Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Intake
"Spread your knees and squat." the intake nurse snapped on her rubber gloves and stood behind Hela. Hela did as instructed, the nurse patting both hands along the insides of Hela's bare thighs, with a slap slap sound. The metal detector in the background, watching them with a guillotine's eyes.
"Now go put back on your undies and these pajamas." the nurse said, brown skin tinting purple and translucent worms shooting out from her eyes. Colorless tubes in rippled streams. Hela's muscles thumped. She jumped when the worms started wrestling, twirling their bodies in braid shapes over the nurse's corneas.
"Whatta you starin' at?" the nurse glared, squeezing the eye worms into flat shapes.
"Um…I'm cold." Hela said. Which was true. The tile floors froze the sweat on the soles of her naked feet. The air conditioner vents spat snowflakes through the flickering fluorescent light. False light characteristic of institutions.
It’s like grade school, but with strip searches, Hela thought, watching a grid of hexagon shapes spread out in a net across pee-colored walls.
The nurse's latex paws thrust a pair of light blue paper pajamas in Hela's arms. Limp with submission, Hela turned to a room behind her with a wheelchair logo on the door that she suspected was either a bathroom, or a room full of wheelchairs.
"Oh wait, missy. You got a lot of cuts and scars. Come back here. I gotta write those down." the intake nurse called after Hela, pulling open a desk drawer, removing a clip board. Hela walked over to the desk and bent to study the page on which the nurse was writing H-e-l- above a human-shaped outline. Genderless, vague. It waved to Hela with it's empty arm. Her jaw locked up and her green eyes swelled big.
"Now stand up straight." the nurse demanded. Hela stiffened and aligned her vertebrae. Her large, pink nipples stuck out as if acting, puckered with exposure, nervous bubblegum, as the nurse drew an X on each part of the human outline on which Hela had a scar or a fresh slice. X X XX X on the stomach, X X X on the upper thighs, X X across the chest, X X XXXX X XX on the arms, X on the left shin.
"Bike accident when I was a kid. Fell off my bike and got my leg gorged out by a metal pole. Got stitches." Hela explained.
"Mm." the nurse responded and drew an X on the outline's left bicep. "You sho' been busy with the razors." She shook her head and clucked her teeth.
Hela looked down at her nude self. Doughy, cream flesh punctuated with shiny, pink slash scars and newer red lines crusted over in rosy scab. A red X over the rose tattoo that said "Mom" above her heart.
I'm a pink and white marshmallow zebra, Hela thought, with hexagons. The pattern, the grid, the honeycomb of hexagons that Hela had seen on the walls now netted her flesh in 6 sided divides.
"Go put yo clothes on." the nurse barked and waved to the wheelchair logo room. Hela's anus clenched with the deja-vu of being ordered into the attic closet by her master. She would wait, chained there with her arms above her head, the blood pouring down from her fingers and into her arms, draining them to chilly blueberries. She would wait there that way for days. Stomach throbbing and eyes dull from looking at only dark. She would wait there and as the endorphins tickled numb every speck of her inside, she'd bask in the lapis-blue glow of her own desperate energies, buzzing and lulling into exhaustion, chin bowing for her neck, then jerking up whenever a creak cried out from the stairs. His footsteps?
She would wait there and after she'd thought about everything obvious, like death and very young memories, she would then simply dangle and breathe and feel so safe. Locked away like a little treasure. Hovering outside her body.
And how grateful she would be when Master returned and unlocked her wrists for a while, kneading the blue out, the pink back into her palms with his thick, soft fingers. A regal smirk on his lips and a wet look in his fishbowl eyes as he watches the power he has over Hela's body. The power to deprive it, teasing death. To toy with it, take pleasure from it, his treasure well. And how grateful she would be to see him, this hot silhouette in a beam of sexual strength standing over her. Her bottom lip would sink and her tongue would slither out, silver ball in its middle gleaming at his mere reaching for the fly of his leather pants. She would take his cock in her mouth and gulp as it thrust at the back of her throat. A moan would rumble in his Adam's apple as she sucked him, harder and wetter, hoping she'd suck so hard he'd get stuck there.
Hela shut the door of the bathroom behind her.
"Don't shut that door." the nurse said. Hela pushed it back open. Slid the rough paper garment over her skin.
"What day is it?"
"July."
"How old are you?"
"20."
"Are you hallucinating right now?"
"Maybe."
"What drugs do you use?"
"Just weed."
"Do you know where you are?"
"The state hospital. In Chicago."
"Recite the ABC's backward."
"Um…Z, Y, W…er…, Z, Y, X, W…"
Hela watched her clothes and purse being dumped in a plastic storage bin.
"These are going into the vault." the intake nurse told her. "Those earrings, you gotta take them out."
Hela raised her limp and defeated wrists to unscrew the barbells in her ear lobes. She laid them to rest in the nurse's gloved palm.
"The nose one, too."
"But it isn't sharp." Hela twisted the loop in her nostril.
"Fine, fine. Leave it in."
The nurse didn't notice the metal stick in Hela's tongue.
The intake ward was a wood-paneled square room with a few chairs and some small, white observation bedrooms: mattress and camera. Hela sat in her paper pajamas, knees to chest, watching the worms wiggle jolly and fat throughout the honeycomb. They swallowed each other. Goopy fronts of large worms pried open, forcing a smaller worm inside. The honeycomb leapt from the wall and crawled closer to Hela, waving a screen of shapes that threatened to choke around her like an evil blanket.
Beyond a small counter carved in the wall sat the nurse, filling out more forms. A lanky black man in paper pajamas like Hela's limped out from a bedroom, eyes popping and pink, lips jerking in dialogue with an entity seen to none but himself. He looked over both shoulders, said "Wooooahhhh!" and thrashing his skeleton fingers against the air, spun on his slippered feet. Perhaps he saw the hexagons, too.
"Roger, vamoose!" said the nurse. And Hela giggled at the word "vamoose". Wished she had a piece of paper to write it on. The old man limped back into his room, still muttering.
A phone behind the counter rang. The nurse answered it.
"Hello? Yeah, she's here. I'll let you in."
The metal door with the sign above it that screamed, ELOPEMENT RISK. KEEP LOCKED. buzzed like an apartment door and opened to 3 security guards in brown suits.
"D North." the nurse told the guards. They marched to Hela and one clamped his hands on her forearms.
¶ 12:36 PM
"Now go put back on your undies and these pajamas." the nurse said, brown skin tinting purple and translucent worms shooting out from her eyes. Colorless tubes in rippled streams. Hela's muscles thumped. She jumped when the worms started wrestling, twirling their bodies in braid shapes over the nurse's corneas.
"Whatta you starin' at?" the nurse glared, squeezing the eye worms into flat shapes.
"Um…I'm cold." Hela said. Which was true. The tile floors froze the sweat on the soles of her naked feet. The air conditioner vents spat snowflakes through the flickering fluorescent light. False light characteristic of institutions.
It’s like grade school, but with strip searches, Hela thought, watching a grid of hexagon shapes spread out in a net across pee-colored walls.
The nurse's latex paws thrust a pair of light blue paper pajamas in Hela's arms. Limp with submission, Hela turned to a room behind her with a wheelchair logo on the door that she suspected was either a bathroom, or a room full of wheelchairs.
"Oh wait, missy. You got a lot of cuts and scars. Come back here. I gotta write those down." the intake nurse called after Hela, pulling open a desk drawer, removing a clip board. Hela walked over to the desk and bent to study the page on which the nurse was writing H-e-l- above a human-shaped outline. Genderless, vague. It waved to Hela with it's empty arm. Her jaw locked up and her green eyes swelled big.
"Now stand up straight." the nurse demanded. Hela stiffened and aligned her vertebrae. Her large, pink nipples stuck out as if acting, puckered with exposure, nervous bubblegum, as the nurse drew an X on each part of the human outline on which Hela had a scar or a fresh slice. X X XX X on the stomach, X X X on the upper thighs, X X across the chest, X X XXXX X XX on the arms, X on the left shin.
"Bike accident when I was a kid. Fell off my bike and got my leg gorged out by a metal pole. Got stitches." Hela explained.
"Mm." the nurse responded and drew an X on the outline's left bicep. "You sho' been busy with the razors." She shook her head and clucked her teeth.
Hela looked down at her nude self. Doughy, cream flesh punctuated with shiny, pink slash scars and newer red lines crusted over in rosy scab. A red X over the rose tattoo that said "Mom" above her heart.
I'm a pink and white marshmallow zebra, Hela thought, with hexagons. The pattern, the grid, the honeycomb of hexagons that Hela had seen on the walls now netted her flesh in 6 sided divides.
"Go put yo clothes on." the nurse barked and waved to the wheelchair logo room. Hela's anus clenched with the deja-vu of being ordered into the attic closet by her master. She would wait, chained there with her arms above her head, the blood pouring down from her fingers and into her arms, draining them to chilly blueberries. She would wait there that way for days. Stomach throbbing and eyes dull from looking at only dark. She would wait there and as the endorphins tickled numb every speck of her inside, she'd bask in the lapis-blue glow of her own desperate energies, buzzing and lulling into exhaustion, chin bowing for her neck, then jerking up whenever a creak cried out from the stairs. His footsteps?
She would wait there and after she'd thought about everything obvious, like death and very young memories, she would then simply dangle and breathe and feel so safe. Locked away like a little treasure. Hovering outside her body.
And how grateful she would be when Master returned and unlocked her wrists for a while, kneading the blue out, the pink back into her palms with his thick, soft fingers. A regal smirk on his lips and a wet look in his fishbowl eyes as he watches the power he has over Hela's body. The power to deprive it, teasing death. To toy with it, take pleasure from it, his treasure well. And how grateful she would be to see him, this hot silhouette in a beam of sexual strength standing over her. Her bottom lip would sink and her tongue would slither out, silver ball in its middle gleaming at his mere reaching for the fly of his leather pants. She would take his cock in her mouth and gulp as it thrust at the back of her throat. A moan would rumble in his Adam's apple as she sucked him, harder and wetter, hoping she'd suck so hard he'd get stuck there.
Hela shut the door of the bathroom behind her.
"Don't shut that door." the nurse said. Hela pushed it back open. Slid the rough paper garment over her skin.
"What day is it?"
"July."
"How old are you?"
"20."
"Are you hallucinating right now?"
"Maybe."
"What drugs do you use?"
"Just weed."
"Do you know where you are?"
"The state hospital. In Chicago."
"Recite the ABC's backward."
"Um…Z, Y, W…er…, Z, Y, X, W…"
Hela watched her clothes and purse being dumped in a plastic storage bin.
"These are going into the vault." the intake nurse told her. "Those earrings, you gotta take them out."
Hela raised her limp and defeated wrists to unscrew the barbells in her ear lobes. She laid them to rest in the nurse's gloved palm.
"The nose one, too."
"But it isn't sharp." Hela twisted the loop in her nostril.
"Fine, fine. Leave it in."
The nurse didn't notice the metal stick in Hela's tongue.
The intake ward was a wood-paneled square room with a few chairs and some small, white observation bedrooms: mattress and camera. Hela sat in her paper pajamas, knees to chest, watching the worms wiggle jolly and fat throughout the honeycomb. They swallowed each other. Goopy fronts of large worms pried open, forcing a smaller worm inside. The honeycomb leapt from the wall and crawled closer to Hela, waving a screen of shapes that threatened to choke around her like an evil blanket.
Beyond a small counter carved in the wall sat the nurse, filling out more forms. A lanky black man in paper pajamas like Hela's limped out from a bedroom, eyes popping and pink, lips jerking in dialogue with an entity seen to none but himself. He looked over both shoulders, said "Wooooahhhh!" and thrashing his skeleton fingers against the air, spun on his slippered feet. Perhaps he saw the hexagons, too.
"Roger, vamoose!" said the nurse. And Hela giggled at the word "vamoose". Wished she had a piece of paper to write it on. The old man limped back into his room, still muttering.
A phone behind the counter rang. The nurse answered it.
"Hello? Yeah, she's here. I'll let you in."
The metal door with the sign above it that screamed, ELOPEMENT RISK. KEEP LOCKED. buzzed like an apartment door and opened to 3 security guards in brown suits.
"D North." the nurse told the guards. They marched to Hela and one clamped his hands on her forearms.
¶ 12:36 PM
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