The cat sits before the window, bathing in the liquid sun, fur melting into a puddle of grey. The day had been sunny and overly warm for the young girl in the purple dress. She spent most of her days outside but was picky when it came to the weather. She hated having to change out of her short dress with long, lace sleeves. Not too hot, not too cold. She rested her head on the back of her pet, her wide pots of honey glowing in the sunlight. She sighed and tangled her hands into the threads of the carpet and twisted her legs around each other. She pressed her lips together and began to hum the song her mother described as hers. “My sweet Caroline. Always remember the good times,” She would say as she pulled her daughter close. “How can I hurt when holding you?” Caroline’s eyes drooped closed and she let herself fall into the image of her mother.

Caroline awoke, curled on her side and saw the darkness of night through the window. The cat had left her sprawled on the floor alone, wrapped in the sheer curtains. She stood to adjust her lavender dress and patted down the wrinkles. She twirled to the side and waved her body loosely around. Her steps echoed through the lonely house as she moved forward in a swaying motion, dancing her way to the kitchen. Her hair bounced freely about her, caressing her cheeks ever so tenderly. She jumped up, sat on the counter and plucked a white rose from the vase on the small windowsill. She pressed it to her nose and breathed in the flower’s freshness, letting a sigh escape her lips. Her fingers twirled the stem and she began to pick the petals one by one. Her toes wiggled and legs swung as they dangled from the countertop. She placed one of the petals in her mouth and smiled at the smoothe residue it left on her tongue. She stood on the white granite to look down at her enormous home. People she vaguely recognized looked up at her with blank expressions. She caught the eyes of one boy in particular and felt a shiver run over her body. He had a deep sadness radiating from his chest. The feeling pierced Caroline’s heart and she reached out to his face. Her fingers chilled his warm skin and his shaggy hair fell into his bright blue eyes. A grin formed on his lips and she suddenly remembered those eyes. That smile. Her mouth began to form his name when the ceiling grabbed her brother’s arms and took him into the sky. She leaped to the floor and her hands swam around the empty air where her brother just stood. Where had he gone?

She moved over to the wall and traced her finger along a masterpiece of color. She found the dark purple swirls and stared deeply into them. Purple was her mother’s favorite. So now it was hers. She began to hum her song again and bounced legs at the “bum bum bum” part. She turned and slid down the wall until her legs were sprawled on the floor in front of her. The young girl in the purple dress waved her arms in front of her. Her fingers braided together in multiple loops and she watched as they grew longer and longer. She smiled as they became tree trunks and leaves sprouted from the place where her fingernails used to be. Her eyes glistened at the bright red apple that rolled onto the floor. She crawled to it but every inch she took towards it, the farther away it felt. She frowned and the trees reverted back into themselves. She looked down at her hands and tilted her head to the side. Her nails pressed into her palms and she pushed herself up to her feet. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for her mother. Where was her mother? She wanted that apple. She looked back on the wood where it was just sitting, but it was gone. Where had the bright red apple gone? She looked down at her dress. It was no longer purple without her mother nearby. She wanted her mother so that her dress would be purple. Where was her mother?

Caroline curled her toes and cracked her knuckles one by one. She breathed deeply into the air and twirled her dress. She loved the way it looked when the purple faded into itself when she twirled. But now it was black. Caroline hated the color black because her mother hated the color black. She ripped the dress off and threw it into the sink. Her finger flicked a switch on the wall and her other hand shoved the dress into the garbage disposal. She watched as pieces of fabric flew into the air and cuts began to form on her hands. But she kept her hand in the disposal. The dress needed to be completely destroyed. She smiled at its demise. She began to laugh, a low chuckle from deep inside of her. Once she started she couldn’t stop. She pulled her hand from the sink and saw a purple liquid coating her skin. Her laughing continued and she began to drag her hand over her naked body.  The amusement displayed itself all over her face. She danced around the white kitchen, the gargling from the sink was her music. She wanted her mother to see her in this new skin. She was becoming something new, more like the person she felt on the inside. “This is me!” She shouted. “I am Caroline!” Her new existence was a radiation of sunbeams warming her chest. She smiled and looked down at the people who loved her. Her head tilted from side to side as if to show off her new self. She laid down on the hard floors and released her arms and legs of any stress. Her mind fell back into a deep rest.

The man in the white coat’s eyes began to burn. He watched patient 935 lielay in a heap on the padded white floor through a small screen. The man stood at once and clicked his way down the long hallway. She awoke to the sound of his shoes clicking loudly like a drum through the halls, ringing in her head. Click, click, click. She started to laugh. Caroline loved it when the man in white came because he had a big nose and soft voice and was so funny for her to look at. She began to laugh harder and harder as the walls around her disappeared and she fell into a cloud of purple mist that made her head feel foggy. At this point her laughs were completely out of her control. Her mind dissociated from her body and floated to the ceiling. Caroline looked down at herself with a blank stare as the purple girl rocked in a ball on the floor and Caroline wanted her mother to go make it stop. Take away the cloudiness in her head and make her body less shaky. Where was Caroline’s mother? She needed her mother to take away the pain.

The man in white came into the room and his eyes went wide. He had only left Ppatient 935 alone for only 10 minutes and she was now naked, curled on the floor and covered in blood. He ran to her and looked deeply into her eyes and she stared back but seemed to be on another planet. He picked up her cold, limp and looked to see blood caking her fingernails. His eyes moved to the deep scratch marks all over her body and he wondered how anyone could do something like this to themselves. His fingers found a syringe from his bag and he filled it with an orange liquid. He gritted his teeth and plunged it into her arm and within moments he watched as Ppatient 935 retreated into herself and her eyes closed. 

Orange honeysuckle dripped in through Caroline’s mouth. She loved the way that it stung her tongue and made her body feel like static. Her mother seeped in with the liquid and Caroline couldn’t contain her joy. She reached out to her mother and fell into the warmth of her embrace. She had finally found her and was never going to let her go.

The man in the white coat watched as the rocking of his patient’s body ceased and a long sigh escaped her lips. He bent down to check her pulse but was left with nothing. The medicine didn’t work this time. He was usually able to revive Caroline from her episodes but something was keeping her from coming back. He picked her up from the ground and brought her to one of the hospital rooms with a bed. She lay stiffly under the papery blanket and the doctor sucked in a deep breath. He looked down at the girl and noticed dark red words dug into her arm. How can I hurt when holding you? He rubbed his temples and walked swiftly back to his office and closed the door behind him. His leg bounced as he poured himself over her file on his desk. What had he done wrong? The past few weeks he saw real improvement in Caroline and she hadn’t had any hallucinations in a little over a month now. She was taking her medication every morning and night and he was actually building a comfortable relationship with her, pulling more and more trauma out into the open. There was no explanation to why she fell into an episode today or to why she wouldn’t wake up. What did the words mean that were carved into her arm? He scratched his head and leaned back in his chair. A loud beep on the monitor from the room over could only mean one thing. Patient 935 was gone.