Echo(58)

Disbelief consumes me as I read the words. I grow frantic as I continue to scour through the papers. I will my eyes to focus on the words, but I feel myself on the verge of flipping out.

This can’t be real. This can’t be true.

Mental Illness . . . Postpartum Depression . . . Manic Depression . . .

I keep reading, and with each word my mind fights to process, I come unhinged. The room begins to tunnel around me, and my chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.

Prosecutor: “Mrs. Archer, did you negotiate the sale of your two-month-old daughter, Elizabeth Archer?”

Defendant: “Yes.”

A hysterical explosion of tinnitus ricochets in my head, piercing, shooting an unrelenting blast of pain. My hands clutch tightly to the papers as my vision teeters in and out of focus. I squint, determined to read further, but I’m fading out fast when my eyes scan: Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity.

The papers drop, scattering across the floor as my hands shoot up to my ears in an attempt to mute the high-pitched ringing, but it’s coming from inside my head. It’s splitting my skull as it builds. The welling of every emotion inside of me creates an unbearable pressure, and I need release.

I can’t take it.

It’s so loud, so painful, too alive, too much.

Oh my God! She sold me.

Shuffling over my own feet, I have no balance as I move across the room. I can’t hear anything aside from the squealing in my ears. I stumble and catch myself from falling, gripping on to the closet door handle. Gasping for breath, my eyes blur, and I begin crying—sobbing—wailing—screaming.

She never even wanted me.

Standing in the doorway to the closet, I grab on to the doorframe and hold tightly as I drop my head. My vision diminishes in a wild haze, and it’s too much to contain. I can’t handle the overwhelming hysteria inside of me anymore.

I can’t do it.

I’m going to rupture.

I can’t do it.

I can’t.

Lifting my head, I dig my nails into the wood, splintering it with my forceful grip. In quick motions, I reel my head back, grit my teeth down, and use every ounce of force inside of me as I violently slam my head into the doorframe. Drawing back, I bear down and do it again, smashing my forehead into the solid wood. My vision bursts in pops of light.

There’s a pounding knock on the door, but it sounds miles away.

Thick, warm blood runs down my forehead, over my eyes and nose and cheeks. My body gives out and slides down to the floor. The ringing dampens and my body tingles in gratification as the blood oozes from my gashed head.

I faintly hear the door handle to my room ricketing back and forth, and then there’s banging.

“Open the door!”

I can’t focus on the voice yelling outside my room as the ringing returns to my ears, and the words I just read run back through my mind. Leaning my head back, my eyes begin to burn with the mixture of my tears, blood, and makeup. The sounds that engulf are out of control and torturous.

The banging grows louder, and I move my eyes to focus on the door.

“Open the f*cking door!”

I don’t even flinch when I hear the crashing and splitting of wood as the door is being kicked down because I’m too far gone. I’m lost inside myself and nothing feels real anymore.

Another kick, and I watch in a daze as Declan storms over to me.

“Oh my God!” I hear a woman shriek, and I know it’s Isla, but I keep my attention solely on Declan.

“Jesus!” he panics when his hands come to my face, but it all seems like a dream.

I can’t even feel his touch; my body singes in radiant tingles, but somehow the flesh is utterly numb.

“I need wet towels!” he shouts, and the ringing inside me settles to a low, monotone hum. It’s incessant.

“Should I call a medic?”

“No,” he snaps at Isla before dabbing the wet towel to my face.

I feel nothing though.

Is my heart even beating?

I know it must be when I finally feel the pressure of touch, but it isn’t from Declan. I roll my head to the side, and Pike is here with me. He takes my hand in his and holds it tightly.

“You’re here.”

“I’m always here.”

“Yeah, darling. I’m here. What happened?”

I faintly hear Declan’s voice, but it’s almost an echo as I concentrate on Pike.

“I miss you so much,” I say as I begin to weep through a new slew of tears.