Treasure Ch. 01-05

"That's fine, we need to stop for the night." He got up and patted her hand. "We'll talk more after you've gotten some sleep, all right Treasure?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm not going home?"

He shook his head. "We need to keep you under observation, you hit your head pretty hard." He looked at the orderly. "Let her eat, I don't think we need the restraints tonight," he said.

"Yes Doc," the man said as they left her alone.

Alone with her thoughts, and the voice in her head.

Dawn was a wreck by the time the psychiatrist finally met with them at nearly ten o'clock that night. It had been five hours since they had seen their daughter, and the police had left after being assured she was being placed on psychiatric hold. "How is our baby," Mark asked as he motioned them into his office and gestured for them to sit on the chairs.

"She's resting," he said. "We aren't giving her any sedatives due to her head injury, but we are monitoring her on camera and checking on her every few hours." Dawn started to cry, leaning into his arms. "I spent several hours with her, and her symptoms are classic. Did you know she has been having sudden-onset headaches accompanied by voices in her head for over a year now?"

Mark shook his head. "She never said anything about voices, but she did complain about migraines a few times."

"I told her to lie down in a quiet room and quit drinking so much Mountain Dew," Dawn said. "It was only a couple times, though."

"The last few months have been far more frequent. The episodes seem to be triggered by teasing or bullying. The voice today told her to teach her respect right before she had her psychotic break. The violent outburst is rare, but the rest is textbook schizophrenia." The doctor leaned forward, trying to comfort them. "Now that we know what we are dealing with, we can get her the help she needs. There have been many advances in treatment recently, and we can find the one that works best for her."

"She's a schizophrenic?"

"That is my diagnosis. What happened today was another episode, followed by a psychotic break. The violent outburst she had occurred while her mind was in a dissociative state. Her normal mind doesn't remember a thing, it's like another side took over. A violent side."

"Oh Jesus," Mark said. "Can it be cured?"

"We don't talk about cures with this, we talk about control," he said. "She needs to be monitored as we put her on a drug regimen that will help control the symptoms. She also needs intensive counseling, she has a lot of guilt right now and that has to be dealt with. I would like you to commit her for a seventy-two-hour psychiatric evaluation so we have time to start all this."

Mark looked at his wife, who was desperate for her to get help as she was. "All right, we'll sign," he said. "Can we see her?"

"I'm afraid not. She's already resting, and we don't know what triggers might occur with your presence." He slid over the form for Mark to sign. "It's late, go home and get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow at five to update you on her progress."

He led them to the door. "I need you to be strong for her, she's going to be confused and there still is the criminal matter to contend with. Use this time to get a lawyer for her and let us give her the treatment she needs."

"Thanks Doc," Mark said as they shook hands before they walked out the door.

Back in the padded room, sleep would not come to Rea. The images of waking up on the soccer field as a bloodied Denise was loaded into the ambulance was constantly appearing in her head, and in between was only the shocked and horrified faces of her friends. It didn't help that every hour a nurse would come in to take her vitals, monitoring for effects of her concussion.

She watched the door close as the nurse exited again, leaving her alone in a padded room in the psych ward. Nothing would ever be the same, she realized as tears ran down her face. No matter what she did or how sorry she was, people would always look at her with a mix of fear and disgust. Their faces haunted her, none more than seeing her best friend looking at her that way.

Even her parents must be regretting taking her in right now.

"It's all your fault," she told herself in her head. "There's something wrong with me, that is why my parents abandoned me. They knew I would be a monster, that I was dangerous."

She didn't expect the voice to respond, but it did, and she bit back a scream as the pain split her brain in half. "You and I are one. Quit fighting me and let me help," the voice implored.

"Never, I never want to hear you again," she said before she started screaming in pain, screaming for help. The voice pushed for her to listen, and she pushed back even harder to shut it up. The battle caused the pain in her head to increase, and she struggled against it before the blackness came.

"Looks like observation three is in trouble," the nurse said from her monitoring station at the main desk. Pressing an all-call button for the floor, the orderlies and available staff gathered around. They could hear the thumping against the padded door, and Doctor Thompson went to draw a sedative as they quickly went over the entry plan. Gathering outside the door, they waited until Rea had thrown her shoulder into the door before they opened it and rushed inside.

The bed had been trashed, and manic eyes greeted them as the fourteen-year-old girl stood bruised and bloody before them. They moved as they had practiced, one orderly diving and grabbing her legs while two others went for her arms. She fought and bit until the nurse was able to fit the muzzle over her face, and the Doctor injected her with a strong sedative. She said nothing, just growling and fighting until she fell limp to the floor. "Everyone all right," Doc Thompson asked.

"She bit me," one of the orderlies said as he looked at his forearm. Blood was dripping down his arm, and he was quickly taken by a nurse to have it cleaned. She was lifted and placed back on the bed, this time the straps were used to hold her down and the muzzle was left in place.

The Doctor checked her vitals and examined her for injuries. She would be in pain for a while, both shoulders were already showing bruising from trying to get out, and patches of hair were missing from where she tore it out. He covered her with a sheet, then sighed as he walked out the door to update his notes.

She was worse than he thought, and if he didn't find the right drug therapy for her soon, she was going to hurt someone again.

Ch. 5

Doctor Thompson greeted them and led them back to a conference room, where two of his colleagues were waiting. Mark felt his stomach drop when he saw their grim faces, and Dawn was gripping his hand tightly as they sat down. "How is Treasure doing," she asked, "And when can we see her?"

Doctor Thompson turned on a television and looked at them, his eyes didn't hold hope for them. "Treasure had to be sedated last night, she had another violent episode. I think you need to see this to understand what is going on with her right now." He pressed a button on the remote, and a video started to play on the screen.

Dawn gasped and brought her free hand over her mouth as she saw her daughter in the small room, her eyes closed but not for long. Her hands went to her head, and she let out a scream as her head tossed side to side in agony. They watched in horror as she pulled her hair out, screamed into the pillow and banged her head against the wall. She tried to get up but ended up rolling off the bed to the floor and it looked like she was having a seizure. It went on for another ten seconds or so before her movement stopped.

When she got up, it was like someone else was in control. She turned to the bed, pulling the sheets off and tearing the pillow apart. She then turned to the door, finding it locked. Backing up a few steps, she ran forward and slammed her shoulder into the door. Mark flinched as he watched his daughter bounce off the padded steel. The thudding noise sounded like she was hurting herself, but she didn't change her angry expression. She kept attacking the door, time after time without any sign of pain. "Oh God," Dawn said as she looked at the crazed eyes of her baby.

The door pushed open after another bounce, and orderlies swarmed into the room and tackled her. She screamed and fought, biting a man, blood smearing her face until the drugs took effect and she collapsed to the floor. Doctor Thompson paused the video as the injured man looked at his bleeding arm. "As you can see, there is a complete psychotic break during this video. She has no sense of reality, she wasn't feeling pain, and she acted with violence."

Dawn leaped up from her chair, running to the door before she started to throw up in the garbage can. Mark was at her side, holding her hair back, then walked her out to the bathroom while Doc called maintenance to deal with the mess. "That may have been too much for them to see so quickly," one doctor said.

"They needed to know how serious her condition is before we could do anything else," Doctor Thompson said. The staff was unified on the treatment; the hold wasn't enough, Treasure needed to be committed to the mental hospital and receive extensive therapy and drug treatments to get her schizophrenia under control.

It didn't take long for her parents to agree, and the high school freshman became the newest long-term resident of the mental health ward.

Two Months Later

The Treasure they picked up from the hospital was nothing like the one that had started the school year. Gone was the bubbly and energetic athlete, star of the soccer team and straight-A student.

Her eyes no longer had the shine, instead they were clouded over like her brain.

Her body was soft, the fifteen pounds she had gained covering what before had been toned muscle.

Her long red hair was gone, the multiple seizures causing enough to be torn out that they shaved her head in the first two weeks, making sure she couldn't grab it and pull it out again.

Mark hid his emotions as he watched the nurse push her wheelchair out to the waiting car. Dawn was walking alongside her, trying to make her feel that things were all right, that coming home would be the end of her troubles.

It was all a lie, he knew in his heart. Their troubles were just beginning.

He got out and helped her into the back, then walked Dawn around and opened the back seat for her. Dawn was already stroking her short hair as she leaned on her for support, the tears starting to flow even before he had buckled his seatbelt. Surprisingly, she hadn't raged against them for leaving her in the hospital, she was glad. It had been three weeks since she had heard the voice, and five since she had one of her psychotic breaks. Finding the right drug therapy to control her condition had taken weeks, and along the way she had been participating in counseling.

She wouldn't forgive herself if someone got hurt again.

The ride home was quiet, and there was no party to welcome her. Their extended family had been told to stay away, to give her time to adjust. The disappointment on her face when the door opened to an empty house and the slump of her shoulders told them they had miscalculated. Treasure turned back to them, tears forming in her eyes. "Grandma?"

"We asked her not to come yet, Treasure. We wanted to make sure you were ready."

"I can call her if you want," Dawn said. "We could invite her for lunch."

"I'd like that," she said. "I'm tired, I'm just going to go to my room for a bit and take a real shower." They watched her move slowly down the hall to her room and when she closed the door, Dawn broke down.

"I don't know what to do here, I don't know who she is anymore," she cried into his chest.

"It will get better, Doc told us the drugs would affect her energy and personality. It's going to get better. The important thing is she is getting the help she needs."

"It has to, she's barely living now."

In her room, Treasure overheard what they said as she flopped down onto her bed. Nothing much had changed since that day she left for school; her Mom had picked up and done the laundry, the stacks of folded clothes in a chair in the corner. It was good to be away from the hospital, she thought as she rolled onto her side.

A buzzing from the bedside table got her attention, and she looked at her phone. Mom must have brought it home and plugged it in, because when she opened her iPhone 4s, Jessie's picture came up. Smiling, she answered the call. "Jenny?"

"Oh GOD, you're finally home! I've missed you, Rea!"

"I've missed you too. I literally just walked in my bedroom, do you want to come over?"

There was a pause. "I can't, Rea. My parents don't want me to have anything to do with you anymore." Her heart sank in her chest and tears came to her eyes as the full import of her sentence hit her. "I had to sneak out just to call you, but I had to know you are all right."

Rea just laughed. "I'm a long way from all right, Jenny. I'm getting better, though."

"I have to get back, I'm changing your name so we can text, all right? I'll see you at school."

School. That was going to be a problem. "Sure, see you then. Thanks, Jenny. Just know I'm sorry this all happened."

"I am too. Just get better, all right? I miss my winger."

"I will. Bye." She ended the call, then looked at her messages. The boxes were nearly full; Jenny alone had left almost a hundred, and she went back through those quickly. The rest? Friend after friend had turned on her, called her names, wished she was dead or otherwise hated her. Facebook was no better; ten minutes in, she deleted her account. The vile things people posted made her sick. Did they think she CHOSE this?

What she had gone through over the last few months, she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. "Rabid Rea" seemed to be the insult of choice, with many saying she should be put down like a dog. Tossing her phone on the bed, she slid down to the floor, pulling her knees up as she cried for the loss of her life.

Nothing would ever be the same.

She heard soft footsteps in the hall, then her Mom knocked softly. "Treasure?"

"Mom..." She barely got that out, and when her Mom saw her she sat on the floor and pulled her into her lap. "Everyone hates me, Mom," she cried into her neck.

"I know, baby. This will pass, but it will take time." Nothing had been easy for any of them; their house had been egged, threatening phone calls had been routine and many of their own friends had pulled back. Even work had not been immune, and the gossip mill had been horrible. Letting out her breath, she kissed her forehead then ran her fingers through her short hair. "Jenny has been in your corner the whole time, even after... never mind."

"After what?"

Dawn paused, knowing she would find out eventually. "A week after that practice, a few people jumped her in the hallway. Her face was slammed into a locker and it broke her nose, and they punched her hard enough to break a rib." Rea was horrified, knowing she took a beating because she was loyal to her. "She missed most of the season."

"I don't know if I can face them, Mom. They hate me."

"I don't know if you will, baby. You were suspended pending a hearing with the school, we meet with them tomorrow to find out what is next." She lifted her daughter's chin, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Now, Grandma is almost here, and she doesn't want to see a crying mess. How about you take that shower and come out? The pizza will be here in twenty minutes."

"All right." She got to her feet, then held her hand out to help Mom up. "Pasquale's, right?"

"Of course, it's your favorite." She gave her daughter a hug. "I'm so happy you're home. We're trying not to overwhelm you, so if things get to be too much just come back here."

"I'm fine, Mom. The drugs are helping, I'm just sluggish. It's probably hospital food and lack of exercise, I mean, look at this!" She pinched her belly. "It's going to take a lot of running to work this off."

"Starting tomorrow," Dawn laughed. Rea went to her bathroom, and she walked back to the door, smiling a little.

It was going to be tough, but maybe things would work out.

The next morning, Rea got in the car with her parents for the short ride to the District Offices. They were escorted to a conference room, where her Principal, Assistant Principal, 9^th grade counselor, soccer coach, a lawyer and the school psychologist were waiting. Her father had told her to sit quietly and listen, so she did, even though the words cut her like knives.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Olson, and Treasure. The purpose of this hearing is to determine disciplinary actions related to the attack by Ms. Olson on a classmate. We have reviewed the reports on the incident from the coaches, other students, the police reports and your academic record. Mrs. Wells has also, with your parent's permission, reviewed your medical records and spoke to your doctor. She has provided her opinion, but due to privacy laws the rest of us are not allowed to review those records. Before we make a final decision, we would like to hear from you and your parents."

Mark looked at his daughter, his eyes encouraging her to speak. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for what happened. I still can't recall what it was, but I have worked hard with my doctors to control my anger, so this never happens again. What happened, me reacting like that... that isn't who I am. Nothing like that will happen again." She squeezed her father's hand.

"This is a sad situation all around," he said. "Treasure has gone through a lot to get better, and I'm worried about what will happen when she returns to school. There have been threats, vandalism and at least one attack on her friend. I want her to be able to return to school, but I'm concerned for her safety as well."

Dawn spoke up next. "She's suffered so much," she said as she wiped away a tear. "She's already lost a third of the school year, and a whole soccer season. Before this day, she was a straight-A student, popular, and a star athlete. Her treatment is working, and she deserves to return to school," she said.

"Is there anything else you would like us to consider before we make our decision?" There wasn't. "All right, if you could wait outside while we deliberate." The three got up and went out to the waiting area; Rea listened in, her mood falling with each sentence. They weren't going to let her return. She started to cry, leaning on her father as he tried to comfort her.

Twenty minutes later, they were called back in. "We have had to balance fairness and safety in this decision and keeping Rea and our other students safe has to be the main priority. The nature of this attack on a fellow student cannot be excused or ignored, and we will not do so. Treasure Olson is hereby expelled from school and has been banned from school grounds, activities and sports for no less than one year."

"Expelled? How will she get her education?" Mark was holding his daughter's hand, she already knew the answer so there was no point crying now.

"There are a few options. We do have a program here at the District offices for students who need non-traditional methods. She can receive guided instruction with special education staff. Alternately, she can use web-based school and work from home to complete her studies."

"That one," Treasure said. "I'll do the computer."

"Are you sure," Dawn asked her. "You'll be alone."

"I'd be alone even if they let me back in school, Mom. No one is going to look at me the same, ever. At least this way I can focus on the work." She looked at her coach. "Can I go out for the team next year?"