Tuesday Tales prompt word is: BRIDGE
Laying on the bed in a semi-unconscience state but most definitely high from all the medication that was given to her, Donna stared down at the paper that was still on the floor. Russell had finished up with her and left for the night. Now all she had to do was will herself enough to get up and grab the piece of paper off the floor so she could read it.
Her mouth and throat were becoming dry from the affects of psychotropicdrugs and the room was starting to whirl around her. Closing her eyes she found herself drifting in and out. She began licking her lips to try to recover some type of moistness and whispered "no, get up" as if willing herself into alertness. She would not allow another night to end as many had before.
Her body had a mind of its own she thought to herself needing to take control again. Not remembering when the last time she actually had control, but knowing there was once a time where she was complete. Forcing herself in a sitting position she grabbed hold of the cold metal sides of the institutional bedframe. She sat for a few seconds or maybe minutes she couldn't rightfully say, breathing slowly in and out. She stood up, releasing a trinkle of urine. She stumbled over to the piece of paper and knelt down carefully to pick it up. She didn't want to fall or pass out from quick movements.
Standing erect again she went into the bathroom and turned the light on while closing the door. She knew no one would come back in the room once Russell had been there. Most patient's were heavily medicated at night so they wouldn't wander the halls or do anything for that matter. She recalled the many times the dayshift would complain about all the changing of sheets from bedwetting that needed to be done. Donna was now mindful of the lifestyle she was reduced to and anger began to consume her.
She opened up the paper and read:
You do not know me but I know you!
I was one of your father's confidants and he knew he was in danger before his untimely death. He loved you more than words could ever express. And because of this he entrusted me with funds for you, but first you must find a way to get out.
Your husband, Charles Right, is not dead. He somehow was able to recover from his mortal wounds. Unfortunately, in order to obtain your vast fortune he had to have you labeled incompitent and that is why you are now there. I will fill you in more when the time is right. I will find you no matter where you go and what you do. It is my mission and obligation. Keep strong, you DID NOT KILL YOUR FATHER, nor did you hurt anyone.
Remember who you are.
She stood from the toilet seat and looked into the mirror over the sink. She was very pale from lack of sunlight. But she could still see herself, who she really was. She was no murderer. She was not insane. She closed her eyes to concentrate and remember what happened that landed her in hell. And as she walked the bridge of her sanity she opened her eyes and said; "Charles"
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©2012 Tales from Tai Vicari
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