TRAPPED IN YOU (English)

Chapter 5

(Joy)

I was catching my breath when I woke up. I feel so hot and my n*****s are painfully hard and aroused. When I looked down I saw that the hard buds are visible through the thin material of my hospital dressing gown. I can also feel that I’m moist between my legs.

          I closed my eyes and groaned in frustration. Even in my dreams the memories of James keeps on haunting me. His touch, his lips against my skin, his voice and his piercing gaze, everything felt so real. In my dream, just like what happened few months ago, I reached my climax. But now…  Ugh. I badly needed my release. But I know that if I make myself come I will feel intense guilt afterwards. I will feel dirty, abnormal and worthless and I hated feeling like that.

          My eyes sting with unshed tears as my hand starts to travel down. It’s as if my body has a mind of its own. As if it’s programmed. Fighting the urge is futile.

          Before my hand can even reach between my legs, I hear footsteps coming near the door of my hospital room. My hand stops at my lower stomach just when the door opened.

          I look up. I saw my best friend Lizzy and the doctor who examined me. They look surprised to see me awake. No wonder since all I did since I get here is sleep. I can’t help it. I am always sleepy and it is the only thing I want to do. I like sleeping because that way I can dream. And in my dreams, I am always with James Salgado.

          “Joy, thank goodness you are awake now. Do you want to eat? I can go buy something real quick,” Lizzy said.

She looks happy and relieved. I am always thankful to her. She always visits me every evening after she gets off work. And when it is her day off she stays with me all day.

I slowly shook my head. “I’m not hungry,” I said in a raspy voice. As if it has been years since I last spoke aloud. “Lizzy, you must have work today. I’m okay. Go to work, please.”

“No. I will not leave you today,” my friend said in a determined tone.

I shook my head again. I don’t want her to babysit my miserable self. I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes every time she looks at me. I want to be alone. “Please,” I insisted. Even to my own ears I sound weak.

Lizzy’s mouth opened, as if about to protest. But someone else talked even before she can utter a word.

“She’s right. You don’t have to halt your life for her. What you are doing is not going to help her at all.”

Lizzy looked to the person who spoke. I did the same. It was only then that I noticed that there is man standing by the open door of my room. He was wearing a white doctor’s coat. I did not sense his presence a while ago.

“Martin,” the old doctor reprimanded him in a soft tone. It’s obvious my doctor wants to be authoritative but I sensed the affection in his voice.

“I am just telling the truth,” answered the younger man. He approached my bed with a quiet grace that could have mesmerized me if I am not in my current condition. He stopped right in front of me. He looked straight to my eyes. “Pity will not make a person feel better. In fact, it only makes a person feel worse.”

My heart ached. He was able to read the feelings that I can’t even tell Lizzy. I know that my friend loves me. I know she is genuinely worried. But the truth is, I feel suffocated with all the attention she is giving me.

“Okay,” Lizzy said and sighed. She approached me and kissed my cheek. “I will go now. But I will come back on my next day off, okay?”

“Okay,” I answered in a quiet voice.

Lizzy stood up straight and said her goodbyes to the two men. Then she went out of the room.

The old doctor cleared his throat. Then he went to the side of my bed and gave me a kind smile. “Joy, I would like you to meet Dr. Martin. He will be your doctor from now on.”

I glanced at the younger man again. He looks like he is just in his early thirties. Unlike the older doctor, Dr. Martin is not smiling. He doesn’t look like a kind person either. In fact, as he gaze down at me he looks angry.

To be honest, I have no interest in him whatsoever. I don’t even feel anything with the fact that I will be under his care.

“He is a psychiatrist, Joy,” the old doctor continued. “You can talk to him. He will help you. He’s the best of the best in his field of expertise.”

I didn’t comment. I just stared at Dr. Martin. He just looked at me without saying anything too. No one wants to talk first.

The old doctor cleared his throat and disturbed the silence. “Well, I will leave the two of you now. Joy, I want to see you and talk to you before you get discharged from the hospital. And I hope it will be soon.” He then said his goodbye to Dr. Martin and went out of the room.

When it was only the two of us, I finally talked. “I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

“A common argument from people who needs a psychiatrist,” he answered. He dragged a chair and sat right in front of me. I thought he will say something again. Instead he closed his mouth and just stared at me again.

Long silence. I was the first one to speak. “When will I be discharged?”

“It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“If I think you are already mentally capable to function outside without any supervision.”

I blinked. “There is nothing wrong with my mind.”

“You starved yourself for three weeks. You have hypersomnia. Even now, you can’t stand up normally because you’ve been lying on your bed at home for almost one month. Your physical examinations are perfectly fine. So if not physical, it means the reason why you are like this is psychological. So yes, miss Madrid, there is something wrong with your mind. You need to accept it. You need to have the will to get better. Because if you don’t want to help yourself, no treatment will have an effect on you,” Martin said frankly.

I gawked at him. “Is that how psychiatrists talk? Aren’t doctors supposed to be soft spoken, sympathetic, friendly and understanding?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that the kind of doctor you want?”

I didn’t answer for a while. Not only because I was thinking about his question but also because I already got tired from talking. Lately, I get easily exhausted.

“That’s another sign,” the doctor said. I can see in his eyes that he knows the real reason why I stopped speaking. “You have clinical depression, Miss Madrid. The longer you go on untreated, the more your body will weaken. Do you want your life to just end like this? You are still young. You can still go back to your normal life as long as you want to.”

Something got stuck in my throat. A normal life? He thinks that is still possible for her? I almost laugh hysterically. “I will never be normal again, Doc,” I said with a bitter taste in my mouth. No matter how much my mind wants me to be normal again, my body doesn’t listen.

Dr.Martin stared at her face. “Why do you think so?”

I firmly pressed my lips together. I looked away. I can’t tell anyone what changed in my life. I can’t tell him that my body has been acting strange. I can’t voice out the fears that suffocate me. I wasn’t able to tell Lizzy. How can this man think that I will tell him what’s on my mind? I don’t care if he is a doctor.

Maybe he noticed that I don’t have any plans to talk because he kept quiet too. I thought he will stand up and finally leave my room. But he stayed seated. I can feel that he is staring at me. I was tempted to look back but I didn’t. Eventually my eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep.

When I woke up again, Dr. Martin is still sitting beside my bed. He was holding a folder, reading the papers inside it. Why is he still here? Did I just sleep for a few minutes or something?

“It’s already eight in the evening,” he said without looking away from what he is reading. Again, he answered my unsaid question like a mind reader. After a while the doctor closed the folder and finally looked at me. “You woke up just in time. I already called the nutrition department for your food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You will eat even if you are not hungry,” Dr. Martin answered. He stood up and approached my bed. Then he leaned down and held my arm. I startled and gasped. My hairs stood up as panic crawled in my skin. “Don’t touch me!”

Surprised, he let me go. I hugged myself, rubbing the part of my arm where his hand was. The doctor stared at me. There is speculation in his eyes. Then it seems as if an idea formed in his head and suddenly, he looks angry. His jaw clenched.

“Did he hurt you?”

I blinked at his question. “What –”

“That person that caused you clinical depression, did he hurt you?”

How did he know about James? Ah. Lizzy. Of course my best friend told the doctors about James. For sure this doctor even knows about our break-up. I hugged myself tighter. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then why did you react that way when I held you?”

Your body is mine. No one is allowed to touch you but me. Disobey me and I will get angry. But you like that, don’t you? You like it when I get mad.