Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Sadie

Prologue

Have you ever heard the sound of insanity? I have. It’s not, as some people would think, a madman screaming off into the distance or the sobs from a man about to commit suicide. The sound of inanity is the sound of a pen scratching on paper, crossing a “t” or looping a “y”, until you realize they’re writing the same thing over and over. It’s the sound of a bubbling laugh pouring out from the very soul that is shunned and looked down upon by Those Who Know Best when it refuses to be silenced. It’s the sound you can’t really hear at all, only sense, when you see yourself walking up to the ugliest God-forbidden yellow basket in the cafeteria and taking a knife, pretending it’s to cut your baked potato, when you’re really planning to use it to use it to cut your skin.

“What the hell is she doing now?”

“Is she mad at us?”

“Hey, are you mad me?”

YES, I answer in my head, I’m mad at ALL of you for no rational reason. I’m done trying to be rational. I’m mad at you because I WANT TO BE.

“Sadie? Please talk to us?”

NO, I reply in my head. Why do you think you deserve for me to talk to you?

“Sadie, why won’t you talk to us?”

I don’t even dignify that one with a response.

“We’re all in this together, hon.”

I try not to flinch as Sandra calls me “hon”. She reaches out to touch my arm but I move myself away.

“Sadie…” I swear, if they say my name one more time… “We know what you’re going through. We’re gone though it, too.”

I could have broken down then. I could have screamed and cried my life away then made them happy, made them relieved. But I don’t really care about how they feel anymore. I calmly picked up my book and walked out of the cafeteria. Overtaken by an unrelenting urge in me, it’s as if I glided through that doorway and left behind my need to please along with the sad faces of those broken girls. Yet when people look into my eyes, mirroring my soul, all they will see is themselves, and call me insane.

My room is white. I don’t know why people think white is a positive color because all it does to me is make me sick. Everything in this place makes me sick. I even get sick as I look out the window. A girl and boy, standing on the sidewalk, pulled into one of those long, sweet kisses that makes you look away because it seems too private and beautiful for an outsider to witness. They disgust me…what do they think they’re playing at, making out in front of an asylum? Couldn’t someone arrest them for that? Couldn’t someone DO something? I bet their parents didn’t mind that they were dating. I bet if they had any problems it would be over something stupid like attending colleges far, far away or that the parents just didn’t understand what they saw in each other. I realize for a moment that this sounds like my life, and at the same time completely different. My parents don’t understand what I see in Alana, but that kind of situation can’t end in a romantic fairy-tale ending where the princess and the prince get happily married…because it’s more like the princess and the peasant. I am the peasant.

“Sadie?”

Oh God.

“Sadie, you know you’re not allowed to leave the cafeteria before lunch is over.”

This place is a prison.

“I have to be here to supervise you now.”

“Why? I say aloud. “It’s not like I can do anything here.”

“ I know your type,” she sighs. “You always find something. Just last week we caught Linda with a knife from the cafeteria.”

My throat catches with fear. “Obviously you don’t know my type.”

“Why do you think you’re so different?” she hisses. “How do you know you’re not like the rest of them?”

I turn a round and look at her in the eye. “Because I’m not crazy.”

She sighs again. “Look,” she says, “I’m gonna go read my book by the doorway. You just amuse yourself, okay? Stay out of trouble and I won’t give you any grief.”

I don’t nod, I just turn away. I never nod to anyone here, because nodding is a sign of agreement. And I don’t agree with anything here. I wander over the window again and notice that the couple are gone. I think about opening it, feeling the cool wind against my face, breathing free air. I think about jumping out. And then I remember that the windows are cemented closed. I pull the shade down and glance over at that stupid supervisor, reading her book. And I hate everyone.


“You have a visitor, Sadie.”

And then I hated her for that. Why couldn’t she just get it over with and tell me my mother was here? Why couldn’t she just come in and say, “Sadie, your mother just pulled up. She looks nervous and she’s cried all her powder off, so be careful what you say. Also, she brought your sister along, so don’t be rude or say anything worse than ‘stop it’.” But then I suppose I would have hated her for talking so much.

“I don’t want to see them.”

The lady looked surprised. She had these thin little lies for eyebrows, and it was only every time she raised them that one would notice she had eyebrows at all. “Don’t you even want to know who it is?”

“Not really.”

“She really wants to see you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The lady sighed as she thought of a comeback.

“Sadie?” I heard a voice I had missed since the day I was imprisoned here.

My eyes flew open and I saw the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Alana,” I gasped, not aware that tears had filled my eyes. I stood up as she ran towards me and threw her arms around me.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Oh my God, don’t you ever scare me like that again. Don’t you ever!”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, “I don’t know what happened.”

I had always imagined the love of my life someday running towards me and taking me in their arms, but I never thought it would be in the lounge at a psychiatric ward. The lady finally showed us to my room, and we sat on my bed uncomfortably. Neither of us knew what to say then, and we couldn’t look at each other. Finally, I spoke.

“Does you mom know you’re here?”

Alana shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it.

“What?”

She laughed a little, “I was just thinking of asking you if your mom knew you were here, but then I remembered.” She looked up at me. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

The depth of her eyes nearly knocked me out. They were hypnotic.

“Yeah,” I shrugged, and tried to smile. “The reason I’m he re in the first place is because of stupidity.”

“What?” Alan said incredulously. “I didn’t say you were stupid…”

“Neither did I,” I snapped. Alana looked at her hands. “I’m sorry,” I sighed. “This whole ordeal just pisses me off. I shouldn’t be here.”

She reached out and took my hand. “I know,” she spoke softly. “But don’t worry, we’ll get you out soon.”

SOON ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH, I screamed in my head, but my mouth kept silent. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She pulled me in closer and hugged me.

“I’m sorry,” she kept talking. I wished she would stop… “I know how you must feel…”

“What?!?” I exclaimed, a sudden furious wave of rage sweeping over me.

I pulled away from her and knocked her hand away as she tried to take mine. “What do you mean?”

Alana looked startled. “I…I only meant that…”

“No!” I cried. “Why does everyone say that?”

“Sadie…”

“You do not tell me how I do or do not feel!”

Abashed, she turned away. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Sadie. I was only trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t!” I knew I should have let it go, but I was too stubborn. “I think you should leave. Now.”

My fury overlooked the tears gleaming in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered, and slowly got off the bed. The last thing I saw of her was her back.

That night, I took the flimsy plastic knife into the bathroom with me, locked myself in the stall, and pushed down on my arm as hard as I could. I never let up, even though it hurt like hell. I just went over and over, in the same spot, over and over until I saw little dots of blood and I was exhausted. It was good enough.


It wasn’t until a week later that they brought me her letter. She had written to me, only me, not even her parents or her sister. This is it, she said. This is what they have driven me to. Just know that I love you. I will wait for you in Heaven.

If you have enjoyed Malise Adair's "Sadie", then please be certain to e-mail her at  semi_circle09[at]hotmail.com  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of Malise Adair's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.

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