Turn It Up (321 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryLabels: goodfiction
Rating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Corn Nugget (View user info) at 2004-10-30 19:16:29 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
Margot was 40 when she got her first grey hair. She never noticed it. Nor did she notice the second, third, tenth, or hundredth grey sprout. She didn't notice when her skin started to wrinkle and hang loose on her frame, nor did she notice the sagging of her bosom.
The only thing she seemed to notice were the leaves. She would sit on the veranda from sun-up to sunset and watch them- or during the winter, when she had no leaves to watch, she would watch the branches, anticipating the first bud.
Her mood improved noticeably every spring. She would point excitedly when she saw the first signs of a sprouting leaf. All summer she was content to watch their life cycles. She loved seeing their silvery underbellies before a rainstorm, she loved how they drooped during a dry spell, she could tell anyone the mood of the tree simply by looking at its leaves.
As it always does, fall would come. When everyone else was busy admiring the radiant autumn colors, Margot was beginning to mourn. The nurses often had to go rescue her from the yard, where she would throw herself down beneath the largest maple and cry. Her tears would wet the leaves that she held to her face, and her hair would tangle in the leaves she rubbed into her hair as her mind would slowly die with each leaf that fell.
***
"Turn it up," his lab coat was stark white, pressed, and every button was fastened. His hair was imaculately groomed, and smoothed down with a bitter smelling concoction. His eyes were so small and beady they looked as if his face was in the process of trying to suck them into his skull. His lips were unnaturally red, and always moist.
Margot laid on her back, with her arms and legs strapped tightly to the cot. A kind looking nurse stood near Margots head, ensuring that the rubber piece stayed in her mouth, and her heart-rate stayed within the normal range.
Another nurse (she was only an attendant, to be honest... although everyone referred to her as a nurse in order to keep up professional appearances) adjusted the dial of the electroshock machine.
"We're ready, sir."
The doctors tongue darted out of his mouth and across his lips, and he pressed the appropriate button on the machine. The electricity travelled from the machine, through the wires, through the electrodes, and into Margots head. Her whole body jerked, convulsed, tightened...
1... 2... 3... The kind nurse counted each second. She thought of nothing else. Just the time. She could not allow herself to think of anything else. 4... 5... 6... Did she know, as a child, that she would be in attendance in such a room? 7... 8... 9... Is there any proof that these electroshock treatments work? 10.. 11... 12... What is Margot feeling? 13... 14... was she feeling anything? Would they all go to hell for interfering with Gods Plan? 15...
"Stop."
The room fell silent. Margots body fell silent.
"Turn it up." Everyone hesitated a moment too long. The doctors face reddened and spittle flew out of his mouth when he repeated himself, "TURN IT UP!".
The attendant turned the dial. The doctor started the machine. The kind nurse fixed her eyes on the heart rate monitor. 1... 2... 3...
Twenty seconds later, "Stop." He turned on his heel, and left the room.
The kind nurse took the rubber piece out of Margots mouth, detached the electrodes, and loosened the straps. The attendant hastily made their exit, leaving the kind nurse alone with Margot.
The kind nurse, her name is Anne, by the way.
Anne recited the Lords Prayer as she wiped the spit and snot from Margots face.
A knock at the door- someone had let Margots husband in too early.
Anne opened the door just a crack, "Sir, I'm afraid she's not ready. It will be about half an hour more before you can visit her." He tried peering over Anne, trying to see into the room. Anne pushed the door closed, and went back to Margot. If her husband saw her in such a state it would surely break his heart. Who wants to see his wife tied down to a bed, sweaty, swollen, and stinking of defecation?
Anne was nearly finished cleaning Margot when the doctor came in, followed by the husband. Anne felt her heart sink deep into her chest. This man should not see the room his wife was tortured (yes, it was torture, no matter what was said... torture) in. He should not see his wife as she lay comatose- dead to the world.
"Jesus Christ" an unpleasant look washed over the husbands face and distorted his features. The look was not sorrow or pity- it was disgust. "She's not getting any better, is she!" it wasn't a question.
"Sir-" Anne started to explain, but the doctor cut her off with a look that was as sharp as the smell coming from his hair.
"No- some women are feeble. They are weak. It's a matter of genetics and a poor disposition." The two men exchanged knowing glances. "I recommend six more sessions, at the highest rating allowed, medically." He pushed a form towards the husband. "Sign this, and that will authorize further treatments."
He signed, handed the form back to the doctor, turned, and left the room without casting a second glance at his wife.
***
Margot stopped noticing the leaves.
The doctor marked this in her chart, and noted it as "a marked improvement".
After the next treatment Margot stopped walking about the grounds, entirely.
The doctor marked this in her chart, and noted it as "another marked improvement".
There were no treatments during the week that the doctor was out of town. He was attending a conference on modern psychiatrics, and he would be speaking on his area of expertise- Electroshock Therapy, of course.
He used Margots case as proof of his success with this method. It rid her of her obsession with inanimate objects! It curbed her restlessness!
While the doctor was gone Margot changed even more. She wouldn't go outside. She asked the attendant for a rag, and she busied herself by dusting everything that she could reach. She dusted and dusted, and after the entire ward had been gone over twice, she dropped to hear hands and knees and worked on the floors.
When Anne heard that the doctor was back, she rushed to his office. "Sir... Margot... she's... she has done nothing all week but wipe the ward down, scrub the floors, eat, and sleep! What should I do??"
"Call her husband! Sounds like she's made a full recovery! He will be pleased!"
"But she's not even talking! Not going outside! She's-"
"Fantastic! I knew that electroshock would bring her back... to think- this is the woman who was brought to us because of her irrational tendencies." He flipped open her chart and ran his finger along the page, "see, here, it says she was argumentative, irrational, it even says she had taken to leaving home for days at a time... you know, that's why he brought her here... she was gone for over a week, and when he found her at her mothers house he drove straight here. It was the FOURTH time he had to retrieve her in a matter of one year! Four times she left in one year, so he came here. And, obviously, that was the right decision!"
The doctor was right. Margots husband was pleased with her recovery.
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Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 11:37:50 EST (#)
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