I step closer to the window and nudge the glass with my elbow. Her eyes sweep across the desk to me and surprise takes over her face. She stands, opens the door, and turns toward me.
“Oh sweetie, you shouldn’t be up,” she says softly. Her pink scrubs bringing a little light to this dreadful place.
“Where are my parents?” I ask, and her smile thins.
“You are at White Wing Psychiatric Center. We’re here to help you get better, and your parents are just fine,” she states. Walking behind me, she unzips the back of the jacket and begins to unclip and loosen it.
“How are you feeling? Do you feel sick to your stomach?” she continues to evaluate me.
“No,” I lie, I feel like I drank too much water too fast and I need to puke. I’m not sure if it’s from waking up here or the shot they gave me.
“Okay, well, that’s good. The doctor will probably see you tomorrow, and we’ll know about your limitations and privileges. So until then, you can join the others in the common room, or return to your room, okay?” She pulls the heavy white coat off of me and looks down at me with an annoying big grin. Her red lipstick smudged on her bottom teeth.
“Oh!” She raises a finger, her lips puckering into an O-shape, and darts into the office, grabs something off her desk and comes back to hand it to me.
I take it, it’s pamphlets about the place, their mission to help us get better with smiling kids on the front. Glancing around the place, I don’t see a cheerful child in sight.
Sighing, I turn around completely, not sure where to go or what to do. I’m tired, really tired. The episode I had this morning at school really took it out of me, and I feel as if I could sleep for days.
My eyes land on a semi-pretty girl at a table in the middle of the room. She’s doing a puzzle by herself. She’s in clothes similar to mine. Scrubs, like we’re in a hospital, her hair comes down the left side of her shoulder in a tight braid, and she has big round eyes. She suspiciously looks around the room and quickly gobbles up a puzzle piece. My eyes widen. She just ate that!
Scratch sitting next to the girl who eats things. Crossing my arms, I look at the kids watching the movie, they all look very different. One bald with stitches in his head, a girl with green hair, and I can’t stop looking at the girl with cuts all over her face and neck. Did she do that?
I don’t think I want to sit there either. I don’t belong here. Where is my dad? He knows people to get me out of here. Just before I turn to head back to my room, I see someone sitting at a round table at the back of the room by two windows. She has crazy blonde hair down her back, and she’s hunched over as if she’s working on something.
Curiosity getting the best of me, I slowly tread that way and glance over her shoulder a good distance away.
She has a three-inch pencil with a dull head and is drawing on a sketch pad. I can’t really see her face, but she has pink cheeks and freckles.
“You can sit, you know,” she says, and I stiffen. She glances over her shoulder and big eyes with a color I can’t determine look at me. Her nose is too small for her face, and her bottom lip sticks out farther than her top.
Scratching the top of my head, I mull over her offer, and my hand suddenly aches. Pulling it down to inspect it, I notice my knuckles are cracked with dry blood. From beating up Casen.
My eyes flick to hers. I don’t know what happened this morning, maybe I’m not safe. I belong in that straitjacket.
Turning around, I reject her offer and head back to my room where the temperature drops ten degrees and then I lie back on the hospital-looking bed. I close my eyes and listen to my beating heart. It’s slower than it was earlier, but I’m scared shitless regardless of how it drums within. I want my brother, and I want out of here.
Tomorrow, that doctor will see that this morning was just a mistake and I’m normal.
Just like everyone else.
“Romeo, it’s time to get up.” A man’s voice makes me wake up immediately. Snapping upright, I find a man with graying hair with a matching mustache. He has on a suit, not as nice as my father’s, it’s not fitted, and a white doctors coat.
“W-what?” I groan, my throat dry. Looking to the window, it still looks like the same gray sky and I don’t feel like I slept at all. Is it the same day?
He walks up to me with a sense of power on his shoulders and grabs me by the chin. My heart throbs in my chest and I shove the stranger away.
“Don’t touch me!” I shout, my stomach still feeling ill. Who is this guy and why does he think he has the right to just come in here and grab me like that?
He lowers his head, his fuzzy brows glaring at me.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, I just want to check your vitals.” His is voice deep and unsettling. His face is sharp, eyes unfriendly. He must be the doctor.
“Where is my dad? I want out of here,” I demand, pushing him away again. This is crazy, I don’t need to be in here.
He sighs loudly and leaves the room. That was too easy, where’d he go? Sliding my legs over the side of the bed, I
