Sitting in the corner, I rock slightly back and forth. The images of my past are haunting me, even though I can't remember them.
"It's hard to explain" I say out loud to no one in particular. "It's like... it's there, but its not. But it is..."
I start to feel a slight headache, as I do when I remember things, so I get up and walk over to the carer singing.
I pass all my hours in a shady old grove,
But I love not the day when I see not my love:
I survey ev'ry walk now my Laszlo is gone,
And sigh when I think we were there all alone;
O then 'tis, O then that I think there's no Hell
Like loving too well.
As I sing I realize I subconsciously replaced the word Phyllis with Laszlo again. It's strange how I don't know this man that haunts me, and yet I can recall everything about him- well everything that doesn't involve me, though he was clearly in my life.
Regardless of my internal battles within my head, I hear myself giggle as I finish the song and reach the carer.
"Ah Minnie. Just in time. Please, go for your shower." The carer looks at me with a smile that reminds me how insane I seem to all these people.
"I- I'm not really mad you know... don't look at me like that Laszlo" I tell him, before I realize I called him Laszlo.
"I know Minnie, just go for your shower." He seemed frustrated at having to talk to me, so I proceed into the bathroom before I say some more unbelievable things.
I retrieve a towel and walk into the cubicle. Removing my dress, undergarments, and bracelet, I place them neatly on a bench before stepping towards the shower half of the cubicle. Turning on the water I let it run over my head, pondering myself as I usually do when taking a shower.
They think I'm not telling them something. Well it's true, I'm not. But in the same sense, there are some things I cannot recall. Why tell them part of the story? It would be as confusing to them as it is to me. Something bad happened to me, I just don't quite remember it.
"It's on the tip of my brain" I hear myself say, giggling as I lose my train of thought.
"Minnie, two more minutes" I hear the carer from the doorway.
For the remaining time in the shower, I have the usual few minutes where my brain actually matches up with my body. It's like I'm two people most days, and taking a shower is the only time when I'm me again. Except I'm in an asylum, and I can't recall my own name.
I finish, dress and dry in record time. Putting the towel into the laundry basket, I glide out of the bathroom and back to my little corner, ignoring the carer as I go.