UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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Inside the Ward
The nurse who works night shift
waves me over to the counter
with her roly-poly arms.
She’s eaten way too many Ding Dongs.
“You’re in three B with Donya,” she says.
“But don’t you act like that rotten girl.
Not if you want to get outta here.”
I see a purple Mohawk poke out of the bedroom
followed by Donya’s pale blue eyes.
She waits for Ding Dong to turn her back
then flicks her middle fingers,
two at once,
double-barreled.
Donya’s the kind of girl I like right away.
She slips down the hall and I follow her
to a room where kids are squished in beanbag chairs
watching a flat-screen TV bolted behind thick plastic.
They turn to look at me and I can feel their eyes
crawling on my skin like red ants,
measuring,
judging,
labeling,
just like at school.
The Donya pulls me aside
and tells me how she’s been
committed five times
and that the Baker Act
is a giant Epic Fail
just like everything else in Florida.
“I can’t wait till I’m eighteen,” she says.
“So I can ditch this moron state.”
I ask her why she’s here—at Attaboys,
and she gives me one of those
zigzag answers that don’t say anything specific.
Just that she hates life.
In general.
“You can see how that’s a problem, right?” she says.
Then she tells me how easy it is
to hide your feelings around here.
“All you gotta do is pretend to be happy.
These Sunshine Suckers eat it up.”
Then she tells me to say:
Yes
I’ll eat their slimy green Jell-O.
No
I don’t mind sharing my life story
with total strangers.
Yes
I’m feeling so much better now.
No
I’ve never heard voices.
She looks at the bandages on my arm.
“And for God’s sakes,
don’t say anything stupid
like algebra homework
makes you want to kill yourself.
Not even as a joke.
There’s no jokes in here.
Just reasons for them to keep you longer.”
Donya shuts up and motions toward the door.
The night nurse is walking in.
“Lights out, my little bandulus,” Ding Dong says.
And it’s kind of sick,
but everyone gets up,
without saying a word,
and we follow her down the hall.
Like the good little Baker Actors that we are.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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The Whole Time I’m Getting Ready for Bed
Ding Dong stands in the doorway
clicking a pineapple sucker between her teeth.
She takes the soap bar when I’m done,
squeezes a lump of Colgate on my fingertip,
and watches so I don’t strangle myself with dental floss.
When she’s gone, I open my nightstand
looking for something to read,
but all I find are notes
scribbled inside the drawer.
I want to get out of here
F U Attaboys
Help
Then I lie down on my cold, stiff sheets,
and I kick myself for the millionth time.
You freaking idiot!
Why didn’t you just wait till you got home?
And I listen to Donya
grinding her teeth
and the sound of traffic
gunning across the bridge,
and I think about all the people
outside our shatterproof window,
coming and going,
laughing and living,
hoping and dreaming,
sharpening their
perfect little pencils
and never once thinking
about breaking the plastic
to take out the blade.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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I’m Having a Nightmare
A terrible dream where I’m running
down a dark country road
and lightning is slashing
across the purple sky.
Then I see this horse.
A gruesome, white, wild-eyed horse.
Rearing in a barren field.
Tearing its flesh on the barbed wire fence.
I bolt awake.
My heart pounding.
Fingers cold.
I look around for my alarm
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