I jump and play around the park. “Margret, come along dear,” my mother beckons. “Coming mommy!” I yell and race to her side. I am breathing heavy and grinning up at her. The year is 1969 and in the park girls are jumping rope, boys are bothering the ducks in the pond, and my best friend Shadow is sitting under a tree. “Hi Shadow!” I cry happily and race away from my mother’s side. I bound over to him, my golden curls bouncing along with me. “Margret come back!” I hear my mother cry, but I pay no attention because Shadow beckons me forward. I approach Shadow who would probably scare most children, only he won’t show himself to them. His mouth looks as if it were once stitched shut and is crusty with blood, his skin has a yellow tint and eyes are empty sockets, but he’s really quite nice to me. He insists on wearing a long black robe and hood that always covers his face, but I don’t mind. “Margret get back here!” yells my mother who is racing toward me. “It’s okay mommy, I’m just talking to Shadow,” I say back, but she doesn’t listen. She picks me up and I kick and fight. “There is nothing there Margret!” shouts my mother over the sound of my shrieking. “Mommy don’t you see him? Don’t you see him mommy!” I cry.
5 Years Later
I sit up gasping and sweating. The nightmares have been getting worse; the nightmare of my mother thinking I was crazy. I glance around my cell, at least that’s what I would call it. My mother and father sent my away shortly after that day in the park. I don’t belong here, I’m not crazy I’m just different. I’ve been here for five years. I was eight when I was sent away to this stupid mental hospital, I’m thirteen now and no one calls me Margret Efferman, everyone I talk to calls me #55758. My gold curls have faded to brown straight strips and my skin looks like it has never seen sunlight. My “room” is nothing but a box lined with padding from ceiling to floor and one barred window. I sit in this box all day waiting for them to run tests on me or drill me with questions that I can’t answer.
There is a rustle from the corner and I jump. “Gosh Shadow you scared me I told you not to do that!” I whisper furiously. “Sorry,” he rasps. “How are you doing Margret?” he asks. “Awful Shadow I can’t take this anymore!” I snap. There is a harsh BAM on the wall next to me, I grunt and Shadow looks at me questioningly. “My neighbor likes to run himself into walls,” I explain. He nods and floats over to my window. “Ever thought of escaping?” he asks looking out onto the brown lawn and grey sky. “Everyday,” I sigh moving to stand beside him. I hear a door slam and Shadow drifts out of the room. I sit and wait. When he comes back all he says is “You have a new neighbor.” “Boy or girl?” I counter. “Boy, he doesn’t look crazy.” I shrug. “I guess we will find out.”
My door creaks open and a person in a white lab coat appears and I shudder and start to scoot away uncomfortably. “Number 55758?” he asks looking me once over. I nod and stand up. He guides me through the building, which all looks the same grey cinderblock. I shudder to think of what they will try on me today. “What are they going to do to me today?” I ask he tenses like I will attack him. “Blood test,” he says shortly. I shudder, blood makes me queasy, sad but true. He pushes open a heavy metal door and it groans and creaks on its hinges. The man beckons me inside and I follow. I am strapped to a table at the ankles and wrists with thick leather straps. I close my eyes as soon as I spot the needle. I pray it will be over quickly.
After the blood test I feel light-headed. I stagger back to my cage and collapse on the floor. Shadow is long gone, but there is a note sitting on the floor closest to the wall of my new neighbor. The scrap of paper reads: Why are you here? I don’t have a clue as to who sent it, or how it got in here, or how this person got paper and a pencil. I re-fold the note and stick it between two of the pad panels in my box. I will ask Shadow about it tomorrow, but right now I pray no more nightmares will find me. If whoever sent that note isn’t crazy it could be the first friend I’ve had in years (besides Shadow), but if they are crazy I won’t be surprised. The only reason I’m here is no one understands me, and maybe no one ever will. The next morning another slip of paper is on my floor it reads: Are we going to escape or not?
