Vultures - John Mayer

Elsa Hamilton // HD [Example Audition]

Elizabeth "Elsa" Hamilton, 20
Dream Anxiety Disorder
Boston, Massachusetts
With a distinguished surname, Elsa causes a frenzy of hushed gossip, as the patients interact among Father Alexander's crazy little sister. She doesn't receive much special treatment however and being a frequent rebel, her screams echo through the hall at the sound of Sister Catherine's favorite cane. Elsa joined the asylum at age eighteen, under the pressure of Alex on Father Nick, to honorably save his sister from their abusive, alcoholic mother. Their father passed years ago and ever since a dark shadow has been cast upon the Hamiltons. Alex moved out to be a priest and left Elsa all alone, sneaking out everyday for a new escape. Elsa gained admittance and became a leading force of the sane, aware of the Estate's wrongs. She's quite an analyst and does not trust a soul, not even her own blood. She's always getting into trouble with her mouth and brilliant schemes that range from seduction to blackmail. She's desperate to escape, but could her mind be giving? Her diagnosis was based solely off of Alex's report indicating her occasional insomnia but lately Elsa's been having real night terrors and now there's no safety in her own mind. 
Cara Delevingne

Model Choices
1. Cara Delevingne
2. [model 2]
3. [model 3]

Story ~

“Line up for medications.”

The formidable Sister Catherine hovered near Sister Corinne, who made the announcement and meekly gave a roll call off her brown clipboard of names. Catherine dealt out paper cups, filled with a correct dosage of anti-psychotics prescribed by Dr. Kent. Mine was oval with a smooth white finish to help it go down easier, presumably if the patient put up a struggle. The sole record player blasted the annoying French song with its high beat. Sitting next to it were the extreme crazies, who were so subdued that they enjoyed the vibrations against their skin. I was curled up on a couch with the Bible sitting on my lap, opened to page one of Genesis. Page five had a cutout with a week’s worth of pills, a cigarette, a lighter, and an engraved pen. 

I closed to the book, gently putting it between a cushion, to ensure its safety. With no real personal possessions silly items like a worn lighter or my Daddy’s fountain pen became sacred. In the midst of the daily med confusion, Alex strolled into the room to keep an eye on everyone. We made eye contact and he smiled. I darted my eyes down.

Things weren’t exactly cordial between us, even after all this time. He had made the tension ever since his big trip to New York to be a servant of God, leaving me in the Boston apartment. Before that he was a partner in the messed up world. We both tried to keep our heads afloat and looked out for each other. He’d make me coffee after a Saturday night and I’d cover for him when Mom’s gin ran dry and she finally was lucid. I said he was at a football game so he could see his girlfriend. We both understood our role in the world, we knew we’d never really amount to much. Surviving was the goal, without the bruises from a belt or tears from Mom’s destructive rants. We were irrevocably damaged, but then he left.

He decided he was superior to the crumbling life he knew. He believed in God and Jesus. I was a lowly sinner who needed to repent. I was open-minded at first, testing the waters but eventually refused. He thought he could save my damned soul, but I don’t need anyone’s judgment. I could save myself.

 “Hamilton, Elizabeth.” Corinne searched the crowd of wandering people for me and I came up to the two nuns, hand extended. 

“Here.” Catherine handed me my cup and the pill. “Swallow and show.”

I held the pill in between my slender, pale fingers. I imagined what it would be like if I actually did swallow and show. I would imagine it’d be like a drug trip, envisioning a hazy world with spinning rooms. An ethereal feeling washing over myself and I’d think everything was perfect and beautiful. I’d sit in my cell’s crusty bed all day and draw butterflies over Exodus. I’d be so well behaved that I’d make it out to the manicured lawns that Sacred Cross sits on. I’ve only heard rumors of the ripe flowers with fully exposed petals. But alas, nothing that ideal can exist in this environment and only the doped up girls make it out. Hope for better days is impossible with cooperation. 

I slid the pill under my tongue and drank down the water. I held my jaw apart, Catherine’s hand gripping my chin. Her eyes scanned for any signs of white then eventually she became satisfied, though I could tell she didn’t trust me. 

That’s to be expected with my record. Every month I usually conjure up a plan. Last month I tried to befriend a new guard, sensing a weak link. He almost let me walk until Alex saw his inappropriate gazes and sentenced him to confession. He was back at work in a few weeks, without a sparkling gleam in his eyes. 

I walked back to my couch, sitting down carefully slipping my hand under the cushion. I felt the familiar parchment texture. In my lighter days, I tell the other patients that I’ve been given the original copy and sometimes the crazies laugh. 

A large hand clasped on my wrist, “Elsa, let me see your mouth.”

My back straightened against the cushions and my eyes narrowed to slits as I saw Alex in front of me with a suspicious look on his face. He was constantly paranoid, a new trait under his Catholic conversion.

“Catherine already checked me. Don’t worry so much, brother, you’ll wrinkle.” I retorted, trying to keep my mouth as closed as possible. I needed to spit and I could feel the disintegration of the meds begin. 

“Sister Catherine, and I’d prefer if you called me Father Alex, like the rest of them. Respect is a virtue.” Alex scolded.

“Right, sorry, Holy Alexander.” I rolled my eyes. “Leave me alone, alright? I haven’t been in the Hydro room for a week.” I reminded him. The Hydro room sounded like a paradise upon learning about it. Hot bathes, little supervision, and the cleanest place of the entire Estate. How wrong I was. Only the most severe patients are treated there. They placed a restraint over you, a mat with a space cut out for your head, neck, and shoulder. They leave you trapped in /hot/ water for hours and you’ll usually leave with red skin and blisters, to remind you of your sinful actions. I still have a sore behind my knee.

I opened my Bible to page one and Alex seemed satisfied. A look cast on him and he seemed as if he was going to reprimand me further. He usually does, believing he can not show special treatment to his baby sister. I tried to remain calm and felt he move closer, a taste of bitter meds souring my mouth. 

“Elsa, I love you.” I looked up to meet his blue eyes, filled with sincerity that reminded me of the Boston days. He was gentle, something I wasn’t used to seeing. I wished I could believe him and reciprocate his words. 

But it was his doing that brought me to this h.ell. I nodded, “I know.” He left and I spit my pill. 

x, E
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one comment

Wrote three years ago
So perffff and ethereal and detailed<33



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