Always Watching

other members. My hands shook, and I was crying so hard I couldn’t finish. Aaron grabbed the list and read my final confession. Then he handed the list back to me.
    “You’re not done.”
    “I can’t. Please, I don’t want to.” I met his eyes, begging for leniency, but he was impassive, his only expression one of disappointment.
    “Don’t you want to be like the group? Everyone else shared theirs, and if you don’t, you’ll disrupt our harmony.”
    I looked around at the angry faces, Heidi touching her belly, her face scared. I read my last confession, my voice quavering. “I love my mom, but sometimes … sometimes I hate her. I wish she was more like my friends’ moms. I wish she was normal.” I searched the crowd, finding my mother, her blue eyes filling with tears. I held her gaze, my own tears dripping down my face. Trying to convey my thoughts: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just angry.
    She turned away.
    *   *   *
    By the time we’d been at the commune for five months, I had retreated into myself, barely speaking. I spent all my time with the animals and began to have fantasies about running away. I might have tried if it hadn’t been for Willow, a pretty, doe-eyed teenage girl, with caramel-colored hair that hung to her waist, who joined the commune that June. She told me about the places she’d hitchhiked to, the people she met on her way. She also told me I was going to be beautiful when I grew up. She gave me a beaded necklace, draping it around my neck, teasing me with her husky laugh for being shy. That day she’d been wearing faded bell-bottom jeans and a man’s cinnamon-colored leather vest with tassels, which hung on her small frame, her feet bare, and one toe sparkling with a ring. I didn’t know if I was going to be beautiful or not. I just knew I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be free.

 
    CHAPTER SIX
    Before I started my rounds, I consulted with the nurses. Michelle told me that after Daniel left the day before, Heather had gone back to bed and slept through the night—she had to be coaxed out for a shower and breakfast. Then she’d gone back to the seclusion room and had been sleeping ever since. She was only responding briefly when spoken to and was still lethargic. I wasn’t surprised that she’d retreated into herself after our initial meeting, as patients’ moods often ebb and flow. When I entered the seclusion room, I found her in the same position as the day before—curled into a ball.
    “Heather, can you come out for a little bit? I’d like to talk to you.” We can meet with patients in the seclusion rooms, as I had her first morning in the unit, but we try to encourage them to come out because it’s better if they stay active.
    She shook her head, mumbled something.
    I kept my voice cheerful. “I know you’re tired, so I won’t keep you for long. Then you can go back to bed and have a nice snooze.” When patients are first admitted, we focus on their basic needs, making sure they’re drinking lots of water, eating, and showering, because they usually just want to sleep. Once they’re more alert, we begin to work with them on a care plan. This conversation would just be a quick assessment to see how she was settling in.
    Heather finally rolled over and slowly got to her feet. She didn’t bother putting on the robe Daniel had brought, just shuffled behind me, her head down and her hair concealing her face.
    In the interview room, I started off with some basic questions.
    “How are you sleeping?”
    “I’m tired.” She looked it, her head drooping, body slumped in the chair.
    “You can go back to bed soon. Maybe this afternoon you’d like to come out and watch a little TV. What do you think?”
    She didn’t answer.
    I asked a few more general questions: How are you managing? Are you still having bad thoughts? Is there anything you need? And got the bare minimum answers: Fine; yes; I want Daniel.
    I said, “I’m sure he’ll be up this afternoon.”
    “Can I go back to bed now?”
    I ended our session at that point and led her back to the seclusion room. Based on her current state, she was still too depressed to do any real emotional work, so we wouldn’t be able to discuss her care plan for another few days, which is when we’d also increase her antidepressant if she wasn’t suffering any side effects.
    *   *   *
    Over the next couple of days, there was no change in Heather’s condition. The nurses told me that