The Rest Cure Monologue

As I spend the last night before our rent is up in town, I begin to wonder if my wife is ready to leave. Being a doctor had taken up too much time, it seems as if it may have been too much. Her wellness is like a scale, up one day then down the next, it might be ricksy to remove her from her strict rest. This house has given her air and scenery but, that may not have been enough to cure her. The Rest Cure may have betrayed her and Weir Mitchell may be her only hope. I have faith in her so we shall see.
I can’t help but notice the constent bring up of Jane’s obsession of the color yellow that Jennie always reports back to me. The sheer reaction of Jane’s horror when Jennie even reaches for the wallpaper is concerning. The only indications that her paranoia is present is the discoloration of her eyes and skin. Jane is alone a lot so it’s the more of the unknown that is the most threatening. I have gone about by ignoring it in hope that the removal of Jane
She seems happier and that makes me happy. My thoughts have concluded to the realization that she is indeed ready to leave.
I finish up with my final patient that I am seeing before we move out of the house. I have left Jennie with Jane overnight and I shall see how things are when I return.
It is morning and I approach the house and everything seems fine except the sheer look of panic on Jennie’s face. I asked her what was wrong and Jennie said that Jane had locked herself in her bedroom. I went up to see for myself and figured it was just the common fear of leaving that we all possessed. I approached the door and tried to turn the handle but it was locked.
“It is no use, young man, you can’t open it!”, said exclaimed.
I pounded harder and cried but knew there was no use so I went for an axe. When I returned I hear her gentle voice say “John dear! The key is down by the front steps, under a plantain