Project 17 by Laurie Faria Stolarz Page A
Authors: Laurie Faria Stolarz
Tags: Fiction, General, Horror, Juvenile Fiction, Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, Interpersonal relations, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Psychiatric hospitals, Performing Arts, Horror Tales, Motion pictures, Horror & Ghost Stories, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Haunted places, Mysteries; Espionage; & Detective Stories, Film, Motion pictures - Production and direction, Production and direction, Ghost Stories (Young Adult)
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in. No big deal."
"For your information," Mimi cuts in, "this is not a bathroom. They used it for hydrotherapy."
"Hydro-what-apy?" Chet asks.
"They made patients sit in the tub water for hours," she explains. "A canvas strapped over them so they couldn't get out. It was some warped idea of therapy."
"So what does that have to do with me?" Chet asks.
"Why don't you have a little respect?" Mimi says.
"I'm sorry, okay? I had to go, and the tub worked just fine--drain and all."
But Mimi is still flipping out, accusing him of trying to scare her way before she even headed down here. "I could hear you whispering my name," she says.
"What are you talking about? I didn't whisper anything."
"Don't play dumb," she snaps. "You were whispering my name. And I could hear the sound of water running."
"Maybe what you heard was the sound of me taking a leak."
"What's going on?" Greta asks, inserting herself into the action. She practically elbows her way past me so she can stand dead center, taking full advantage of the camera.
Liza and Tony are here, too--Liza practically glued to my side. Not that I mind.
122
"I'm not making this up," Mimi continues, rubbing her temples. "Someone was calling my name; someone even answered me. I said 'This isn't funny!' and someone answered, 'I'm not laughing.' It came through the walkie-talkie."
"Well, maybe that was one of us," I offer. "We could hear someone's voice coming through the speaker. Maybe you could hear us as well."
"Did one of you say that?" Mimi asks.
We all look at one another, but nobody seems to remember. I move even closet to Liza, sensing how freaked out she is. Her leg trembles against mine.
"I can't even remember what I said two seconds ago, never mind ten minutes," I say.
"Seriously," Chet says, turning to Mimi. "All joking aside; it wasn't me. I mean, aside from jumping out at you."
"Then who was it?" she asks.
"There's got to be some explanation," I say, giving Liza a reassuring squeeze, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. "It was probably just the talkie. You were probably either picking up on us, or maybe someone in the area. Those things probably have a killer radar."
"When they're actually working," Tony adds.
"Well, what about what happened to us?" Greta says, stating into the camera. "We were downstairs in the tunnel and the door closed and locked on us. We almost couldn't get back up here."
123
"This place is more than a hundred years old," I say. "What do you expect with heavy doors and rusted hinges?"
Chet goes to say something but then sees the writing above the tub. Someone's painted the words "I've been waiting for you" in bright red letters, making him pause. "This place is wacko."
"Exactly," Liza says. "Which is why we shouldn't be here."
124
LIZA
WHILE THE OTHERS sit around the circle of candles, taking a break, I sneak the journal again and read another entry, hoping that Mimi doesn't notice:
September 8, 1981
Last night I was punished. There's a woman here who murdered her husband. She got moved to my room, to the bed right next to mine.
And she scares me even more than Jessica.
I didn't want to sleep next to her, so I refused to go to bed. The next thing I know, four nurses came at me, ripped off my clothes, and threw me in one of the seclusion rooms in the back. I wouldn't stop kicking and screaming and punching the door, so they came back in, held me down, and injected me with something to make me sleep.
125
I hate this place. I hate the smell here-a mix of urine and bleach. And I hate most of the nurses. Some of them are so unbelievably cruel, especially to the older patients. They make them walk around naked-for ease, I think, so they don't have to keep changing them. And then they hose them down for cleaning.
A couple days ago, Vicky, this one crazy nurse, toed naked Mrs. Delaney to a chair with a bedsheet. Vicky kept her there pretty much all day, but Mrs. Delaney didn't complain too much since she'd been all drugged
"For your information," Mimi cuts in, "this is not a bathroom. They used it for hydrotherapy."
"Hydro-what-apy?" Chet asks.
"They made patients sit in the tub water for hours," she explains. "A canvas strapped over them so they couldn't get out. It was some warped idea of therapy."
"So what does that have to do with me?" Chet asks.
"Why don't you have a little respect?" Mimi says.
"I'm sorry, okay? I had to go, and the tub worked just fine--drain and all."
But Mimi is still flipping out, accusing him of trying to scare her way before she even headed down here. "I could hear you whispering my name," she says.
"What are you talking about? I didn't whisper anything."
"Don't play dumb," she snaps. "You were whispering my name. And I could hear the sound of water running."
"Maybe what you heard was the sound of me taking a leak."
"What's going on?" Greta asks, inserting herself into the action. She practically elbows her way past me so she can stand dead center, taking full advantage of the camera.
Liza and Tony are here, too--Liza practically glued to my side. Not that I mind.
122
"I'm not making this up," Mimi continues, rubbing her temples. "Someone was calling my name; someone even answered me. I said 'This isn't funny!' and someone answered, 'I'm not laughing.' It came through the walkie-talkie."
"Well, maybe that was one of us," I offer. "We could hear someone's voice coming through the speaker. Maybe you could hear us as well."
"Did one of you say that?" Mimi asks.
We all look at one another, but nobody seems to remember. I move even closet to Liza, sensing how freaked out she is. Her leg trembles against mine.
"I can't even remember what I said two seconds ago, never mind ten minutes," I say.
"Seriously," Chet says, turning to Mimi. "All joking aside; it wasn't me. I mean, aside from jumping out at you."
"Then who was it?" she asks.
"There's got to be some explanation," I say, giving Liza a reassuring squeeze, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. "It was probably just the talkie. You were probably either picking up on us, or maybe someone in the area. Those things probably have a killer radar."
"When they're actually working," Tony adds.
"Well, what about what happened to us?" Greta says, stating into the camera. "We were downstairs in the tunnel and the door closed and locked on us. We almost couldn't get back up here."
123
"This place is more than a hundred years old," I say. "What do you expect with heavy doors and rusted hinges?"
Chet goes to say something but then sees the writing above the tub. Someone's painted the words "I've been waiting for you" in bright red letters, making him pause. "This place is wacko."
"Exactly," Liza says. "Which is why we shouldn't be here."
124
LIZA
WHILE THE OTHERS sit around the circle of candles, taking a break, I sneak the journal again and read another entry, hoping that Mimi doesn't notice:
September 8, 1981
Last night I was punished. There's a woman here who murdered her husband. She got moved to my room, to the bed right next to mine.
And she scares me even more than Jessica.
I didn't want to sleep next to her, so I refused to go to bed. The next thing I know, four nurses came at me, ripped off my clothes, and threw me in one of the seclusion rooms in the back. I wouldn't stop kicking and screaming and punching the door, so they came back in, held me down, and injected me with something to make me sleep.
125
I hate this place. I hate the smell here-a mix of urine and bleach. And I hate most of the nurses. Some of them are so unbelievably cruel, especially to the older patients. They make them walk around naked-for ease, I think, so they don't have to keep changing them. And then they hose them down for cleaning.
A couple days ago, Vicky, this one crazy nurse, toed naked Mrs. Delaney to a chair with a bedsheet. Vicky kept her there pretty much all day, but Mrs. Delaney didn't complain too much since she'd been all drugged
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