LXIII | Some Tension

Nina is still threatened
by Li Wen,

I explain to Tammie.

(A noncommittal response.)

She rubs

her forehead

against
my shoulder.

I pull away.

She yelled at everyone today,
except Li Wen.

Silence.

I fall

into the depths
of Tammie’s

grey eyes.

They’re hollow one moment,

they’re full of light
the next,

they’re making me

forget

what

I’m

trying

to…

 

Tammie locks our fingers
and throws the blanket

over my head

so we’re
shrouded in

warm

sour

darkness.

There’s something wet
stroking my cheek.

It’s uncomfortable (at first).

Then, rhythmic.

Lulling.

My complaint
dies

at the back

of my throat.

 

When I wake up,

Tammie is gone.

 

 

 

In the main hall,
Nina is arguing with Asher

who refuses

to get up

and move to
his designated
armchair.

 

This is my seat.

 

He’s stubborn.

 

You’re called first
so you have to sit in front.

And so does she.

 

I’m about to

sit in the armchair
Nina tells me to

but

it’s

the one Asher’s in.

Asher notices

and waves me away.

 

Ignore her, Fiona,
just sit wherever you want.

 

I’m trapped.

Nina’s eyes
are also

threatening me.

I turn
to Tammie

for advice.

What should I do?

Tammie bites
the nail

of her thumb.

Nina crosses
her arms,

dragging Oman along awkwardly.

A loud impatient
sigh.

The door
of the asylum opens,

the nurses come in

and I am saved.

I’ve
never been
so happy

to see the nurses

before.

I take my medicine

like a good girl.

 

 

 

I’m laying scrap paper

over carpet

when Asher
storms up to me.

He helps

to lift the easel

even though
I tell him

I can do it.

His eyes soften

for a bit
and then

he’s swearing and cursing Nina.

‘That bitch
‘is actually making people

‘listen to her.’

 

Who
does she

think she is?

 

I don’t really

care
about what

Nina is doing.

So long as
she’s not yelling at me,

she’s no different

from the other weirdos
in this asylum.

But I don’t say this

to Asher.

I uncap a bottle

of blue

and mix it with the green
for a shade

that best fits

the dull sheen
cast by today’s clouds.

 

Should I paint over

yesterday’s
tree

or draw a new one today?

 

Asher

pokes his head

between
the easel and
me.

 

Be careful of her,
Fiona.

Don’t do

everything
she says.

She’s

not in charge

here.

 

I guess

it doesn’t help

to respond
neither are you

huh?

I watch Asher’s face
morph

in a series of

expressions:

Confusion,
anger,
disappointment,
pity,
passion,
defeat.

I don’t

understand
him.

I shall paint

a new tree.

Asher helps me
take a new canvas

from the storage room.

He meets
Nina

(and Oman)

on his way back
to me.

She stops him

to yell

about something he’s done
that I know nothing of.

She jabs her finger
in his face.

I notice

her nails

have grown long

in
just these few days.

 

They argue
for a long time

so I decide

to just paint over

yesterday’s tree.

 

 

 

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