Caregivers

Warning 

This story contains graphic and disturbing content.

Dusk

He will be in with my medicine any minute. My body and mind have adapted to this new and peculiar schedule so I almost wake up automatically now. It’s dark in the room. I can’t read the expression on his face because of the mask. I think it’s a he; I feel the roughness of his fingers as he puts the pills in my hand. Yes, it’s a he. Even in my half-dreamy state in the darkened room, I can make out the wide shoulders filling his shirt.

They want me to sleep. That’s what the medicine is for. I can’t get out of bed in the middle of the night so I have to pee into a plastic urinal. How am I expected to use that? I miraculously manage to get most of it in the urinal. Before I fall back to sleep, I watch him check all the connections to make sure nothing is loose. It must be hard working overnight. I don’t think he sleeps when I sleep. I can feel that he is around me. I sense it. I feel him close to me.

Dawn

My mind and body start to stir again. I look out into the hallway. This is the only time I see both of them. One comes in to take care of me and one leaves. I don’t know if it’s always the same one at night or if they take turns with the day shift and the night shift. It must be harder to spend the daytime with me because I get fed and I have to bathe. I still get meds a few times during the day. 

I don’t get breakfast until I take my pills. That’s the rule. He reminds me that it’s very important that I take the pills. I follow the instructions but sometimes I don’t get to finish my breakfast because I get sleepy again. Without speaking, he uses the plastic spoon to stir up the fruit from the bottom and hands me the container of blueberry yogurt. He checks all the connections and then leaves the room as I finish my yogurt. Feeding myself is just as difficult as using the urinal. I just can’t get my arms and hands to the right spot.

When I awake in the mid-afternoon, I get out of bed to use the bathroom. This is a production which makes me think that the night guy has it a little easier. First, he closes the door to the room and has to undo a few connections for me to make it as far as the bathroom. I am not completely untethered but I feel some relief from my entanglements. I am weak and a little dizzy. I have trouble walking. I look for something to lean on but there is no other furniture in the room. The bathroom door is left ajar while I do my business. As I look around the room, there is a blurry halo around every object. 

No one else comes to visit. I’m a little out of it because of my meds but I’m sure of it. Maybe no one knows where I am. How did I get here?

When I get back into bed, I get a warm washcloth and a snack after I take my pills. I stay awake just long enough to return to a state of freshness.  Blackness returns.

Dusk

He will be in with my medicine any minute. I’m pretty sure that I am the only one he takes care of. I am the only person in this room night after night. He gives me his full attention but he does not talk very much. He tells me what to do but doesn’t talk to me. 

Lie back. 

Put your hands together.

Sometimes, he will just say Shhh.

My hands were not able to correctly position the urinal tonight. I peed on the bed. I felt the warm wetness of my own urine on my legs and backside. My medicine kept me from feeling too upset or embarrassed about it but I could tell he was angry. He was grunting and mumbling under his breath behind the mask. He placed my pills firmly in my hand and walked out, leaving me to sleep in a wet bed. 

Dawn

I awoke. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but I’m pretty sure he told the daytime guy about my accident. Something is different. I feel funny. Besides the fact that I slept in my own piss. The halos are gone. My vision is clear. Is the medicine working?  Their voices are rising and I start to understand the words.

I told you those were too tight the other night. I’m not cleaning your mess. 

Something was in my hand. I opened my fist and found last night’s pills. I fell asleep without taking them. The night guy came back in so I squeezed my hand tight. He started ripping the sheets off the bed. He moved me around forcefully to get the sheets out from under me. As I was pushed and lifted from side to side and back to front, my wrists chafed from friction. My ankles, too. 

He changed the sheets like he was mad at me and the bed and then left the room. I heard another door slam.  I didn’t mean to pee on the bed. I just couldn’t get the urinal in position with my hands because —. Why can’t I get my hands to work right?  I can see a little better in the dim light now. I looked at my hands. Confusion seeped into my mind and quickly progressed to understanding then panic. And, ultimately, my mind was in a state of crushing, unendurable fear. 

Adrenaline coursed through my body and brought more awareness and, in turn, more shock. My hands were tied together and my feet were wrapped tightly with rope and tied to the legs of the bed with only a small distance of free movement. The room had no windows. The only light in the room came in through the barely open door.

My first impulse was to scream but I swallowed it. My body shook. I lost control of my breathing. I looked frantically around the room but my mind was racing and still trying to formulate a full understanding of my situation. He would be coming back to give me pills to keep me quiet. I can’t let him know I’m conscious. 

I lie there with my eyes closed but still shivering in fear. He entered the room. 

“Hey, she’s shivering.” He yelled to the other guy, presumably somewhere in the house.

I willed my brain to keep my eyes closed and mumbled softly. I purposely stuttered to sound half conscious. 

“C— c— cold. So cold.” I murmured. I opened my eyes to give him a pleading look. “Please. So c– cold,” I whispered.

“What? Are you cold?” He yelled to the other guy. “Yo, this bitch is cold.”

“Who the fuck cares?” He replied from another room. “It’s my turn to sleep.”

He leaned in to pull up the blanket. He didn’t bother to put down his phone. He used two fingers and his thumb to adjust the blanket leaving his phone loosely held by the remaining fingers. I jolted up into a seated position. I threaded his head through my bound wrists and pulled him toward my face. I felt white hot anger rise inside me and used it to help numb myself to the fact that I was biting his ear off. I felt my teeth fit through the stitches of the knit ski mask and penetrate his flesh.

His phone fell beside me onto the bed. His screams pulsated in my ears. I tasted the metallic tinge of his blood as it seeped through the mask onto my  lips. I jerked my head to the side to rip off whatever cartilage I had bitten but kept his head against mine, squeezing my arms tightly around his neck. 

The night guy bounded through the door without wearing his mask. I didn’t recognize his face but I would never forget it. Day guy’s neck was at an unnatural angle still ensnared by my arms as his ear bled onto my sheets and nightgown. His arms and legs had gone limp and I realized that I had been squeezing relentlessly. He was unconscious. 

The night guy stared at my bloody face and his motionless accomplice. I thought he was going to be sick. I released the unconscious man. He fell in a heap to the floor. I grabbed the phone.  Night guy moved toward the bed, having to step over his hopefully-lifeless partner. It was too late.

Over the phone’s speaker came the voice. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

He reached for the phone. I held it above my head as he climbed onto the bed to get to it.

“Help me! Help!” I yelled. He yanked the phone from my grip and climbed off the bed. He threw the phone hard onto the floor. I heard a loud, tinny bang and the sound of tinkling glass. 

I hoped beyond hope that emergency services could still trace the call. I mustered a confident attitude and a throaty voice. Through clenched teeth, I said, “They’re coming for you, asshole.”

He stood motionless, staring at me, as if weighing his options.