More recreational time.
I use this time to my advantage to study the staff member’s schedules. When they come in. When they take their breaks. Which one is on this shift and who replaces them when they’re done. I keep track of the time and pay attention to what time the doctors leave their offices to go home for the day and which orderlies and nurses do the evening strolls through the halls. I’ve even studied the lock to my cell so I’ll know how to pick it when the time comes.
During Daddy’s tyrannical rule, I had to learn to pick a lock or two. Especially if I wanted to see Damien. Yes, there was a window. And yes I climbed out of it. But there were certain days where Daddy didn’t sleep heavily. I feared the creaking and snapping sound of the window opening might be enough to wake him so I’d pick the lock on my door and sneak out the front door instead.
I’ve been watching Vivian Swell lately.
She’s my main concern.
Why?
Because she’s so on point.
There have been times where I’ve been in crazy mode, casually casting a glance in her direction while she’s leaving her office and she always catches me. Her eyes snap to me. They narrow into a suspicious glance and out of panic and fear, I quickly turn my attention toward the wall and begin to trace the shadows with my fingertip. On a few occasions, she brushed by me, offering me a cold greeting, “Adelaide.”
My response….?
I never speak, but I usually peek at her out of the corner of my eyes and nod in her direction. And a few times, I’ve even mumbled. Once, I smiled at her and started chewing on my hair. That time, she gawked at me for seconds that felt like minutes and after she walked away even I had to admit to myself that I was one step closer to the precipice of madness.
I know that I am a little nutty.
That my screws are most definitely loose.
That I’ve been cooped up and caged in for so long that I’m not sure when or if I’ll ever know what it’s like to be free again.
I’m afraid that I’ll start to forget what it feels like for the wind to whip through my hair.
That I won’t remember what it’s like to feel the warmth from the sun on my cheeks.
I tuck those thoughts away for now and remind myself that I need to uncover the mystery of my past before focusing on anything else. I’m hoping that once I do then I can finally focus on the one thing that I’ve been wanting to do since I arrived here a second time.
And that is…
To set myself free.
Chapter Eleven
~Before~
I know Elijah had reservations about becoming a father. I know that most of his reservations stem from the fact that he had an awful, awful relationship with his own father. He never goes into too much detail involving their relationship, but I remember one story in particular when Elijah mentioned his father locking him in his bedroom for twenty-four hours without feeding him or letting him out to use the restroom. After hearing that story, I never inquired about his relationship with his father again.
But, even though Elijah had doubts about becoming a parent, I never did.
I always believed that despite his terrifying childhood that he would make a good father.
And I was right.
I watch him a lot.
When he’s with Willow.
He doesn’t know I’m watching, but I always peek into the nursery when he’s in there. He’s so careful and soft and I never thought I’d ever be able to say that ‘being soft’ was a part of my husband’s nature, but Willow seemed to change something in him.
Sometimes, I think that the life I’m living now is an illusion.
I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
I am a mother.