Folie

The Final Night
1901

‘Please doctor...Please, Let nurse stay with me.
Or else something awful will happen to me.’

Nurse looked at doctor, slowly shook her head
Naughty little Laura she was better off in bed.

‘But my dear,’ said Dr Matterson,‘...no one here will harm your head.
Now what on earth makes you think so?
Can you explain what you’ve just said?’

‘I can’t,’ said nervous Laura,
I’m too afraid you see…
But tell nurse not to leave here.
Make her stay with me.’

To nurse he raised his eyebrows
To see what she might say.

‘She won’t tell me a thing,’ nurse said,
‘I’ve tried, though she won’t say.’

‘I’d tell you, but I can’t,’ Laura cried out again,
‘He might get to hear of it...And what will happen then?’

‘And who, might I ask is, "he?"’ Dr Matterson did quiz.

‘Doctor Morris,’ whispered Laura...that’s who "he" is.’

‘Doctor Morris?’ puzzled Matterson, for he couldn’t understand.
Why, Dr Morris was his senior, and a much respected man.

‘Yes,’ whispered Laura, as if from a far off land.
Looking at the floor, and scratching at her hand.

She glanced quite fearfully, at the room about her head.
The heavily barred window, and narrow spotless bed.

‘She’s a little tired tonight,’ kindly whispered nurse,
‘The excitement of tomorrow, has done nothing but made her worse.’

‘Your mother will come tomorrow,’ she comforted the girl,
‘You mustn’t over excite yourself, if you want to see the world.’

Frowning little Laura, She sat down upon her bed.
Keep her here for longer, is that what nurse had meant?
Keep her here for longer? Despite three years she’d spent?

‘Yes, Laura dear, Your mother will come tomorrow. But if she sees a tired eyed girl, It will fill her full of sorrow.

Now don’t think it anymore, because you know what nurse says,
'You won’t be going anywhere, If you should misbehave.'

‘Just a minute nurse,’ doctor didn’t think it fair.
He believed in humoring patients.
For he knew how ill some were.

Doctor and nurse together, They walked across the floor,
Through the door with no window, out into corridor.

To the spy hole Laura ran, but nothing could she see,

Only quiet whispers, Oh what are they saying about me?

That she was bad? That she was mad?
‘Isn’t she a state, It really is quiet sad.’

But tonight Dr Morris would come, creeping to her door. Of this she was quiet certain.
Of this she was quiet sure.

Then she ran back quickly for the safety of her bed. Sat upon her pillow and pulled her knees up to her head. Precious little comfort, from her fast growing dread.

Back and forth she rocked, to an insane melody. She could hear a woman laughing; cruel insanity.

Back and forth she rocked; the wish that she were free.
The laughing grew louder, No humanity.

The door it suddenly opened. The doctor he then said, ‘Sounds like number 9 again, She can’t rest her poorly head.'

I suppose I’ll have to leave now, nurse,
I’ll take her some more pills.’

The common course of action, for the patient who was ill.

So Dr Matterson he quickly fled, while the nurse crossed to the bed, ‘Get undressed she ordered Laura, It’s time to rest your head.’

‘Nurse? If I tell you, Will you promise to stay? Please, stay with me here, never go away.’

‘Now that’s quiet enough, young lady, I’m tired of your verse. The doctors might think you’re ready, but tonight you seem much worse. Now if I hear another peep from you, before I walk out that door, I’ll go tell all three doctors, and they’ll lengthen your stay for sure.’

Little Laura she got ready. Nothing more did she say. No more nights in this hell hole. No more nights locked away.

Perhaps Dr Morris, Wouldn’t come here at all. Perhaps Dr Morris, just tonight, wouldn’t call.

‘Well, goodnight Laura,’ said nurse, as she switched off the light,
Go to sleep now my dear, not a murmur more tonight.'

The door closed with a bang. Frightened Laura she lay still, 'I will go to sleep, I must...Yes I will...'

For hours upon hours, she seemed there to lie.
Praying for sweet sleep, to come take her away.

She near jumped out her skin, at the noise by the door. A slice of white light, spread out across the floor.

Doctor Morris she cried, yes, she knew it was him.
It was obvious now; they’d believed not one thing.

Laura shivered at the thought. Of his blazing, blue eyes. She was sure to lose speech, her body, paralyze.

There was Doctor Morris, His dark bulk it filled white space,

‘Doctor Morris?’ whispered Laura, toward the moonlit face.

‘Be quiet you fool,’ he ordered, wheels turning in his mind. Then he leant against the door, to shut it tight behind.

‘I trust you’ve told no one our secret,’ quiet placidly said he, before striding from the door and sitting on the bed.

‘No I haven’t,’ muttered Laura, as she shook her frightened head.

She regretted that she had, and she wished that she were dead.

He took both her hands, from her sides where they lay, ‘Look at me now...You will do as I say.’

He spoke, oh so calmly, in his modulated way.
Scared Laura, she dreaded, How long he might stay.

‘You can not feel pain...There is no such thing. Repeat these words slowly now, as my eyes look within...’

She repeated the words, which he went on to say...Very soon spellbound Laura, Was drifting away.

Dr Morris, he smiled, when her face it went blank. He loved his experiments, His skill, he did rank.

He pulled out his scalpel, touched her arm with cold steel. Not the slightest of movements, Did Laura’s body reveal.

‘Laura, can you hear me?' But there came no response. Moving blade to back of hand, he lightly cut her once.

He watched a thin line of scarlet; appear upon her milky skin. Watched her sleeping body, A joy he felt within, ‘No such thing as pain,’ he chuckled with merry hell. The start of his experiment was going very well.

Laura’s hand started moving, a smile upon her face. He watched to see things happen, Wild interest taking place.

Her hand grabbed the scalpel, with an urgency non stop. His scientist fascination had him rooted to the spot.

‘Laura make a cut, Upon your little thumb. Do you hear me clearly? No pain now you are numb.’

Dreamy Laura she sat up, and slipped out from her bed. Walked toward the window bars, and stopped there dead.

Dr Morris was excited; he couldn’t wait to see. If she suffered no pain, when she cut the thumb, then he had found the key.

Dreamy Laura raised the knife, which glinted neath the moon. She put it to her throat and pulled it much too soon.

‘Stop,’ cried Doctor Morris, But his plea came much too late.
Now he stared in ugly horror, at two bloody mouths which gaped.

With as gurgle and a sigh, Laura sank toward the floor. Blood it seemed was everywhere, on his hands and on the walls.

He had to get away...No longer should he stay.
Sneak back toward his study, to wash the red away.

He better take his scalpel, And find a kitchen knife. The common explanation: 'Poorly Laura took her life.'

He made toward the door, slipping on the floor. Sliding on the floor, he flew into the door.

The key he quick remembered, it was on the other side...No way out for him. But he would have to try.

He had to keep his head...He had to keep his head...Heading for the window, to try the bars instead...

No way out for him, till morning he must wait...
Sitting on the bed, must keep thinking straight...

Not far away outside, the clock struck three. He had to escape, before any nurse should see.

Did Laura just move...? Dear God, he could’ve sworn, As he gazed upon the corpse, Which few folk would come to mourn.

Must keep sane...Must keep sane...Laura died easily, she couldn’t feel pain.

Could he hear her talking? Or was that his own voice? 'Talking to myself, now. For I haven’t any choice.'

‘And what’s wrong with my voice? What’s wrong with my voice? Pain is just imagination. To better it’s your choice.’

‘There is no pain.. It’s just a silly game,’ he screamed twice as loud. So Just come and let me out...I’m sure I’ve proved it now,’

With all his mighty force, he battered at the door. Pummeled it like a boxer, till hands bled, and knuckles tore.

Voices at last, he could hear them coming fast,
'Just bloody let me out,’ he shouted with a rasp.

Frightened whispers they came, led by a man with urgent tone.

‘That must be good old Matterson,’ but of course, he should have known.

‘There is no pain Matterson,’ he screamed out this time, ‘So you can let me out now. Everything is fine.’

He stood back from the door, as he heard the big key turn,

Just wait till Matterson opens it, with junior envy, he will burn...

Framed in the door, Stood a small group of men. Behind them frightened nurses, Whispering again.

‘Dear God Morris,’ Matterson choked, His face full of horror. If only he’d believed poor Laura. But no, he didn’t bother...

‘Well, I’ve proved it now, look Matterson,’
Morris continued to proudly shout,

‘I own the glory of the battle...Pain is strictly, out....’