Huxley- An Opera Down by the Sea.

CW- Language, Violence, Suicide and Mental Health Content.

Huxley- An Opera by the Sea

Introduction-

Sadly, things did happen. Miranda would never be the same, sane, beautiful woman that the world had come to love. In the asylum by the sea in the woods filled with White Oak trees, Miranda contemplated a quick escape as she always had tricks up her sleeves- always!

Part I- Miranda

The inside of the asylum was not as creepy as the outside. Close to a cliff, the asylum’s exterior scared people, but the inside was inviting, and comfortable even. Patients, and staff, would sip brandy by the fire places. It was a peaceful place- she was told upon admittance. It was a, “place of tranquility,” yet it still gave the famous opera singer, Miranda Bailey, a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling said, “Get the fuck out,” but just looking at the doctor was enough of a reason to stay. He was such a kind looking man. She had swooned the first time he wrapped his hand around hers, but now he was giving her a different sort of feeling. One of sheer terror.

“I fear I’ll lose my sanity. The one thread I hold onto, and you wish to cut it,” said Miranda. She could hear the sounds of the sea calling her. Perhaps one simple, nice, jump- a few, short seconds- and this could all be over, but how to get to the cliff? She thought.

“You’ve been committed for delusions and hysteria. You’ve already lost your sanity.” Said the doctor in a low tone that sent shivers up Miranda’s spine. His preferred name was Dr. Huxley.

“But must I have shocks? Must I? And what delusions? I have not been here long, and I’ve seen how shocks affect people. They wander hallways not knowing who they are, or what their names are…” Miranda paused. She remembered how her mother waited tables, and always gave her permission to use her boobs.

“Use your boobs, girl.” her mother whispered in her ear from the beyond. “Use them.”

“What about a different release?” Miranda asked as she pulled down her gown revealing her breasts. “Please? Touch me, but no shocks, for the love of God, no shocks. I am already humiliated by being here. I can now hear screams as we speak. I’ll make you feel good… Master.”

“It’s Dr. Huxley. This treatment is standard procedure. Please. Calm down and cover yourself. Now, do you remember what happened when you were arrested?” the doctor asked her while she covered herself as ordered.

“I saw Lonnie outside the theatre.”

Miranda had a performance sell out the night before. It was a full house of alcoholic millionaires. She received standing ovations for each song, and Dido’s Lament had the audience begging for an encore.

“What did you do when you saw your husband?” asked Dr. Huxley.

“I told him I was sorry.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He looked angry.”

“Why did he look angry, Miranda?”

“I don’t know, Dr. Huxley.”

“Miranda, your husband is dead. You were speaking to a stranger. You apologized for taking so long to kill him with poison. Shortly after that you were picked up, and sent here for treatment.”

“But the shocks scare me.”

“Miranda, we are only going to start you with eighty volts.”

“I don’t think so, Dr. Huxley.”

“It is not an option,” he said as he took out his special, most beloved notebook. The cover had been embroidered by his mother, and was given to him as a gift for his high school graduation. She had died shortly after from cirrhosis of the liver. He wrote down the words,

“She is cute, isn’t she?” then he snapped the notebook shut, and said, “See, I have ordered it to be done.” It was apparent to Dr. Huxley that Miranda was interested in him, but she was a patient. A deeply disturbed woman. He could never make it work. It would be unethical, but he did have a feeling that he had not felt in a long time. The feeling made him blush just a little bit, and he began to feel sad and lonely. Then Miss Collins rushed in panic stricken. She had been a patient for almost nine years, was around one hundred pounds, and she fought with the staff daily when it came to cleaning herself. A foul mood, and smell followed her everywhere she went.

“Dr. Huxley! I won’t take more meds!” she cried. “Why have you increased them? You know they give me suicidal thoughts!”

“Then we’ll switch you back to shocks.”

“What? Wait. No. What are you? A fucking Nazi?” she spat. “I’d rather die.”

“I’m with a new patient. Control yourself!” Dr. Huxley called for Roberta, the nurse, as he backed Miss Collins into a corner. Roberta was big enough to choke a person out. It was hard for her to find red scrubs in her size, so she wore a size smaller, but that did not bother her. Roberta stormed in and dragged poor Miss Collins away as Dr. Huxley hollered, “One-hundred, and twenty volts, Roberta!”

“You are the devil’s henchmen!” screamed Miss Collins.

“Never mind. Max it out, Roberta! The works!” Huxley ordered.

“Is that what you want to put me through?” Miranda gasped. “You could permanently fry her brain!”

“I assure you Miss Collins will be fine. She would act that way about a mosquito bite. The treatment is standard procedure. Do you want to watch?” He asked, and she thought of the waves. The cliff. Jumping off into the abyss. So much better. Miranda was shocked that he would even ask her such a thing. No, she did not want to watch poor Miss Collins go through trauma. Nor did she want to go through it herself− even at a low voltage.

“Maybe we could try some pills first.”

“Miranda, everything must have an order, so that things run properly, right? Are you familiar with the book of Jerimiah?”

“No, Dr. Huxley.” she said as she was feeling a bit faint. She grabbed a small book from the doctor’s desk, and began fanning herself desperate to get some cool air onto her face. The sea. I would much rather be in the sea. She thought.

“Jerimiah writes to people who are suffering just like you. ‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you, thoughts of peace, plans to give you hope and a future.’ Think of that verse during your stay here. Know that you have a purpose, a future, and see that you can trust me.”

Miranda did not trust him, and she regretted revealing her breasts to him.

“What purpose could He have for me?” Miranda asked as her eyes began to sting. It was clear that she would be going nowhere for a while. “Perhaps I could sing for some of the patients, but I don’t know if I’m up for it.”

“Well, we would love to hear some good singing around here for a change,” he said as a grin passed over his face. That kind face. “You’ll be released when I see that you’ve made the progress to go back into society, but since you’ve murdered your husband, it may be some time. Look at it like a glass of gin. A little rough at first, but once you are finished, you feel delighted. Joyful even. We are also having film night tomorrow evening, so there is something to look forward to! ‘Nectar of the Gods.’ You’re gonna love it! Tomorrow, you may even go for a swim if you like?”

How about a nice jump instead- right into the chilly water? She thought, but she watched her mouth, and simply replied,

“I’ll think about it…but… I never signed any papers, and I had to wait awhile just to speak with you, and I’ve heard people scream the most horrible screams. I can hear the screams coming from down the hall! I came for a sweet respite, and now I am plagued with the voices- the screams echoing deep inside, and the waves are calling me…”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Miranda, your father signed the papers.” he said. She did not believe it. She could not believe it, but, sadly, it was true. He led Miranda to her room. “Come. Lie down on this bed. It’ll all be over as quick as a shot of gin,” he said smiling. Miranda lay down on the bed. “One-hundred volts will work just fine,” he assured his patient.

“I don’t like this…” she managed to say just as Dr. Huxley placed a gag in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue. Then he zapped her right below her perfect cheekbones. She wanted to scream, but she could not. Tears fled her clenched up eyes, and she wished she had never been born.

Part II- Carlos & Roberta

The year 1942 was proving to be a difficult year for Dr. Huxley. Few beds were open, and the nights had been cold and rainy. The cold made people do crazy things. Awful things. Things that caused the doctor to sip more brandy than usual. The rain caused flooding in the basement, which sent the rats running into the west wing. The kitchen was in the west wing, and Carlos worked there. Carlos weighed over three-hundred pounds, and his apron was always bloody from handling raw meat. He received therapy, a room, and expenses paid in exchange for being a slave to the kitchen.

“The rats are eating the bread, and all of the cans are expired,” Carlos said yawning. He had not slept in days. The rats were giving him nightmares. Carlos hated rats. His room had no door. The guy set up barricades to keep the rats out, but, sadly, there were nights where he awoke to them nibbling at his feet, and you could hear him shriek all through the night.

“I have sent for the exterminator,” said Dr. Huxley. “He will be here in the morning. You haven’t been taking your Haldol. I’ve told you it will help you sleep.”

“But it makes me all itchy inside and out, my lord.”

“I’m going to give it to you in liquid form then. Maybe that will help.” The doctor snapped his fingers for Roberta, but she did not enter. He tried again, but she still did not enter.

“Roberta!” he called, and she showed up in an instant. “Get ten milliliters of Haldol for Carlos, and ten milliliters for you, and myself. We’re going to have a toast.” Roberta disappeared then reappeared with three tiny medicine cups filled half-way with the clear liquid. “It’s been ten-years and we haven’t killed ourselves. To us!” They downed the liquid quickly. Dr. Huxley saw that it made him think differently. It also gave him a feeling of sedation, and after a long day of dealing with psychiatric patients, that was a beautiful thing. Roberta and Carlos got a nice kick from it as well. Miss Collins rushed in panic stricken again.

“Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!” she cried, and Dr. Huxley let out a long, pained sigh.

Part III- Scream

Movie night came and went, and Miranda did not attend. She had not yet been able to leave her room since the electroshock therapy. See, sometimes there were misfires. Happened all the time. Three weeks passed, and Miranda finally was able to put one foot in front of the other without falling. She had passed the time cursing Roberta cause she had no visitors.

“Screw you! You horrid bitch! I pray you’re raped in hell!” But her favorite was viciously whispering horrible questions while befuddled Roberta would reposition her on the bed. “Did you ever sleep with daddy? Let him hold your hand?" She was losing her mind, but none of this bothered Roberta. Roberta could hardly hear anyway, and when Miranda found that out, she planned her escape. The bottle. Oh, yes! The bottle! She thought.

Once Miranda had the chance, she raced out of her room, and struggled down the hallway, and through the corridor on her left heading towards the west wing. She had heard Miss Collins scream for days, so she knew right where to find her. Now, she was able to do something about it. Rats were scurrying across the wet floor. They were going in, and out of Miss Collins’ room, and Miranda had to fight between the urges of shrieking, and throwing up. Miss Collins could not stop crying out for help as the rats had her cornered between the toilet, and the bed.

“Help! Is someone there! Oh, no! No! Please!” she cried out as a rat nibbled on her nightgown.

Despite her disgust, Miranda entered Miss Collins’ room, and shut the door behind her locking rats of all ages inside. Miss Collins hated rats. Miranda noticed everyone hated rats except Roberta. They did not bother her.

“You can stop your screaming, because I have a plan with a capital P.” announced Miranda. “Poison. We get back at these bastards for what they’re doing to us. They expect us to be amenable. Ha!” she said holding out a small vial. “They missed this in the search. I knew just where to hide it.”

“Where?”

Then Miranda got a very serious look on her face.

“Don’t ask… This is homemade, and quite potent. Just a few drops will do. Comes from great teachings from my father on the importance of knowing what is in your garden. My father… He signed everything… I usually put this in my purse for self-defense. One splash to the eyes, well, just imagine!” said Miranda with a chuckle. “Oh, my! You, and me… we’re going to have fun!

Part IV- Who’s Next?

“Roberta, who’s next?” Dr. Huxley asked while chomping a peeled carrot.

“That was your last patient,” Roberta said.

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed. “Then bring me brandy, and… and ten milliliters of Haldol… and one for you as well.” Roberta disappeared then reappeared as always with the order. “You know, they’ll never trust me. Not a one of them.” he told her. “I won a medal. Did you know that?” He sipped his brandy, and they both shot back the Haldol. “I was one hell of a fighter, too. I had thirteen confirmed kills. Not something a man should be proud of… I was doing my duty! Is it hot in here?” he asked as he wiped his brow. “With those lost lives weighing me down, I took to doing the Lord’s work. You know, helping people. I understand if they don’t like the treatments they receive, but I do what I can with what I have, and I’ve had successful results! Just let them scream. I heard worse in the war! Is it hot in here, I say?” he asked as he patted his forehead dry with his soaked sleeve. He could not stop sweating yet he felt chills at the same time.

“I’m burning up.” said Roberta fanning herself. Pain hit them both like a bludgeon. They both began to foam at the mouth, and they fell to their knees. The foam was bubbly, and it had a green tinge. This was a problem Dr. Huxley had no training for. He did not know how to fix this, and that scared him.

“What is happening? What is happening to us?” cried Roberta. They grabbed at their burning throats. They gasped for air as Miranda, and Miss Collins entered the room.

“Control yourself, Dr. Huxley!” screamed Miss Collins, but this time it was a scream of joy. Miranda held out the vial that swung on a gold chain, and sparkled in the firelight.

“I killed my husband. Why wouldn’t I kill you? You should’ve handcuffed me to the bed.” Dr. Huxley, and Roberta could see Miss Collins jumping around wildly as they faded into the afterlife. It began to rain, and outside the wolves began to howl, and Miranda could be seen smiling the biggest smile of her life. She poured brandy on the bodies and lit a match. She had to get out of that asylum no matter what. The sea. The sea! She thought. She did not care about the others. Not even Miss Collins. It was every man for themselves as she set the two bodies ablaze. They were never going to give her shocks again.

Dr. Huxley’s embroidered notebook caught Miranda’s eye. She thumbed through it, and couldn’t believe the things she read. Then she saw a page with her name on it.

“Cute? Pervert!” she said as she threw the notebook into the flames right on top of Huxley’s burning face. Miranda did not need a doctor to tell her she was cute, or to tell her what her purpose was. She knew. It was to entertain millions, and soon this dream would become a reality. There would be no waves for Miranda that night for she knew she would soon make the front page… again. Outside, there were performances to be done, and she was going to do them.

Part V- The Sea!

As Miranda approached the cliff by the sea, her eyes widened at its great beauty. The sun was on the rise, and she could see seagulls chasing fairies as their passengers threw pieces of bread into the air for them to eat. The sound- peaceful. All would be well.

“Miranda!” she heard a voice yell. Miss Collins? She thought. Miranda took a few steps back from the cliff. “Miranda! Don’t do it! It’s me the sea wants. It wants me!” And as Miss Collins raced madly towards the cliff still barefoot, and improperly dressed, Miranda pictured her with wings as Miss Collins yelled, “It’s okay! Please! This time- let me save you!” Then she jumped a nice jump, and as she went down, Miranda hummed tearfully, Dido’s Lament.