Electric Waves

The problem was that I didn’t use an extension cord, it’s still in the cupboard under the sink even
now. When I let go of the toaster it splashed through the soapy lavender scented bath water
hitting the bottom with a dull thunk, its cord lay on the bathroom floor where it fell when it ripped
out of the wall socket. No fatal shock coursing through my body, just me and a ruined expensive
toaster. I sat there until the soap bubbles had all popped and the water turned a frigid cold. The
pink tiled bathroom filled with my melancholy until it settled deep into the fibers of the towels and
carpet and coated my skin like oil. I picked up the stainless steel toaster and raised it above my
head, let out a disgruntled cry and threw it against the opposite wall almost hitting my mother in
the head.

Morning dew covered the flowers and grass making my ankles wet as I waked to the car. Sun
streamed through the willow oaks soaking the newborn birds with honey sweet light and
warming my chilled skin. How can such horrible practices happen on such a gratifying sunday? I
concentrated on that thought in the car and not the uncomfortable silence shared between my
mother and I. Suburban homes blurred past until they were replaced with cold concrete buildings
and herds of shoppers enjoying the weekend. We pulled up to a brick building painted a warm
shade of blue, I would of thought it nice if I didn’t know why we were there and if there weren’t
angry protesters outside of it. The group yelled about medieval acts and unjust torture as my
mother pushed us through the crowd to the front doors of the building. I looked back at the world
over my shoulder with terrified eyes.

A wave of cool air slapped my body and sent goosebumps across my skin when the doors
opened. Inside everything was differing shades of blue and white, occasionally dancing together
to create non offensive patterns. I drifted over to waiting chairs while my mother spoke to a nurse
behind the counter in a hushed voice. The rumble of an air conditioner, nurses shoes squeaking
on the tiled floor and distant beeps overlapped creating the only soundtrack to the anxious wait.
The metal and blue wool chair made a sound of protest as my mother sat herself down beside
me. She turned her young face towards mine and spoke in a soft tone but I wasn’t listening, I
was thinking about how stupid these people were.

Two nurses came shortly after and lead us down the halls until we were in the belly of the
building where the lights cast sickly yellow on everything and flickered every few seconds. The
cheerful blue was gone and replaced by dirty white. The floors, the walls, the wooden bench we
sat on, everything was white and unkept. There was only us and a thick white door to our side,
the nurses had gone and we were alone. The realization of what was going to happen filled up
my body up like an unforgiving sea. The urge to run and cry, kick or scream came over me but
paralyzing fear had taken control of every muscle and nerve.

When the door opened I could hear beeps and voices. A plump nurse stood before me with her
hand outstretched. Hand in hand we walked into a dimly lit room with a cot and that has
restraints, somewhere along the way my mother disappeared but I didn’t want her here for this
anyway. The fabric on the thin cot was itchy as I lay back on it with my arms and legs strapped
down. Someone was talking while the nurse wet my forehead and temples. She then placed
what felt like stickers over the wet spots and put a strap of leather in my mouth. I didn’t need to
look at the machines to know what was going to happen. There was a fleeting moment when I
heard a switch being flipped and a sound like rushing wind before my body convulsed and the
world slipped away from me.

The weather had heated up but a warm breeze blew my hair and tickled my thighs. For the first
time everything felt smoothed out and even, like I had been walking down a difficult gravel road
my whole life. The protesters moved out of the way and let my mother and I walk to our car. The
buildings went by like water colors until we were back on our suburban street. Pulling into our
driveway I realized for the first time my mother had been holding my hand the whole ride.