"We need a stretcher in cell number B twenty-two," she said. "She's breathing, but her pulse is weak."
Kaitlynn's bedsprings creaked as she was allowed out of her submissive position. She started to cry again, the sound of her sobs muffled by her pajama sleeve.
"Don't let her die. Please, God. Please don't take her away," Kaitlynn prayed.
Ariana wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but now was obviously not the time. There was another commotion in the hallway. The room filled with emergency personnel. Someone stepped on Ariana's fingers.
"We have an attempt. Get her to the infirmary now!" Tracy ordered. "She may need her stomach pumped."
Ariana flinched. No one noticed, however, because they were too busy manhandling her onto a stretcher and elevating it until it popped up to waist level. These people needed to work on their bedside manners.
The stomach pump. She'd known it would have to happen, but hearing Tracy say it brought the reality home. The tube, the pain, the retching. Kiran had described it all to her once, and it sounded like pure hell.
But it was all part of her plan. The plan she'd been working on for too long for it to fail now. If I want to start over, I'm just going to have to
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deal with it, Ariana thought dimly as the overhead lights of the hallway began to fly by at perfect two-second intervals. Hoping that no one was watching her, she finally dared to take one deep, calming breath, fighting off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her oxygen-deprived brain, I will deal with it. My new life depends on it.
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NEXT TIME
The fingers on Ariana's wrist felt like the icy cold harbingers of death. Ariana blinked slowly, groggily. A nurse was taking her pulse. The lights above her head were ugly, caged, fluorescent, and bright. Too bright. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut again, and took a breath.Her throat burned like a pit of fire. The convulsions threw her forward and her shoulder wrenched. Coughing uncontrollably, gasping for air, Ariana rolled her eyes around and found the heavy leather straps. Her wrists and ankles had been bound to the bed.
No, no, no, no, no. Get them off of me! Get them off!Ariana wanted to scream at the startled nurse, but she couldn't even catch a breath. The memory of the stomach pumping rushed back to her. Being held down by two huge orderlies. The thick tube jammed into her throat, blocking out all air. She had tried to flail, tried to shove them off, but they had held her so firmly, like granite slabs lying on her arms and legs. She had thought she was going to die,
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and for the first time wondered what she'd been thinking. Whether this was all worth it. Then, once the awful, humiliating retching was done, she had closed her eyes and let the darkness come.
Tears spilled from Ariana's eyes and down into her ears. A woman placed her hand on Ariana's forehead and gently, but firmly, held her shoulders down. Colleen. It was Nurse Colleen. Ariana could barely make her out through the burning tears in her eyes, but this had been part of her plan--to land in the medical wing during Colleen's shift. She was the one semidecent person on the medical staff. The nurse brought a plastic cup full of cool water to Ariana's lips. Ariana gulped it down gratefully.
Everything was okay. She was right where she was supposed to be. Everything was going according to plan. Slowly her pulse started to relax.
"There you are... there you are... ," Colleen said, smoothing Ariana's brow with her fingers. The silver cross around Colleen's neck swung forward, hanging inches from Ariana's nose.
"Not a very nice way to wake up," Colleen said with a sympathetic cluck of the tongue. "That's what happens when your stomachs pumped. Your throat will be no good for a couple of days."
Ariana closed her eyes, calm spreading through her limbs. She could handle a little throat pain. The hard part was over now. In the past. It no longer mattered. This journey was all about the destination, not about the route she took to get there. All of this was happening for a reason. It was all part of her plan. She was in control--or as much as she could be, considering she was shackled like a zoo animal.
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"What happened?" Ariana asked. Because that was what a person in her position should ask. Her voice was a croak, and the burning flared up again, but not as severely.
"What happened is you tried to kill yourself," Colleen said, strapping a blood pressure gauge around Ariana's upper arm. "You took some pills, honey. But don't worry, we got them all out of your system. You're going to be okay." Colleen had a sweet, soothing voice, much like Ariana's mother's and her grandmother's. The kind Ariana would have liked to hear read a bedtime story when she was young. Colleen had age lines around her mouth and eyes, and her dark hair was graying around the temples, but Ariana could tell she had once been pretty. How she had ended up in the godforsaken Brenda T., Ariana had no idea. But then, there were a lot of people within these walls who had no business being there.
"What day is it?" Ariana whispered, already knowing the answer.
Colleen held two fingers over Ariana's wrist, taking her pulse. "Monday. July second."
Perfect. Ariana looked around the tiny, white-walled room that would be her home for the next two days. There was a huge plate glass window next to her adjustable bed, affording a perfect view of the beach at the Philmore. The sun was just starting to come up and she could see the valets in their white pants and colorful polos arranging the lounge chairs and private tents for the guests. Ariana longed to be in one of those plush rooms across the lake, rather than inside this eight-by-eight box with its antiseptic stench and totally decoration-free walls.
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Soon enough, she told herself. Just two more days. You're almost there. Almost there...
The blood pressure gauge tightened around Ariana's bicep, then deflated. Colleen made a note on her clipboard, then looked into Ariana's eyes. She seemed sad. Disappointed.