Page 112 of Vita Mia

“I told you,” her mother whispered.

“Yea, whatever, you don’t fucking exist,” Marietta mumbled.

She turned left but was ordered to go right. That was different. There hadn’t been any liberties given to her in months. Not since she beat up a patient who had taken the remote control from her and changed the channel from a program she watched. Violence erupted from her like an overactive volcano. It exploded everywhere. She jumped on the woman and slammed her head on the concrete floor until she cracked her skull. All of it happened within seconds before she was pulled off of her, strapped to her bed and injected with enough drugs that she was unconscious for twenty-two hours. It scared her. The control they had over her, scared her. So, she found a way to fight back. She wasn’t going to let them poison her and take her dreams away.

“There!” The nurse said.

She glanced to her jailer and then to the door. It was the office of the Medical Director. She’d never been inside his office. In fact, she never met him directly, only two or three times had she seen him from afar.

“Go!”

“It’s coming,” her mother warned and stood before the door staring at it. Marietta frowned at her mother. The zombie like behavior felt out of place for her. But the tingles in her belly and nervousness capturing her breath made her sense something. And she feared it. Her mother looked back at her. Her mother smiled. “It’s time.”

“Time for what, you crazy witch?”

“Who the fuck are you calling crazy!” The nurse said and shoved Marietta from behind. She stumbled. She held back on her anger and went to the door and opened it. Whatever was inside couldn’t be worse than the hell she suffered now. She walked in. Seated on the desk wasn’t the Director or even that bastard Générale who locked her away.

“What are you doing here?” she asked of her visitor.

“CiaoMarietta. Do you remember me?”

Her hair was blonde now but she’d never forget her face. How many times had she heard stories of Fabiana from Lorenzo and Mirabella? She had to put her foot down with her sister and have her move the painting she’d done of Fabiana to the attic space on the third level of Melanzana. She knew all of her enemies. And this bitch had a lot of nerve coming back from hell to torment her.

“I know you!” Marietta pointed a finger at her. She shouted the words and spittle flew from her lips: “You’re dead, bitch! Dead! Why are you here? Is Lorenzo in hell with you? Is that why you’re here! To tell me my husband is in hell with you! Instead of here with me!”

The nurse in the room stepped forward with her baton. They used it in Maddalena to knock patients on their backs and stun them. The doctor raised her hand for the staff to stay away. “Dead? I’m not dead. I’m here to help you.”

Marietta frowned.

“I’m Dr. Sera Marchetti. Remember? I was Mirabella’s doctor after her kidnapping.”

“Doctor?” Marietta remembered the doctor that looked like Fabiana. The one Lorenzo pretended not to notice. “Dr. Sera Marchetti?” Marietta repeated.

“That’s right. I asked to speak in here because, uh, I know they don’t have this office under surveillance. Everything else in this place is.”

“Why should we speak?”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Fuck you! No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know? Do you?”

“Know what? That you’re some Battaglia cunt here to fuck with my head? To take Lorenza from me. To keep Lorenzo trapped in hell?”

“You’ve been in her too long Marietta.”

Marietta scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Too long to see that I’m here to help,” the doctor smiled.

“Fuck you.”

“Bring her some food. A sandwich and tea. Something. Now.”

The nurse nodded and walked out.

“Marietta have a seat.”

---