"What do you think, Frank?" Melanie asked, sitting at his kitchen table as he poured them both some tea.
Frank sat across from her and opened a package of cookies, saying, "What do I think about what?" "You know what," Mel replied, "You're the only other person I know who's...you know...not there, mentally, and I trust you, so...so what do you think? Am I having a psychotic break? I stopped taking my meds for a while, but I started again, so I shouldn't be having this problem. Please just tell me that what I'm experiencing is real...or...isn't real, I actually don't know which one would be more preferable. Both are terrifying, really." "I don't think it matters which it is, as much as how it affects you, and it seems to have affected you poorly," Frank said, "...tell me what happened, from the beginning." And so Melanie took a deep breath, rubbed her eyes and told him the story. The story about the tape. *** "He's building an ark?" Bea asked, and Gus nodded. Melanie was sitting in the backseat, as Gus drove with Bea in the passenger seat, eating a small bag of chips she got at the grocery. The trunk of the car was packed with full grocery bags, for both Gus and Melanie; Bea added, "Why is he building an ark?" "Because he's clearly a well balanced individual," Gus said, sneering as Bea chuckled. "He says that the world is going to be flooded again, and that the voices told him to do it," Melanie said, "That it was for the safety of anyone who wanted to use it. I think it's cool. He's doing something most people never could. Not necessarily of his own volition, but whatever." "I suppose that's one way to look at it," Bea said. "Hey, if you had a voice in your head that told you to either to kill someone or do woodworking, I think the latter is more preferable," Gus said, all of them laughing and agreeing as Gus continued, "but he's a nice guy, I've talked to him a handful of times, and his ark is nearly finished now. It's amazing." "I'll have to see this thing sometime," Bea said. As they carried the bags upstairs and entered their respective apartments, Melanie suddenly realized she'd dropped her wallet in the hall, and went back out to see a package sitting in front of her door. She glanced around, but didn't see anybody, and this certainly hadn't been there when they first showed up. She knelt down and, cautiously, picked it up. She gathered her wallet as well and headed back inside her apartment, shutting and locking her door for safe measure. Melanie opened the package, and found that all there was inside was a VHS tape, with a label that simply read "WATCH ME." Melanie pulled the VCR she'd gotten at a thrift store out of the closet and set it up to the old TV she had in her living room, then sat on the floor and popped the tape inside. As she sat and stared at the screen, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of dread and excitement come over her, and she'd find by the end of the tape that that mixture was pretty accurate. The screen flickered the life, and the first thing she saw was her father. *** Chris was sitting at the kitchen table, clearly filling out paperwork of some kind or another. He coughed into his arm, and then felt someone tug on his arm. He glanced to his side to see Melanie there, pulling gently on his sweater, and he smiled as he scooted his chair out and let her climb up and sit in his lap. "What're you doing?" she asked. "I am filling out paperwork," he said. "What for?" "Health insurance," Chris said. "What's that?" "It's like...in case you get sick, like really sick, you can get the proper kind of care and not pay exorbitant amounts of money for the right to live. It also means that if something happens to you, then your family will be taken care of, but that's generally more only in the case of an accident." "Oh," Melanie said, looking up at him and asking, "...are you sick?" "No," Chris said, smiling at her and kissing her forehead, "No I'm not sick, I'm just doing this in case. It's important to have things in order, you know, just in case. You never know what's going to happen in life, so I wanna make sure - you know, just in case - that you and your brother and your mom would be taken care of." Melanie snuggled into his lap and adjusted her tiara. "I'm glad you're okay," she said, hugging him, as he chuckled and patted the top of her head. "You and me both, kiddo," he said. *** Melanie sat there, staring at the screen, uncertain of what to think or feel. After a few minutes, she finally stood up and shut the TV off, then went to the window. She pulled it open and looked out towards Franks, spying him in the backyard, working on his ark, painting it. She wanted to say something, but as she put her fingers to her mouth to whistle, the TV came back on, and the tape resumed. She walked back around to the front of the TV and looked at it, confused as yet another scene of her father played out in front of her. *** Chris was sitting with Melanie in her bedroom, as they played with plastic horses parading around a toy castle, the both of them having the time of their life. Melanie opened the giant toy castle and sat her horse in the throne, making Chris start laughing. "What?" she asked. "The horse is the king?" he asked. "Why not?" she asked, "He's brave and smart! That's what a king is!" "I can't argue with that," Chris said, still laughing, "That's some imagination you have there though." "She gets it from you," Karen said, leaning against the doorframe, smiling as she watched, "Lord knows I'm creatively bankrupt." "Hey, don't say that," Chris said, standing up, leaving the playfield as he walked to the door and put his hands on his wifes hips, pulling her closer and rubbing his nose against hers, making her giggle as he added, "You obviously saw something in me, and that took some kind of imagination cause boy am I milquetoast." "Hah!" Karen said, laughing loudly. Melanie sat and played, but also watched her parents, and smiled. She wanted what they had. She wanted someone to love her the way they loved one another, and she promised herself that, one day, she'd find it for herself. She just didn't know at the time that what she really wanted was, in fact, from the same sex. *** It was like watching memories, and it scared her. She wasn't sure what to think. She shut the TV off again, and this time it didn't turn back on. Melanie finally gathered herself up enough and headed back to the window, finally whistling at Frank, who waved up at her. "Can I come over?" she asked, and he gave a thumbs up. Now, sitting in his kitchen, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made the right decision telling him about it. Frank twirled his mug around in circles and thought for a few moments, before finally taking another cookie from the package and eating it, only speaking when he was finished. "You're not crazy, Melanie," he said, "Plenty of people have told you this. And even if you are, that's not a bad thing. People look at mental health much differently today than they used to, and you have a community of people who care deeply about you, and want to help you. Any idea who might've left the tape with you?" "That's the thing, Frank, I..." Mel started, but stopping herself, chewing on her lip and clearly mulling over choosing her words carefully before finally saying, "...I was going to bring it with me, but when I went back to get it, it wasn't there. Neither was the packaging. It was like it didn't exist, and I'm afraid I simply hallucinated the whole thing." "Well...yeah, that...that definitely throws a wrench into things," Frank said, "When did you start taking your medication again?" "A few days ago," Melanie said, "Almost immediately after that thing with....you know, and Darren getting stabbed." "They could be subconscious memories you've simply repressed coming up to the limelight," Frank said, "At least they were pleasant, you know? They don't sound as though they were negative. They were both about your father, and spending time with him, and that sounds nice." "I...I guess, yeah," Melanie said, "but why would it be those two in particular?" "Maybe because you were recently knee deep in loss, or near loss. I mean in the span of one evening, you lost someone you thought you had romantic potential with, and almost lost someone who treats you like family. Between she who shall not be named and Darren, I imagine it was fairly psychologically straining, and maybe this was your brain trying to tell you, 'hey, yeah, thinks are scary, but see, people DO love you', even if it's just memories of your dad." "I feel like I'm losing it, Frank," Melanie said, putting her face in her hands, her elbows posted up on the table, "I can't...I can't even tell what's real and what's not anymore. I feel like I'm backsliding on all the progress I tried to make." "Recovery, from what I've been told, is never a straight line, it's a serious of highs and lows, peaks and valleys, so you pick yourself back up and you try again," Frank said, finishing his tea, "Like me with my ark. It took me so long to find the right measurements, the right materials, everything. I tore down 3 separate versions before finally completing the one you see outside now. I was discouraged, but I never let it stop me." Melanie smiled and nodded. Oddly enough, talking to Frank more than anyone else always made her feel more heard, and perhaps it was because he too was people would consider somewhat 'unstable', but really, Melanie couldn't figure out why. He was the sanest person she knew. The two of them headed outside to look at the ark, and - standing there staring up at it - they couldn't help but smile. Hell, she figured, if Frank could accomplish his goal, she certainly could, hallucinations be damned. *** Emma opened the door to the hospital room and found Darren sitting in his bed, making it go up and down repeatedly with his handheld control. She stopped and stared at him as she held a styrofoam box in her hand and smirked until he stopped. "You done?" she asked. "You gotta make your own fun in here," Darren said, making her laugh as she approached and plopped the box onto his lap. He opened it up and looked at the delicious burger and fries she'd picked up for him on her way here. Emma took her seat in the chair beside him, and rubbed his shoulder. "So I've been told that I can take you home this coming week," Emma said, "and I've made the bed more accessible, and you'll probably have to use a cane for a while to help you walk. Either way, I've picked up a brochure that gives you some design options." "Oooh, fancy," Darren said, taking the brochure from her that she'd pulled from her purse; he opened it and cleared his throat, asking, "You think the term brochure came about because some guy asked his friend 'hey, you wanna see some ideas?' and his friend was like 'bro, sure'?" "I really wish you'd died," Emma said, making them both laugh. This was the closest they'd felt in months, and it was nice, almost as if they'd gone back in time to when they had just started dating. Emma slid her chair closer and pushed her face against his shoulder, kissing it. "I can't believe I almost lost you," she whispered, and he kissed the top of her head. "Well you didn't, so," he said, making her smile as he glanced at the brochure, saying, "Hey, I can get a black cane made of marble with a gold eagle head on top. I'm going to be SO fancy." *** Melanie couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned, playing back the whole day in her head. She finally sat up, frustrated, and went to her closet, pulling the doors open and finding her tiara. She put it on her head and, in her pajamas, headed out of her apartment and down the hall to Allen's apartment. Maybe he could give her some sort of comfort. She knew Gus would be busy with Bea, or they were asleep, so Allen was her only option in terms of proximity. As she approached his apartment door, she noticed there was no light coming from it, and she couldn't hear any noise coming from inside. Melanie leaned against the door and sighed, rubbing her eyes. She couldn't take this much anymore. Maybe she'd start taking double her medication, even though she knew if she did, it'd likely be against her doctors advice. Melanie walked back to her apartment, just as Gus's door opened and she saw Bea standing there. "Where you going, princess?" Bea asked. "Back to bed, I guess," Melanie said, shrugging, "You?" "Sneaking out for a smoke," Bea said, before approaching Mel and putting her arms around her, whispering, "I'm so sorry for what happened to you and your friend." Melanie couldn't help it, she started sobbing into Bea's chest as she rubbed her back. Turned out that all she'd needed, as usual, was her medieval posse, and arguably there were none better than to protect her than The Black Knight.
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Royally Screwed follows 24 year old Melanie Irres, an average young woman...who legitimately believes she's a princess. Archives
July 2023
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