joe, wondering if he’s in trouble. He says to me, “See you at lunch, I guess.”

It isn’t until I watch him walk out the door that I then notice a second tech in my room, someone I’ve never seen before. No, it’s not a tech. It’s a nurse.

With a cart.

He says, “Have a seat, Anna.”

It’s not like I have a chair in here. I don’t question him, though, because he seems quite serious.

Turning, I sit on the bed and now I’m feeling nervous. The nurse says, “Hold out your arm.”

I obey, sticking out both my arms, wondering at first what’s going on until the nurse grabs a small square from the cart. He rips open a package and then dabs the crook of my arm with a tiny cloth that sterilizes my skin with alcohol.

Oh, God, no. Now I know what this means.

“What are you doing?”

The nurse then picks up the syringe and looks me straight in the eye. “You haven’t been taking your medicine, Anna.”

How the hell did they find out? Did I leave something somewhere? Did the toilets clogging this morning reveal what I’d been doing?

And how did they know it was me?

But I can’t say a word. Instead, as the needle approaches my arm, I pull back. It’s then that I understand why the tech is there, because he’s on the bed behind me, and he holds me tightly, especially my arm, and in seconds, I feel the sting of the needle entering my flesh.

Quickly followed by sleep.

*

When I awaken, I’m on a gurney. I feel groggy now. My mouth is dry; my throat is sore.

My head is pounding.

And I just want to sleep.

Soon, the tech is helping me move from the gurney into my bed and I allow myself to be cradled in deep sleep.

This is what I need.

*

When I wake up again, it’s dark.

What is that noise?

“Anna? Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Joe.”

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