A Danger to Herself and Others by Alyssa Sheinmel

Author:Alyssa Sheinmel [Sheinmel, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - YA, Kids, Teen, General Fiction, Love and Romance
ISBN: 9781492667247
Google: z1ZvDwAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2019-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Seven

I can’t sleep. If I complain, they’ll probably give me sleeping pills. I’m surprised they haven’t already. In the movies, patients in places like this always take pills. Pills in the morning, pills at night, pills at random hours in between. Blue pills, yellow pills, white pills. Chalky pills and long slim capsules. Pills to take on an empty stomach. Pills to take with food.

In the cafeteria at lunchtime (back when I still had cafeteria privileges), I watched orderlies distribute pills in little, white paper cups to some of the patients. Some girls had to open their mouths and stick out their tongues to prove they swallowed.

If someone refused to take her pills, the orderly stood over her with his hands on his hips.

If she still refused, the orderly reminded her that they could give her an injectable dose of the drug instead.

If she continued to refuse—the orderlies would sigh as if to say, Why can’t these girls see reason? A pill is so much less invasive than a shot—then the girl was led away, sometimes peacefully, sometimes kicking and screaming.

The orderlies don’t understand that a pill can be more invasive than a shot. Taking the pill implies that it’s your choice. Willingness to swallow what they hand you suggests that you agree with them: There’s something wrong with you; you need to take your medicine.

If they force a shot on you, at least you’re taking a stand. At least they haven’t made you believe there’s something wrong with you.

“What’s the matter?” Lucy mutters from her side of the room.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“With all that tossing and turning over there?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“No kidding.” Lucy rolls over to face me, the rise of her hip silhouetted in the darkness. “Why not?”

Agnes and I used to do this. I mean, not this, not being locked in a room unable to control whether the lights were on and off. But we’d stay up nights, talking in the dark when everyone else was asleep.

What’s it like to be an only child?

Dunno. I’ve never been anything else.

Me either. I mean, I’ve never been an only child.

That’s not true. You were an only child for four years before your little sister was born.

Agnes has two little sisters, Cara (four years younger than Agnes and me) and Lizzy (seven years younger than Agnes and me).

Wait, proper grammar. Cara is four years younger than Agnes and I.

I don’t remember what it felt like to be the only kid in the house.

C’mon, you must remember something.

Agnes closed her eyes. It was too dark for me to see the patch of freckles behind her ear, but I imagined her hair falling across it. I remember climbing into my parents’ bed after I had a bad dream. Right in between them.

You never did that after your sister was born?

She slept in their room at first. I couldn’t risk waking the baby.

Her voice sounded different. She’d had to become so selfless at four years old, had to train herself not to cry if she had a bad dream because it might disturb her baby sister.

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