Madeline Takes a Stand

Katelyn spent three years in prison, with frequent trips to the mental hospital for med readjustment. Her doctors fought to keep her longer on her last visit, knowing what going back would do to her. The board of managers annulled her doctor's conclusion, forcing them to release her back to the Arkansas Department of Correction's care.

"Please don't let them take me, please! I'll be good, I promise." Katelyn cries.

"That's enough," an officer scolds, pulling her away from the staff.

"I'll die if I go back there. Please don't let me die, please, I beg you, don't let me die," Katelyn bawls.

Not being able to stand her heartbreaking pleas a second longer, the staff tearfully walks back inside.

"Don't worry, Betty. She'll visit again soon."

"I hope so," she sniffles Betty has grown very fond of her and worries about what jail will do to her both mentally and physically. She also knows that Katelyn is only one of the thousands that should be in a mental institution instead of prison. With limited funding and bed space, the hospital can't possibly house everyone who needs help. It's a broken system with no plausible solution in sight. Betty figures the only thing she can do is take care of her patients for the duration of their stay and pray for their safety when they're forced to leave.

Katelyn didn't return, despite the need for medical assistance. When her actions become out of control, the warden orders her to solitary confinement until her release. Being enclosed in a cold, empty cell twenty-three hours a day worsened her mental status.

Katelyn is sleeping on a worn-out mattress in the far corner of her room when she's woken by keys rattling outside her door.

It's not free time already. No, it can't be. I haven't eaten breakfast yet. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she gazes around her damp, dreary room.

Katelyn knows she would've gone insane months ago if the guards didn't let her wander outside for an hour a day. She still isn't allowed to see anyone, but at least she's able to get out of her small enclosure, move around a bit. Every four days, her time is extended long enough to take a quick shower if she's behaved.

Curious about her irregular visit, she swings her legs over her bed. Her feet land on something wet and soggy. Disgusted by the squish under her toes. Pulling her feet up, she rummages for her shoes.

A bright light fills her small cell. Squinting, she looks towards the light to find a large gray rat scurry into the hall. See you later, George, she thinks, watching the rodent dart out of sight.

She was frightened of the furry creature at first, but after the first month of lockdown, she started looking forward to his visits. Before long, she even gave him scraps of food, hoping that'd he'd stay.

"You're free to go," the officer states.

"I...I don't understand."

"What's to understand? You served your time, and now you're free to leave."

Katelyn glances around. Can it be true; am I really out of this hell hole for good?

"Hurry up, I don't have all day," he orders, stepping into her room.

"What about my clothes?"

"I'll give you five minutes to shower and change."

I really am free. A sobering thought comes to mind as she rushes towards the door. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"That's not my problem." He slaps the cuffs on her wrists.

Katelyn is given a $50 check and a bus ticket as she's being rushed out the door.

"The bus will be here in a few minutes, so you need to get down there before it comes." A guard says, opening the remaining gate.

Stepping outside, she turns around. Although the prison's conditions leave a lot to be desired, she at least had a roof over her head and food in her stomach. Now, she isn't certain where she'll go or when she'll eat next.

Noticing her hesitate, the guard curiously asks. "Don't you want to leave?"

"I don't have anywhere to go."

"Your family won't help you?"

"They disowned me years ago, and I'm sure all my friends have moved away."

"Hold on." He runs inside. A few minutes later, he comes back with a business card in his hand.

"I called a halfway house; they said they could take you for a week or two."

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much," she cries, hugging him.

He pushes her away. Seeing the hurt look on her face, he explains. "I don't want them to think I've gone soft."

"I understand." Grabbing the business card from his hand, she continues. "I'll report to my PO first thing in the morning, sir," she yells.

"See to it that you do." Leaning over, he whispers, "My ass is on the line here, so don't screw up. Got it?"

"I won't mess up."

"You better get down there because he won't stop if he doesn't see anyone." He knows he shouldn't get personally involved, but there is something different about that girl, a special quality that tugs at his heartstrings.

***

Katelyn is dropped off at an unfamiliar corner on the outskirts of town. Looking around, she sees abandoned buildings on either side of the street. Newspaper and other debris are blowing in the wind.

This can't be right. She looks at her card, then back at then the signs again. Realizing it,' right, her heart sinks. I'll have to make the most of it, I guess.

The address ends up being a rundown motel on the corner of fifth and main. Her stomach tightens into a large hard knot the moment she steps inside. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves as she looks around. It's a roof over my head and food in my stomach, she reassures herself.

A group laughs as she rushes by. Angry, she spins around. The teasing she got as a child suddenly comes to mind. "I'm not a zombie girl. I'm not, I'm not. Not anymore," she screams. Thrusting her fists down by her side. The room grows eerily quiet. Realizing what she did, Katelyn spins around. Seeing a guy behind a desk, she hurries towards him.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"My name is Katelyn Howard. I was told you have a room for me."

"Who sent you, honey?"

"The warden."

"You'll be sharing a room with three other girls."

"That's fine."

"We have house rules you have to follow." Handing her a piece of paper, he continues, "if you break any of these rules, you're out on the street. The doors are locked at ten. There will be no drinking or drug use. You'll find employment within the first two weeks and housing in 60 days."

"If I can't?"

"You'll be living on the streets. Since I'm not getting government funding for you, I expect you to do a few extra things to earn your keep. Grabbing her arm, he pulls her down a small flight of concrete stairs. "You'll love my man cave." Unlocking the door, he shoves her inside.

Katelyn first sees a red glowing bulb hanging from a chain in the center of the room. She then notices his large assortment of medieval-looking devices scattered haphazardly along the wall. Frightened by the room's decor, she turns to leave.

He grabs her arms to stop her. "Welcome to my chamber of love." He laughs.

***

"I mean it, Stan, I'll do it this time," Madeline warns, shakily holding the gun out in front of her. She's threatened bodily harm before but has always chickened out in the end.

"No, don't do it, Madeline," Marge screams, springing to her feet.

Reaching over, Stan takes her gun away. "Get me some lunch, woman, before I use this thing on you.." Opening the chamber, he continues. "You can be a real idiot sometimes, threatening to kill me with an unloaded gun." He laughs.

Lowering her head, Madeline trudges towards their kitchen.

"No, Madeline, don't do it, let asshole fix his own lunch. It'd serve him right for treating everyone this way," Marge says, stepping in front of her.

"I've had just about enough of your meddling, Marge." Pointing to the door, he continues I want you to get out of my house and stay out."

"It's Madeline's home too, and she wants me to stay, right, Honey?"

Madeline looks up at her, tears in her eyes. "Please, just go."

"You heard the woman."

Glaring at Stan, Marge says, "You hurt one hair on their heads, and I'll be back, Stan. I guarantee that my gun will be loaded and ready to go."

"You don't scare me," Stan laughs.

Angry, Marge storms over to where he's standing. Pinning his plump body against the wall, she glares into his eyes.

"Don't think for a second that I won't do to you what I did to my ex."

Marge's first husband, Jimmy, was very abusive. A little over a month into their marriage, Jimmy disappears.

You and Jimmy are going to be reunited soon. Shoving him a second time, Marge walks out their door. Smiling, she strolls to her car.