A MIND DIVIDED

Serena tossed herself on the middle of the bed, laying lazily on the muted tan blanket rightfully in its place with her flask in hand, chugging the remnants of her Jack Daniels whiskey, relishing in the heated sensation that traveled in every part of her body.

“That’s what I’m saying, Kenneth. You can’t always think about everything. Sometimes you just must be ignorant to who you’re sleeping with,” she chuckled. Serena was your typical 30-year-old drunk who had enough of a body count to give one syphilis. She was always on the hunt for her next lay and a bottle of Jack’s.

Kenneth moved from the plaid covered couch along the wall into the bedroom area and plopped down beside Serena. He was the exact opposite of Serena, a gay man who looked for intelligence in a relationship. He had an IQ of 128 and was logical about everything.

“What I’m saying is sometimes you should think before sleeping with a married woman. Unhappy or not, you’re solidifying the ruins of a civil union,” he stated sternly.

“A civil union!? HA! You’re hilarious,” Serena screamed. She brought her hand to her mouth and couldn’t help but laugh at Kenneth’s absurdities. Those two always but heads over right from wrong.

“Okay, okay, I think that’s enough, guys,” Riley added. “You two have had enough of a go at each other, which warrants me stepping in.” Standing up, Riley walked over to the pair and slapped both their heads hard enough for both to be shocked to the core.

Riley was the mediator of the group, repeatedly putting herself in between Serena and Kenneth. It was a daily ritual.

“Jeez, mom, didn’t know I was hitting a nerve. Oh, and I can’t help but notice those new marks on your arm. Going at it again, are we?” Serena harshly spats at Riley.

“It’s none of your business,” Riley exclaimed abruptly, adjusting the sleeve of her black, ruffled, long sleeve shirt. Riley, while she constantly put herself in between Kenneth and Serena’s drama, couldn’t deal with the voices in her head. She would resolve her trauma by slicing her arm, legs, or stomach. This time, there were three cuts going vertical up her arm, looking painfully enflamed, a green sort of ooze coming out of them.

“What a completely ridiculous group of friends we have, huh, Kenneth,” Serena chimed.

Aria, moving from the carpeted flooring to the mattress with the others. “Why can’t we all just get along? We’re together enough.” She was the youngest of the friend group. No one knew her intentions of having friends who were a decade or more older than her. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Serena rapidly sat up, turning to the bunch and crossing her freshly shaven legs, careful not to flash anyone. “Alright. Kenneth, Riley, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

In unison, they replied “thanks.” Kenneth adjusted his position to make more room for Riley to sit on the bed. When Riley came and sat down, she looked over at Serena and said “it’s gotten bad again – the cutting. The voice in my head tells me I’m better off dead.”

“You know you don’t have to give into those voices, Riley,” Kenneth adds. “It seems easier said than done, but at the least call me if ever you’re experiencing that kind of darkness.”

“I appreciate that, but it’s not that easy,” Riley looked down at her feet, purposefully avoiding eye contact so she wouldn’t cry.

“On another note,” Serena says, “Let’s watch a movie…you know, to get away from all this madness. It may help us all get a clear head and stop thinking for a bit.”

Agreeing, they positioned themselves in front of the television, while Aria got up to put Little Miss Sunshine on, knowing full and well that everyone could use a little laughter in their lives.

Before the previews finished, there was a knock at the door. To their surprise, a nurse in dark blue scrubs came in, holding a paper cup with pills and a cup of water on a food tray in front of her. The name “Jackie” was on her name tag.

“Hey, Margaret, it’s medication time. We didn’t see you come down, so they asked me if I could bring these to you.”

Pausing while holding the tray, the nurse looked around the room. All was in order. The twin-sized bed with the muted tan blanket folded accordingly, soft checkered slippers by the bed, a plaid covered couch along the wall, which was bolted to the ground, the television on with Little Miss Sunshine playing boisterously in the background.

“Margaret? Are you okay?” The nurse looking concerned asked.

“I’m fine,” I replied, spacing out on every word the nurse had just said. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring into space.

“Good, I’ve got your medicine here,” the nurse Jackie walked over to me, handing me the medicine cup and the water. After a long swig of water, I put the medication in my mouth and swallowed apprehensively, knowing that if I took this, my friends would be gone.

“Can you tell me what day it is?” Jackie asked.

“Thursday,” I replied.

“Who’s the president?”

“Barack Obama,” I replied, coming to terms with what was going on.

“Good,” she started, “how are you feeling right now Margaret?”

“Spacey but okay,” I added.

Grabbing the trash from my hands, Jackie said “I’ll come back to check on you in a little while. Is there anything you need?”

“I’m good.” She opened the door with it loudly slamming behind her.

Now I knew where I was: Memorial Psychiatric Hospital in Savannah. I was admitted two days ago for having a standoff with the cops after calling in that I was going to kill myself. I was armed at the time, and I pointed the gun at the cops. After they talked me down, EMS took me to the psych unit in Savannah, strapped down in their ambulance. I’ve been here since Tuesday.

My mind was clearly…divided.

Amanda Morrison is passionate about writing fantasy, contemporary romance and fiction stories, highlighting interpersonal struggles throughout. She found her love of storytelling through watching and reading The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, Game of Thrones and the Witcher series. She is a spouse to an airman in the USAF currently residing in Valdosta, Georgia, Morrison is an avid watcher of Shark Week - mainly because she wants to be prepared should she ever come face-to-face with a shark.