Grandiose 9

Kauffman came into my room briefly this morning with Demetrius and a new orderly.  They dragged me to the seclusion room on the third floor. I screamed all the way there. It was not a great place to be, well for me that is. I hated being in the dark. I dreaded going there again.

The third floor had dimmer lights than the rest of the building; that’s where they kept the psychopaths-the morbidly deranged. I heard them scream in madness all those dark souls and for a moment I thought I would join them. I refused to succumb to their madness. Image

            “Hey little girl, come back and play!” a convicted serial killer laughed. Demetrius and the new orderly forced me to walk faster. We reach the steel door that requires 6 gold plated bolts to keep it secure.  It was a small dark room with black walls and one light bulb that flickered all the time. The walls were covered with disturbing art from the other patients who had been exiled there. There were even stories of patients dying there and ghosts haunting the room.  I beg Kauffman to reconsider but he ignores me. I cry hysterically.

Demetrius and the new orderly try to pull me in but I hang on to the door like a 5 year old.

            “No!” I scream. They are pulling me from my legs now and I’m holding on to the side of the door for my dear life. Kauffman begins to pry my fingers off the door and I am pulled into the room, defeated. I curl into a fetal position at the back left corner of the room and shiver.

            “This is not a punishment. I am really trying to help you” I hear Kauffman say but am too busy crying to even acknowledge him. Kauffman leaves a few blank white pages and a box of crayons on an old wood student desk in the middle of the room. He tells me he wants me to draw something and heads out the room with Demetrius and the new orderly. The closing of the door as the bolts clank in place makes me even more delirious. The fact that he didn’t tell me how long I would be in there causes me to hyperventilate.

The only light bulb in the room starts to flicker, elevating my forthcoming panic attack. I remain in the corner not moving one bit. Somehow I fall asleep for a while; don’t know how long, though. There are no windows in this room or a clock, so I am oblivious to time here as well.

Before Kauffman had left, he had placed an old tape player on the student desk to play both Beethoven and Mozart. I suppose the music calmed me down. After waking up the first time, I began to cry again, realizing it was not a dream. I was actually in that room in the dark with just a glimmer of light from the incessantly flickering bulb in the middle of the room. I cried and cried for hours, begging for someone to let me out. No one came.  All that crying made me sleepy again. I went back to sleep for a second time. I don’t know for how long I slept that time either.

When I awoke, I begrudgingly crawled my way to the student desk and pulled myself onto the chair. It creaked and rocked from my weight. I considered my options. Perhaps Kauffman was watching me through a camera in the room and if I didn’t do what he said I would stay in here forever. I stared at the art on the wall in front of me created by past patients, most of which depicted suicide and other disturbing images. The ones who used a lot of the black and red crayons were the broken souls on this floor. There were a few rainbows and happy faces but only a few.

I think about what to draw, scratching my head with a blue crayon. I decide to look at the art on the wall instead as I slip out of the chair and make my way towards them. So much pain on these walls, I think to myself. Like I said beforehand, many of these cried out their suicidal tendencies. The more deranged ones drew dark images of a homicidal nature. Then there were the ones who just wanted to go home, like a patient named Emily, who drew a picture of her family.

It was the typical family picture a kindergartener would draw; a house with a white picket fence with the whole family lined up in front, smiling. There was also a dog there too. She even wrote the words, “I want to go home” in the green grass in black crayon. Emily had a personality disorder. She had murdered her whole family with a machete seven years ago on Christmas Eve. They never figured out why.

Tears streamed down my face as I slipped my hand through all the artwork, feeling all their pain. I went back to the chair and sat there, just staring at the blank pages on the table. I thought about Henry and what Demetrius had said. He had seen him too.

“That’s it!” I exclaimed.  I decided to draw a portrait of Henry so I could show it to Demetrius and confirm my story to Kauffman. Then he would see that I wasn’t crazy. A few minutes into the sketch, I hear the door unbolt and in comes a tall skinny blonde hair nurse with my lunch. It’s only lunch! I thought I had been in there for hours. The nurse smiles at me and places the tray of food to my right side. I smile at her for not covering my drawing with the tray. I guess some people still have manners.

I barely touch the food because all I want is to finish my perfect portrait of Henry. I make sure to accurately emphasize on his deep blue warm eyes, blonde hair, strong jaw and full lips. When I am done, I trace my fingers on his lips, pretending he is there with me. More hours pass by and I fall asleep once more. The door opens a few hours later, jolting me up from my sleep to see Kauffman walk in.

He doesn’t talk to me as he grabs for my sketch of Henry. He looks at it for a few seconds with a stern look upon his face, and then calls for Demetrius who is told to take me to the cafeteria for dinner. Kauffman was being cold to me and I didn’t know why. Then the strangest thing happened, Demetrius smiled at me. I was taken aback by this because he never smiled. I found this rather peculiar.

I didn’t feel much like eating. Knowing my chances were slim, I asked Demetrius if he could let me hang out in the community room instead. He of course, said no at first. It was forbidden to miss a meal because they gave us our medication with it. A few moments later, Demetrius, to my surprise, changed route whispering the following into my ear.

            “Only this time” he said as we made our way to the other side of the building back down stairs to the main floor. We walked through the long empty hallways in silence. I stared at the floor as I walked. I wasn’t particularly happy after spending most of the day locked up in a dark room.

About 20 minutes later, we reached the dark green doors of the community room. It was empty with the exception of the attending nurse who was enclosed in an office with glass walls. She looked at Demetrius who gave her a non-verbal sign which she acknowledged in agreement by nodding her head.

The community room was filled with vintage chairs, sofas and TV’s. The walls were covered in an out-dated floral wallpaper. It was like you were being transported back to the 70s. I made my way to a leprechaun green sofa that faced the largest of the four TV’s in the room. I didn’t bother to turn it on, I just stared at the dark screen. Demetrius went over to chat up the nurse, always having a watchful eye on me, though. I curled up on the sofa, my eyes growing heavy and falling asleep once again.

During my short nap, I had a nightmare or maybe it was a flashback. I couldn’t really be sure. I was holding a knife and was covered in blood. I heard water running and police sirens in the distant. There is a man dead on the floor but can’t make out his face. At that moment I lose the image as Demetrius furiously shakes me, waking me up. He is now dragging me back to my room. There has been a murder. One of the dangerous patients has stabbed a nurse and they are ordering a lockdown.

Hurrying back to my room, I can’t help but wonder if what I dreamt was a memory or just a nightmare. Nothing is clear. I have to figure things out soon because I don’t have much time. Kauffman is growing weary of me; I fear he will give up on me. I fear being exiled back onto the third floor. I’ll die there. Third floor residents don’t last long; they always die of mysterious causes or go missing after a few years. Nobody ever knows what happens to them. Two nurses rush past us, looking scared. I knew who they were afraid of. I knew who stabbed that poor nurse. And I also knew he would disappear sometime soon. 

Grandiose 7

I’m watching the snow fall. My face is pressed against the left glass wall of the main floor, overlooking the garden which is now completely covered in a beautiful white blanket of snow. Sometimes they let me walk around if I’ve been good but always under the watchful eye of Demetrius. Demetrius was a steroid pumping, six foot four orderly from Russia, covered in tattoos. He was known for abusing his authority and had a really bad temper. He loved to physically abuse patients if they didn’t adhere to his way of doing things. He never hurt me though, but I didn’t receive special treatment either. Through my periphery, I saw him take out a cigarette and light it. The hall was empty; everyone else was at lunch or in their rooms. I had eaten my lunch in my room and he had come to surprise me. He knew I liked looking outside. Image

I yearn to go out and feel the cold on my skin and throw myself onto the ground and make snow angels. They rarely let me go outside; not since the attempted suicide incident when I was first emitted. It was my first Spring here, and they had taken me out to the garden. While walking around, I noticed a sharp rock by an old oak tree and picked it up without anyone noticing. I attempted to cut my wrists but was stopped by two nurses. I was more deranged then.

After that they never let me out, even now I am restricted to these walls. It is maddening really to watch those who can go outside in the Spring and Summer. I envy them. I always plead with them to let me go out but it is futile. This of course drives me into screaming spells which results with me being drugged and locked up in my room.  I cringed at the thought of it.

“Time to go back Lizzie” Demetrius says to me in a strong Russian accent. I didn’t like people calling me Lizzie but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I didn’t want to see what happens when you talk back to him. I was very comfortable with our arrangement. He grabbed my right arm a bit too hard as he led me back to my room. When we got there, he shoved me in and slammed my door shut. I stayed in there until it was time for dinner. This time it was Janice who got me and took me to the cafeteria.

Janice was obnoxious and loud. I towered over her but she was a big woman with very strong arms.  It was around 6:30 p.m. when I got my last meal for the day. I decided to sit at the far right corner of the cafeteria. I was one of the few patients that actually got to eat outside of their rooms. Most patients were fed in their rooms; some were too dangerous to let out. When I was first emitted, I was one of those dangerous patients who reside on the third floor. My tray was slid through an opening in the door and sometimes the orderly would be cruel and shove it in. It would spill the contents on the floor and I would have to eat it.

Then one day, Molly, a shy, petite nurse, came into my room with my lunch. She wasn’t afraid of me. She was nice to me and sat with me as I ate. I took a liking to her right away. The Director was impressed at how Molly had tamed me, that I was given cafeteria privileges. Come my fourth evaluation by the former psychiatrist (which I don’t recall ever meeting) I was moved to the first floor.

Now I sit in the far right corner of the cafeteria, staring at my food tray. It consists of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, chicken breast, fruit bowl and a box of orange juice. I’m not hungry. I think about throwing it out but pick up the plastic white spoon instead and shove it into the mashed potatoes, putting a good heap of it into my mouth.

I eat everything in record speed even the juice is gulped down in less than a ten seconds. I sense someone watching me and turn my head slightly to the left to see Kauffman staring at me. When he sees me looking back, he smiles at me. I quickly turn my head back to look at my now empty food tray and blush a little, glad that my long red hair covers my face.

“Sweet Elizabeth” I hear a familiar distant voice say.

“Henry!” I yelp as I jolt myself off my seat and look around for him. Everyone turns to look at me. I see him across the room and rush to meet him but am stopped by three big orderlies. I fight them screaming for Henry but when I look back to where I had seen him, he was no longer there. He had slipped away once again. I see a nurse inject a needle into my right arm and soon I start to feel sleepy. I am carried off back to my room, locked in for the remainder of the day.

Kauffman comes into my room a few hours later, looking rather frazzled. He hadn’t been sleeping much with my sudden drawback and his ever growing patient list. Despite his lack of sleep and stress, he still managed to keep a smile on his face. Behind him was Victoria or as she called herself now, Marissa.

“How are you?” Kauffman said to me with a smile.

“What happened with you tonight?” He continued to ask.

“I swear he was there!” I exclaimed. I went on to tell him of how I heard Henry call out to me and how I had seen him across the cafeteria by the far left exit door.

“I see…” Kauffman said in a low voice.

“We’ll talk about this further tomorrow morning” he went on to tell me as he turned to exit my room.

“Who is this Henry she speaks of?” Victoria whispered to Kauffman when they were out of Elizabeth’s earshot.

“Henry Betzel, but the thing is there is no record of him. I’ve done my research on her story. He doesn’t exist” Kauffman said to her with a sigh.

“He doesn’t exist?” Victoria replied, chuckling a bit.

“No” Kauffman responded with a yawn. I sat in my room, knees tucked in, shivering. I saw Henry with my own eyes. I wasn’t crazy or maybe I was. If only they had let me reach him. I didn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t.

Grandiose (6)

“I thought you died” Victoria said sarcastically as I slid into the taxi. I ignored her snarly remark.

“I better get a good tip for this” the Indian taxi driver scolded at us.

“Yes, Ms. Elizabeth here will give you a nice tip, won’t you?” Victoria replied looking straight at me. I opened my mouth to say something vile but I was too happy to start an argument. Sliding back into the seat, I turned to face the window and remained silent throughout our short trip to Uncle Leo’s.

Victoria being Victoria, knew something was up and pestered me until I finally gave in and told her everything that had happened with Henry.

“Wait, Henry Betzel, talked to you?” she exclaimed in disbelief.

“Yes, you know him?” I asked.

“Everyone knows who Henry Betzel is, his father owns half the city” Victoria went on to say. I sensed a hint of jealousy.

“I can’t believe he talked to you” Victoria repeated and again I didn’t say anything to counter her insult. I just stared at her, appalled, feeling ashamed for not having the courage to stand up for myself.

“What did you two talk about, anyway?” Victoria asked, suddenly.

“Nothing, really” I responded in a low voice.

“Hmm” she snorted.

“Here it is” the Indian taxi driver said.

“$12.50” he continued to say. I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from my back jean pocket and handed it to him. I told him to keep the change as I exited the cab. I could smell Uncle Leo’s meatloaf from the street; the aromas from his third floor apartment electrified my nose. I took a moment to let them marinate and smiled. Image

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go, Princess!” Victoria yelled out at me from the front doors of Uncle Leo’s apartment building. I quickly rushed into the building just before the tall glass doors closed.

“You’re so weird” Victoria sneers at me.

“What exactly is your problem?” I shriek, finally exploding.

“I meant it as a compliment, stop being so sensitive” she replied with a smile. I didn’t know it then but she was using psychological warfare on me, and I didn’t stand a chance. I foolishly gave her the benefit of the doubt and disregarded the past two hours of abuse.

Uncle Leo’s building was a four story walk-up, no elevators. We walked up to the third floor in silence. When we got to his apartment, Victoria beat me to the punch and knocked on the door. It was like I didn’t even exist. Uncle Leo opened the door, revealing a fabulously decorated white and black apartment. He was a bit heavier since the last time I saw him. His dark brown hair was still full and luxurious as ever. He was wearing his classic blue cashmere sweater, dark wash blue jeans and black loafers.

“Well, hello there, Miss Victoria” Uncle Leo gushed as he hugged her.

“Darling, it’s been too long” Victoria tells him as she kisses him on the right cheek. For a moment, I thought I would go unnoticed and they would just go off without even considering my presence.

“Elizabeth, my dear” I hear Uncle Leo say as he pulls me into a tight hug. Victoria disappears into the apartment, leaving Uncle Leo and me in the third floor hallway. After a few more minutes of catching up and exchanging pleasantries, he invites me into his apartment.

Again, my nose is over-powered by the strong aromas of Uncle Leo’s feast that awaited us in the dining room. You would think a woman had decorated his apartment, but it was actually all done by Uncle Leo and his partner, James. It was mostly black and white in color with hints of pink, here and there. The walls were covered with professional black and white portraits of Uncle Leo, James and their precious Persian cat, named Luna.

When you entered the apartment, you couldn’t help but notice the full Italian white leather sofa that faced a large plasma TV hanging on the opposite wall. It was so clean and beautiful that I was scared to even go near it. Across the room by the terrace, there was a tall wooden bookshelf that nearly touched the ceiling, filled with numerous books of all sizes and colors. I smiled at this. I almost didn’t see Luna, sitting on the couch, as her coat blended in with it. She looked at me curiously, and then went back to licking her left paw.

“Let’s eat,” Uncle Leo said to me as he led me to the right, into the dining room area. There stood a long dark brown table covered with the most savory foods I’ve ever seen. I mean, Uncle Leo really out-did himself. There was his famous meatloaf, mashed potatoes, dumplings, wild yellow rice, chicken pot pie, two different salads, a fruit bowl, roasted pork, cherry and apple pie and so much more.

“Uncle, I don’t think it’s Thanksgiving yet” I joked with eyes wide and mouth watering.

“I forgot to mention, I would be inviting a few more friends to join us” he said as he led me to a chair.

“They should be here soon” he went on as he disappeared into another room. I sat there looking at all the food, wondering if I could eat it all. Victoria and a few other people walked in laughing as I was reaching for meatball. I quickly pulled my hand back, hoping nobody had seen me. I was so hungry. Victoria sat right next to me which I found to be strange for some reason.

“You must be Elizabeth” a tall blonde curly haired woman said to me as she shook my hand.

“Yes, and you are?” I smiled.

“Madora. Madora Wiles” she said to me in a James Bond kind of way.

“I am a drama teacher. I hear you want to be an actress.” She went on to say.

“Lovely to meet you” I told her while keeping a smile on my face.

“How do you…” I began to say but stopped myself, knowing the answer to my question. We talked for a while, and then Uncle announced it was time to eat and she patted my right shoulder and went on to find a seat. James was now standing next to Uncle Leo holding a glass of red wine. He also looked the same since I last saw him. He was significantly taller than my Uncle, had a nice build and was also bald. He smiled at me when he saw me. I smiled back.

“In honor of my lovely Elizabeth, I have prepared this fabulous meal welcoming her to New York!” Uncle cheered. Everyone else at the table gave me their welcome. I was greeted by so many people that I couldn’t possibly recount all of their names to you.

While we ate, Uncle Leo had set-up an old disc-player to play Elvis Presley. All around the table, the conversations were lively and friendly. Everyone was having a good time, even Luna who sat on a high chair by Uncle Leo, was nibbling at her own dinner.

It was a great night. We danced to old swing music, told jokes and acted out scenes from Les Miserables (my favorite novel). It was way past two in the morning when the festivities had ended and everyone but Victoria and I had left. Uncle Leo had insisted we stay overnight because he did not want us walking out at night. He had us sleep in his guest bedroom which was also color schemed in black and white. In it was a king sized bed, one dresser and an attached bathroom. He let us borrow some old t-shirts to sleep in, gave us both newly bought toothbrushes and wished us goodnight.

Victoria didn’t even bother to change, throwing herself onto the left side of the bed, falling immediately to sleep. I on the other hand, changed into an old extra large rolling stones t-shirt, pulled my hair into a top bun and jumped into the right side of the bed. I wasn’t aware of how tired I was, lying there, my eyes soon grew rather heavy and I quickly drifted away.

Grandiose (2)

I had just moved to the city, it was in early November of 2000. My parents had my uncle, Leo; find me an apartment in New York but it was to be shared with his friend’s daughter, Victoria Quinn. I didn’t know it then but Victoria would be the death of me. She seemed nice at first, but I soon learned it was only a disguise to her true nature.  I should have trusted my instincts the first time I met her but I had dismissed them due to my need for friendship in a new city. It was a long and scary flight from England to New York, and I wanted things to start off good, well as good as I dreamed it would be. For the most part, everything was going well, I didn’t get lost. I hate getting lost, it’s my worst fear.

As I rode in the Taxi from Newark Airport, I didn’t really think much, just observed the scenery as we entered New York City. As any newcomer, I was excited to see the lights in Times Square; my eyes were wide with glee. I was finally here; I was going to be an actress.  Or so I thought, the thing is some people get their dreams, others not so much. 

When the taxi dropped me off at my new home, 761 Park Ave, I was surprised at how beautiful the architecture was. It was of the Victorian era and the details on the windows were breathtaking. It was a beautiful building; I smiled to myself as I grabbed my luggage and headed to the front door. I rang the buzzer.Image

“Yes,” a girl answered.

“Hi, this is Elizabeth Hodges, I’m moving into apartment 9.”

“So you are…do please come in,” the girl replied in a morbid tone, that somewhat put me off.  I heard the click, signaling that the doors were unlocked and proceeded to enter the building. It smelled of tobacco, lavender and Chinese food; an interesting concoction of smells, I thought to myself feeling hungry, suddenly. The elevator seemed to take forever to come down and I was getting rather impatient. After about 10 minutes, it finally came down and I was slightly frustrated by the wait but happy to be on my way to my new apartment. It was a quick lift to the 5th floor.  Briskly descending onto the 5th floor hallway, I was instantly in awe of how exquisitely it portrayed the vintage Victorian theme.  I took time to admire the single chandelier in the middle of the hall, the contemporary art hanging on the maroon and white walls, as well as, the very expensive looking maroon carpeting. For some reason, I had the craziest urge to take of my shoes and run my toes through the carpet but I decided otherwise to just find my new apartment and meet my new roommate.

 I thought I would get lost but it was easy to find. It’s like she knew because before I knocked on the door, it hang flung open and there she was-the sadistic evil witch that would drive me out of my mind, but of course, I did not know it then or maybe I did.

“Hi! I’m Victoria. Victoria Quinn,” this petite pear-shaped wide-eyed girl with wild curly golden brown hair exclaimed.

“Hello,” I nervously smiled.

“You must be Elizabeth,” she crooned. I got a bad vibe from her; she just kept staring right at me with that weird smile on her face. It made me uncomfortable but I dismissed my instincts because I was new in town and needed to start off on a good foot with this girl that was going to be my roommate for some time.  She was blocking my entrance into the apartment.

“I’m terribly tired from the flight, may I come in?” I asked, chuckling a bit, as it was my apartment as well, but the nervous laugh didn’t really help in disguising my fear. Victoria stared at me even more for a while, her eyes piercing into mine like daggers.

“Yes, of course, do come in.”

“This is your apartment too….for a while” she murmured.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing dear, let me show you to your room.” She smiled as she helped me bring my luggage to my room.

“Your uncle tells me you want to be an actor,” Victoria blurted out as she helped me situate my luggage in my new room.

“Yes, but do you mind terribly if I could get a cup of tea, I’m awfully thirsty” I said.

“The Brits and their tea, can’t go a day without it, huh?” Victoria smirked. I ignored her sarcasm and just said, “Yes, tea would be great. May you direct me to the kitchen?”

“Sure, right this way, sweety” she replied in a somewhat condescending tone. As I followed her to the kitchen, I could not help but notice the countless books on biology, psychology and crime-related mystery novels in the living room. The kitchen was just as beautiful as the rest of the apartment and I took a seat on one of the steel stools by the long marble counter. As Victoria prepared the tea, she made another attempt in small talk, mostly trying to bond with me as she too wanted to be an actress.

“You have such lovely hair,” she told me.

“Thank you” I smiled.

“How do you get it to be so silk like” she asked.

“My mom is a hairstylist back in London, so as you know, she was keen on having all her children have good hair.” I replied. She kept on complimenting me and asking me a lot of questions, digging into my personal life. I was getting uncomfortable.

“I see you’re interested in Biology and Psychology,” I suddenly asked, as a way to divert her attention from asking me anymore personal questions.

“Oh, yes, they’re just hobbies”

“Do you have any hobbies or do you just focus on acting?” She sneered.

“Of course, I do” I remarked trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to sound condescending” she cooed at me, trying to sound sincere. I was so appalled but didn’t know what to say. She was deliberately undermining me and I couldn’t even muster the courage to put her in her place. I was ashamed.

“I think I’ll start unpacking and take a short nap afterwards. But first, I’ll call my uncle and parents, to let them know that I’m okay.” I finally decided to say as I grabbed my cup of tea and headed back to my room, feeling like a ton of bricks just crushed my chest. 

Grandiose (1)

(I’m in my head)

 

I’m not crazy, he was real.Image

 

How could he not be?

 

I touched him…

 

Locked in surrounded by the four padded white walls, I long to escape and find him. They say I’m not right and must remain in this awful place. I don’t know how I got in here; they said I did terrible things to people. How could I? I don’t remember.

 

“Elizabeth” someone speaks softly but I pretend I don’t hear them. My eyes are closed because the harsh light hurts my eyes.

 

“Would you like me to dim the lights?” the person asks. It’s a man; I can tell. His voice is soft and sweet just like my Henry.

 

“Yes, please” I respond.

 

“Now, there you may open your eyes” he tells me. I slowly open my eyes. As I look around I realize the walls are not padded here but they are dark. I’m restrained as always by the white jacket and feel the cold from the steel chair. My long unwashed red hair covers my face and soon his warm hands are pushing it back behind my ears.

 

I glance up to see deep sea blue eyes staring at me with such warmth. He has dark brown hair and finely chiseled features. He is wearing an old brown blazer with a blue wrinkled collar shirt, dark wash jeans, and brown boots.

 

“There, now we can start” he gushed as he headed back to his chair a few feet from where I was sitting. I tilted my head to the left as I examined him.

 

“Are you ok? You seem distant.” He asked me.

 

“Yes, I’m-I’m here” I kind of stuttered.

 

“I’m Loren Kauffman; I’ll be your psychiatrist during your time here.”

 

“Why am I here?” I whined.

 

“Yes, they say you don’t remember what you did” Kauffman’s voice trailed off as my mind raced and I went into a trance. It was only for a moment but I saw myself holding a bat as I hit at something or someone over and over. I couldn’t make it out; it was all so blurred. I felt someone shaking me and I lost the image.

 

“Don’t go away without me” Kauffman smiled at me. I completely disregarded what I thought I saw because I couldn’t be sure it actually happened.

 

“So, let’s get started” Kauffman exclaimed.

 

“Tell me about yourself”

 

“A gentleman wouldn’t keep me tied like this. Surely you know this?” I probed.

 

“I’m sorry my dear but I can’t release you from your bounds” Kauffman replied.

 

“I can’t be here, I have to find him!” I screamed.

 

“Find who?” Kauffman asked in an intrigued tone.

 

“Henry” I blushed.

 

“Who is this Henry?” he asked. At first I was reluctant to further discuss the topic but he was willing to listen and I could not pass up the chance of divulging my deep admiration for my precious, Henry.

 

“He’s a gentleman.” I smiled.

 

“Really, tell me more” Kauffman urged.

 

“Well, he is handsome, kind, smart, and funny” I rambled on.

 

“Where did you meet?” he inquired. The question actually startled me because somehow I did not expect it.

 

“It’s a long story” I smiled.

 

“I’ve got a lot of time” Kauffman smiled back. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I recalled my first encounter with Henry. Suddenly, I was transported back to that day and so the story begins.

Grandiose

Elizabeth, a young woman, in her early 20’s, moves to New York from England, to become an actor. Becoming an actor in New York, was not going to be easy but for some reason everything was going her way until she met Victoria Quinn. Victoria was Elizabeth’s roommate and she was terribly jealous of Elizabeth’s life. Victoria had a dark past and was keen on making Elizabeth’s life miserable, even drive her insane. It all started when Elizabeth met Henry, the trust fund handsome gentleman that wanted to be an actor. Victoria couldn’t take it anymore, she wanted to take everything away from Elizabeth, and so she started gaslighting Elizabeth and drove her insane. Henry is nowhere to be found and Elizabeth is put into an asylum. The thing is there is more to this story that meets the eye, this had happened before a long time ago before any of them were ever born, in England. It’s funny how history repeats itself. 

Image

However, this time, Elizabeth has the help of a very clever therapist named, Loren. She slowly puts the pieces together.