Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,4

my pillow.

He doesn’t reply. It’s useless for me to turn around; I know he’s already gone.

The voices become so loud that my ears are humming now. They’re so loud, almost as if they’re trying to claw their way out of my mind.

I close my eyes and groan. I’m starting to realize that there’s something about this place that renders people useless. It steals your soul and your identity.

I want to tell him just that, but when I turn around he’s gone.

But he’ll be back. He never leaves my side for too long.

There’s a good chance I’m going crazy. But there’s an even better chance that if I don’t get the voices to stop, they’ll grow bigger and devour me whole.

At the very thought, panic sets in, curling around my body. My eyes close and the voices in my head become amplified. But there’s one that’s louder, until it’s practically screaming at me. It cuts through the barrier. Words wrap around my heart. They do their job right and very quickly I feel my fear dissipate.

My lips part and whisper the words softly against my pillow: Hold your breath and count to ten. Soon it will be over before it ever began…hold your breath and count to ten. Soon it will be over before it ever began hold your breath and count to ten. Soon it will be over before it ever began…

“Victoria…”

Somebody shakes my shoulder none too gently. My eyes flash open and I stare into a pair of cold green eyes.

Alice, the day nurse, removes her hand from me as though I’m dirty. “Time to wake up.”

Of all the nurses at Fairfax, Alice is by far the worst. From day one she’s been out for me. She’s uncaring—devoid of emotions. How she’s remained here for so long is beyond me.

“You missed breakfast,” she says, her tone almost gleeful.

Instantly, I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I never oversleep. Ever. I like to be up and dressed before the nurses make their morning rounds. “You didn’t knock on my door.”

Alice looks at me with barely disguised disgust. “Yes, I did. You never responded.”

My eyes narrow.

Liar.

Alice has one tone—patronizing—and an arsenal of three different facial expressions: anger, disgust, and contempt. She treats most patients with hostility, but I swear she takes a particular interest in trying to tear me down. I’m probably the most harmless person here, but you’d never know from the looks she shoots my way.

“I don’t trust you,” her dull green eyes whisper. “Stay far away from me.”

“Besides,” she continues, “you’ve been here long enough to know when breakfast is.”

Another cup is thrust at me. This time there’s only one pill to swallow, but Alice is much more thorough than Kate. She peers carefully in my mouth, turning my jaw left and right as if I’m a doll.

I’m seconds away from choking on the pill when she finally steps back. Her eyes flick briefly to Evelyn’s crib. “Get dressed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As she walks away I hear her mutter underneath her breath: “This is no place for a baby.”

The minute the door slams, I jump out of bed and store the pill in my hiding spot. Turning, I glance around my room for remnants of Wes’s visit last night.

I dressed up just for him. I glance down at my pajamas and realize that I don’t remember changing. I run to the small closet in the corner. My dress hangs on the hanger. Right below it are my heels.

As I change, I think of last night. It felt too real to be a dream. Of that I’m sure. But I have no solid proof to back me up.

I go to the bathroom and wash my face. When I lift my head, I stare at my reflection. Now would be a good time to cover up the shadows underneath my eyes with concealer and swipe some blush across my cheeks for some color.

But I can’t seem to do it. The whole process feels fraudulent, as though I’m trying to wear someone else’s skin. No matter how hard I try to make it mine, it just doesn’t fit right.

I don’t know what makes me me anymore.

Evelyn cries out. I hurry out of the bathroom, and peer into her bassinet.

She’s swaddled tight, but her hands are in tiny little fists as she stretches. It’s fascinating that something so small can have such a powerful impact on me. With one smile she can obliterate my