My vision: DOWNSTAIRS there is a party - music and laughter rings out; perhaps it is Christmas; perhaps it's our heroine's Guardian's birthday; perhaps it is just for the hell of it. UPSTAIRS the only sound is the rhythmic swisssshhh crrrack of the cane - five - six - seven - eight - evenly spaced, timed to mechanical precision by synchronisation to a swinging metronome, one stroke for every four clicks, applied plum on that fourth click with each click one second apart. There is of course a sobbing mewing and sharp intake of breath interspersed with a softly-spoken counting of each stroke, the count to be given on the second tick of the metronome after each stroke. There are floods of tears even on the mere setting of the metronome swinging nowadays, even in the ABSENCE of the cane.
Nurse Hilda does many things to the beat of the metronome - or rather she requires her charge to do many things, perform many actions, to the insistent never-varying beat of the metronome; she has turned that simple measuring device of musical tempo into a punishment in its own right; she has been known to leave it running all night, on the side by the girl's bed; the irony tickles her pink; you see the girl was all set to become a music student; she'd earned a scholarship; she'd studied hard; she'd LIVED by the beat of that metronome; and now she DOES live by the beat of that metronome; she even has the girl chew her food to its rhythm.
Nurse Hilda - clever woman that she is - has even developed her own modification of the timing device, a truly diabolical modification, although to appreciate HOW diabolical - unless gifted with the sheer imagination of the good nurse - one would have to experience it in conjunction with the straitjacket for a few days and nights; it simply rings a bell, a simple 'ding', every certain number of clicks, the number of which she can set at will; THAT'S how you produce docile acceptance of the cane, strap or even over-the-knee hand spanking (Nurse Hilda always uses a leather glove) - you create an even worse experience, something your subject can be encouraged to develop quite literally a PHOBIC dread of...
So there is the rhythmic clicking, there is the muted cries of the girl (she knows not to cry out loud or beg for cessation for fear of an increased number of strokes), there is the girl's counting of the strokes - although that will cease at twelve this particular day , since that is the number Nurse Hilda has prescribed, to be replaced by lavish heart-felt thanks for having been corrected in this manner - and of course there is the creaking of the leather straps securing the straitjacket. And there is something else too...
Bang on the eleventh stroke - so near, but so far - a little bell has sounded, a tinkling little bell - and the girl's weeping redoubles; she has just earned another six strokes. She has failed to keep absolutely still, and her wriggling and jerking has been given away by a tell-tale bell, actually six tell-tale bells. She has six little silver jingle bells sewn around the reinforced neck and collar of her tough PVC straitjacket; there is a similar arrangement around the neck of the pyjamas that she usually wears, and the cuffs at her wrists and around the bottom of each leg (outdoor clothes are never worn when you're a mental patient - as Nurse Hilda often tells her) - it is an arrangement that make for a wonderful enhancement to deportment training; and all manner of other forms of discipline; and deportment training IS important, even FOR a mental patient.
And that latter point is her great fear of course - that Nurse Hilda will one day succeed in convincing her guardian to allow her to have her 'put away' in that secure psychiatric care home she says she knows of, where no questions would be asked and where she - Nurse Hilda - could, as she likes to say "REALLY get to grips with the girl". Not that she has actually SEEN her guardian for a VERY long time; the woman might not even still live in the same house any more for all she knows; Nurse Hilda is very jealous of being in TOTAL control of her care; Nurse Hilda is adamant her face should be the only one her charge sees and her voice the only voice the girl hears; obedience is everything; and dependence breeds obedience; and Nurse Hilda demands TOTAL obedience. Her guardian knows what is going on though; there are cameras. And her Guardian DOES enjoy watching proceedings; and that is something else Nurse Hilda is always fond of reiterating...
2 comments:
Lo! he is risen from the dead!
I like the metronome. Very simple. Very sadistic, and very uncompromising. It's the old Garth that we know and love.
So use this in a piece of fiction or something.
And welcome back. I've kinda missed you.
Hi there - glad to see you back too! I believe you emailed me some time ago but I sort of put replying to you on my mental 'to do' pile and then got side tracted and so it got put off and eventualy dissapeared off my emails for some reason and got mislaid. Yes the metronome thing is definitly making an appearence in my fictional writing - a wonderful and quite subtle torment if applied in the right way
Post a Comment