Once we were inside, the paramedics wheeled me through a hallway that was practically never ending. Maybe it was my nerves, but everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I was feeling regret about this decision. Did I really need the help? The building was so bland, even more depressing than my bedroom at home. The hallways were filled with giant metal doors and unattractive florescent lights. We finally made it to an office, where I was freed from the grips of what I learned to call The Dying People Bed. They stayed with me until the doctor arrived and greeted me. He took me to an unsettling, antique desk where I had to fill out my paperwork. It was a "Sign here. Sign here and here" type situation. To make it short and sweet, I was pink-slipped, which meant they believed I was two unstable to make my own medical decisions, and I need to sign over my rights. It's easier said than done, though. I hesitated, I felt that if I signed these papers, I'd never get out.
"Are you going to sign?" He said, raising an eyebrow. I hadn't realized how long I spent staring at the chipping paint on the walls.
"I expected this place to look more up to date." I gazed at him, waiting patiently for a reaction to analyze. All I received was a smirk.
"This isn't a hotel, Violet."
I was instantly overwhelmed with the feeling of embarrassment. I shifted my focus to the paperwork. I quickly signed. I stood up and he motioned with his hands for me to follow him. We walked down another long hallway, is had a depressing old flower border that was clearing deteriorating. I have watched many scary movies, and this crumbling mental hospital would fit perfectly. We arrived at two big metal doors with little windows. Are the really going to lock me up in here? He swiped a card and the doors flew open. Immediately, I could see lots of patients. Some in hospital gowns and some in their normal clothes, but each person was wearing a hospital bracelet just like me. Most of the people seemed normal. They were painting, or playing cards and laughing. Some seemed a little more crazy, like an old man who was spinning in circles, ranting about his blood pressure. It appeared that he hadn't bathed in days. Shouldn't the nurses be helping him? We turned down the aisle of bedrooms, and I heard screaming in the distance. "I want my fucking fur coat, Linda!" a girl screech, following a nurse out of her room. The nurse yelled back that she's at the hospital, not the mall. The patience waved her hands around, as if to say: "Is she serious?" and stormed right back into the bedroom. What were the chances that I was going to share a room with her? As soon as I entered the room, I witnessed her throw herself down on the bed. I prayed that the doctor would protect me from this crazy girl, instead, he ran to safety and left me there to unpack.
"Hey," I paused, intimidated. "I'm Violet."
"Well, hello Violet. I'm 96 pounds." She was grinning as if she didn't just have a meltdown.
"Okay, 96 pounds, do you have a name?"
"Of course, smart ass. My name is Jemma Rowland." She walked over to me and leaned in to breathe in my clothes.
I backed away quickly. "Dude, what are you trying to do to me?"
"You smell like cigarettes. Did you bring some?"
"Yeah, they're in my bag. They wouldn't let me keep my lighter, though."
"Obviously, you could hurt yourself with that thing!" She giggled. "They have a court yard for us to smoke in. The workers have the lighters. They'll take us outside. Want to go?" She held out her hand. I instinctively grabbed it, odd, considering she's clearly a psycho. Jemma didn't give me anytime to change. I had to make my first appearance in a hospital gown and blue sweat pants. She gave me a quick tour on the way out. The front hallway where the nurse desk is, the dining room, and the tv room. Attached to the tv room, was the courtyard. I was so excited to get the fresh air.
I power walked to the door and felt the rush of fresh air rush into my lungs, much better than hospital air. A nurse came and lit our cigarettes for us. "Thanks, Linda." Jemma said sweetly. Linda rolled her eyes and walked away. "Why are you here?" She pushed. Wasn't that an inappropriate question?
"A lot of reasons." I sat on the bench, bouncing my legs. "Would you like a list?" She ignored my sarcasm. because she didn't get the answer she wanted.
"Well, I'm here because they say I have an eating problem. I'm just trying to fit in with my mother... Well, my adoptive mother. My parents are very wealthy and let me bring my fur coat here and now they won't give me it. They can't just hold onto something that expensive, right? Like that's totally unnecessary and it's not their property." She continued to talk about her life, I was sure it was never going to end. "And if I don't get out of here my roots are gonna grow in. Having hair this blonde is very expensive. Last time, they kept me here for 4 weeks. It's ridiculous." She continued to blabber her whole life story until our cigarettes where gone. "If I'm going to introduce you to everybody, you should probably get changed into nicer clothes." Jem suggested.
I emptied out my bag on my bed and started putting everything in their proper locations. More paper thin pillows, awesome. The room was coated in light green, chipping paint and the same creepy floral borders that were wasting away with age. The only nice thing about my room was the desk, and even that looked depressing too. I threw on a band t-shirt and sweats. I was too overwhelmed to look nice.
I made my way to the tv room, where I saw Jem talking to a boy in a classic Invader Zim shirt. She motioned for me to come say hi. I came to the conclusion that this room appeared to be the happiest in the building. There was cable, games, and art supplies. It seemed to be the main hangout, even more popular than the courtyard.
"This is the new girl!" Why did Jemma always sound so excited?
"Hi, I'm Everett Villacorta." He said, eyes wide and fists clenched. Is this guy okay?
"Violet Varella." I said, shaking his hand. "I love your shirt. Invader Zim was my favorite show when I was little." Jemma grabbed my attention, she was shaking her and violently and mouthing the word no, over and over.
"You know aliens are real, right?" He stared into my soul, waiting for an agreement.
"Yeah, totally." I tried to comfort him. "There's no way we are the only living things in the universe. That sounds so unlikely and sad."
"Not only do we share the universe with them," He attempted to build suspense. "we share this planet." Within seconds, his attention shifted. He tensed up at the sight of another patient came sprinting towards us. I was positive she was going to attack.
She shifted all her attention to me. "Who are you? Why are you talking to Everett!" She continued to yell. Her body was shaking with anger and her eyes beamed into my soul. "What are your plans here? Do you think you're clever?" She spoke to me as if I had offended her whole family. "I don't think you belong here!"
"Oh no, go ahead and scream directly into my ear," I stated calmly. "it doesn't make me want to murder you or anything." Jemma violently smacked her palm to her forehead. I didn't care, I was overflowing with rage. I get thrown in here and I'm suppose to deal with this? I thought I was here to recover. "You're obviously insane. I don't need to deal with you. "
Everett stood up from his chair. "Daniel!" He yelled, for the nurse who ran over and claimed Marissa.
"She threatened to kill me!" She pointed her finger uncomfortably close to my face. I got the impression that she actually believed I was dangerous. I think she's the dangerous one. So unstable.
"Be careful, Miss Paranoia," I grinned from ear to ear. "I feast on fingers." I smacked her hand out of my face. She shrieked and bounced into the nurse's arms.
"Is this really a time for your terrible sarcasm, Violet." Jemma stood with her arms crossed and rolled her eyes.
"Ms. Varella!" The nurse raised his voice slightly. "Have you comprehended that you are in fact, in a mental hospital? You can't just run around scaring the other patients, who are clearly sicker than you! You've only been here for a couple hours and I'm already giving you a warning. Act this way again, a report will be filed, and you will most likely be sent to a less pretty, more violent hospital." He was holding Marissa in his arms. "Are we clear?"
His words sank deep into my bones. Could it get worst than this? Without a doubt, I nodded my head yes. I felt so ashamed of myself. I haven't even settled in yet and I'm already making patients up their medication doses. He carried Marissa out of the room and took her into the nurses office. I stood in the middle of the television room awkwardly. Before I arrived, it seemed to be the small piece of happiness that these people could have. It was their favorite place is in this crumbling building. Now they all just sit in silence and stare at me. They look disgusted. There's only two people who don't seem to care. Jemma, because she doesn't seem to have any emotion and an older man wearing a cowboy hat and hospital gown. He was content drawing pictures of horses.
I found one more boy who didn't seem effected. Thankfully, he had missed the whole episode and was just wondering into the room. I was mesmerized by his bone structure. "I thought it was tension cutting through the air, it's actually the boy's jawline." I whispered. Jem giggled and Everett conserved his lost, big eyes.
He walked up to us, and instead of introducing himself, he stood silently, refusing to let his eyes focus on a single subject. I couldn't help myself, I had to stare, he was far too beautiful to not look at. He had striking blue eyes. They actually made me happy in some strange way. I'm sure he put no effort into styling is dark brown hair, but it swept to the side so gracefully. On his wrist was a black leather bracelet that clung to a gold coin. To top things off, sticking out of his sweat pants pocket was a plastic bottle. There's no way a boy this attractive can be crazy, right?
"Violet, are you going to introduce yourself, or just continue to undress him with your eyes." Leave it to Jemma. I'm not sure what moment has been the most embarrassing today. I wanted to glare at her, but I'm sure it'd just create more tension.
"Hey, I'm Violet Varella." I said. This was the first time in years that I felt the need to impress a boy. I shook his hand, he was shaky and sweaty. I got a better look at his bracelet, the gold coin was imprinted with a picture of Charmander, from Pokemon.
"I'm September Summers." He said quietly, staring at the ground.
"Is that why you're in here, because your parents named you September Summers?" I was joking, I swear. He burst into laughter, but not genuine laughter. It was probably the fakest laugh I had ever heard and people fake laugh at my jokes all the time. He was almost bellowing.
"He does this when he gets nervous," Everett explained. "September, she never stops making horrible jokes. It's okay." He calmed down.
"I'm sorry." I said. "I've been a social mess today."
"I'm a social mess every day." He replied, still looking down.
"Can I ask what's in that bottle?" I smiled, gentle. I'm trying to learn how to be comforting.
"Oh. Well." He stuttered. "It's, um, soy sauce." He looked up for acceptance. My mind was filled with wonder.
"For what?" I tilted my head, looking like a lost puppy.
"Rice, I guess. If they'll ever serve it. I've been waiting." He shook the bottle in front of my face.
"Is rice your favorite food?" I pushed to spark up a common conversation.
"No," He shoved the bottle back into his pocket. "Rice is alright. I really only like the soy sauce part." He started chewing on his nails.
I could see that I'd made him uncomfortable. Another reason for me to feel guilty, today. I dug deep into my soul to find the most welcoming smile. "That is awesome! Thats such a unique quirk!"
"You think so?" I could see him exhale softly, and he finally met eye contact with me. "Thanks, I needed that today."
Later, everybody went through their day, but I didn't. They doctor gave me some anxiety medication and I hid in my room. I didn't get up for my meals. I didn't want to socialize. All I wanted was to sleep. I spent a lot of time in bed thinking about all the people I have met. They're all so different. I'm not used to being around other outcasts, maybe it'll be a good thing.
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