XXIII | Some Things Forgotten
❦
Family…
That’s right…
I have
a family.
In my recollection
of the happiness sandwich,
my mother was there.
That means
there’s a father too.
(I can’t remember
his face.)
Family…
Why do I
suddenly
want to cry?
A hazy picture
comes to mind.
We’re at a HDB playground,
I’m calling for Mummy
at the top of my lungs.
Beside me,
at the top
of the largest slide,
someone smaller than me
is stamping his feet,
repeating my call.
Hands filled with grocery bags,
she’s distracted
talking to Papa.
We call louder,
my brother and I.
Until
they turn to watch us
slide down together
at the same time
backwards.
Then we’re running,
towards them,
into them.
Did you see? Did you see?
We sing,
dancing and jumping,
like we’ve climbed
Mount Everest.
They were warm,
those eyes
that look like mine.
Four, I say.
There are four of us.
The doctor
stares at me
motionless,
like a CCTV.
Were.
There were four of you.
I stare
back at her,
uncomprehending.
She shuffles
the papers
in front of her
before she speaks again.
You hurt your brother
when you had one of your episodes.
‘What episodes?’
He was in the ICU for three days
before he died.
I open my mouth
to accuse her of conspiracy
but there’s a blankness in my mind
where memories should be
whispering,
It’s true.
The doctor
looks down at her papers
as she continues
reciting
accusations against me.
That was the incident
that made this your new home.
But it’s not
the only incident.
You locked your friends in a cupboard,
called the police to report aliens and
wandered along highways at night instead of going home.
Last year,
you stopped going to school.
She pauses here
to let the paper drop onto the table.
Her hands meet
and fold into each other.
Her eyes soften.
There’s no conspiracy, Fiona.
You’re here because
you have
schizophrenia.
After what happened, they’re scared
so you’ll be taken care of here
for the rest of your life.
Just accept it.
❦
Tammie puts her face close to mine
so I can’t keep ignoring her.
Her sour breath
makes me flinch
and scowl.
She moves so the stench is more bearable.
Do you really not remember anything?
We’re in my bedroom,
inside the asylum.
It’s not 9pm
but I’m being fed
new medicine
that makes me drowsy
so they made an exception
and opened my room
for me to lie down whenever.
I decide
I’m just going to lie here
forever.
Tammie
comes to see me
often
and we talk,
ignoring the two nurses
who have become
my shadows once more.
I shake my head
as she bounces
on the edge of my bed
like a restless bunny.
She smiles,
apologetic.
As if
that makes it better.
As if
by apologising,
it’ll
make
my memories come back,
my problems go away.
‘Killing someone,’
I choke on my words.
Tammie’s getting blurry
in front of me.
‘How can I forget something like that?’
Tears fall from my eyes.
Tammie remains
blurry.
‘Being able to tell what’s real
‘is my human right.’
Strange noises
are coming
from my mouth, my throat.
A wailing sort of sound.
The rancid smell of vomit
engulfs me
but my chest is heaving so hard
it’s
comforting
to have Tammie pressed up
against me.
Hands around my waist.
Chin digging into my shoulder.
Breath in my ear,
humming,
then singing.
Blood is shed for a reason,
we’ll never get along.
Just leave me for a season,
we’ll turn into a song.
Don’t worry Fifi,
nothing’s gone wrong.
❦
