Chapter 2: Missing Marbles

This is the my second blog post that’s in novel style. I started this immediately after I finished the last one, but I didn’t get to finish it until today. Although I have written on most days of my life since I was 11 (almost 12), this is very emotional, and must be done when nobody else is home, which doesn’t happen often.

Our house is very busy, both with the people who live here, and family members who drop by unexpectedly almost daily. Although I love having family around so often, it’s hard to get alone time, to just think and write about emotional things. I will write it, because this is an important story to tell. I don’t think the people who prescribe sedation, know what sedation is like. Because I want them to know, I’m telling my story.

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Thank you for reading, and as always, thank you so much for your support in tweets, retweets, likes and comments.


Chapter 2:

H left, and Frank stayed. He controlled my breathing, the medicine I had, and the nurse I once felt save with. With him, everything was wrong, because he wanted me to suffer. I had caused him to be fired, after he tried to kill me, and he wanted revenge. Each time he came near me I couldn’t breath, because of buttons he pushed on the machines around me.

The female head of the ICU, who was a pharmacist, confronted him and asked him why he was staying, and asked him to leave.

“I need to find my marbles. I need them for the pianos. They won’t work without them. But I lost them here.”, He replied.

“Find your marbles, and then leave”, she told him, before sternly walking away.

He spent days looking for his marbles. Every day, he stood at the garage door of the ICU, and played with two marbles in his hand, claiming he had to find the rest of them. Staff and visitors, just walked around him.

One day my brother, K, was rushed into the ICU with the same problems I had. I couldn’t talk to him, but we both knew some sign language from childhood, because there was a child in one of our schools that only spoke sign language, and all the students in the school took 15 minutes of sign language a day. Although my brother knew more sign language than me, I still knew how to finger spell.

I asked if I could be taken to K to talk to him. My nurse didn’t know, but she asked someone else. Several opinions were given, including Frank’s. Surprisingly he agreed, I should talk to K. My bed was rolled over to K’s. I signed “K, I’m so glad you’re alive. I thought you were dead”.

K replied “I wondered about you.”

Frank got up from where he was sitting, and yelled “Don’t let them talk, she’s trying to talk him into suicide, that’s why she wanted to talk to him”, before leaning down into my ear and whispering “I hope you succeed you little bitch”, and then he went off looking for his marbles.

My bed was pulled back into it’s own curtained off spot, and Frank went to each bed pretending to look for his marbles. At each bed, he asked the nurse to make the bed stand straight up and down, so he could look under the bed. After he looked under the bed, he asked each patient their name. I knew he wasn’t just looking for marbles. There was something in the names he wanted to know. I told K, not to tell him his name.

He went to K’s bed before mine. His bed tilted back so it stood straight up and down. When it returned to a horizontal position, Frank asked K “what’s your name?”

Our mother was there, but she was mad at me and wouldn’t talk to me. She had our dog, Marshmellow, but she’d only talk to K, and show K our dog. She told K to tell Frank his name, but K would only shake his head…

Finally our mother said “His name is K.”

Frank came to my bed, and asked for it to be titled vertically, which it was. My head titled down and my feet titled up until I was hanging upside down, so that Frank could look at the spot my bed had been. When it was moved horizontally again, Frank asked me my name. I shook my head.

My mother said “I don’t know why I have such mean children. Her name is ____. I’ll help you find your marbles”, and she left with marshmellow, to help the man who tried to suffocate me, and said he wished I’d succeed in killing myself, to find marbles that I knew didn’t exist. I was sure they didn’t exist and he was only there to make my life miserable and he was succeeding.

I felt so lonely, and hurt. Even my mother didn’t like me. She not only didn’t like me, she was helping my attempted murderer find his marbles.


Note: This was edited after I posted it the first time. I know I should have edited it before posting it and I’m sorry for any inconvenience that might have caused.

Note #2: The sign language part is true. My brother and I did learn sign language in one of the schools we attended.

Note #3: I know that proper grammar includes a double space between a period and the capitol letter of the next sentence, but for some reason I can’t get this blog post to work that way. I know it looks odd and is harder to read. I apologize, but I have tried to correct it twice, and each time I look at the updated version, there is only one space between each period and the capitol letter than follows it. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to change it.

This will be continued.

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