"This is the valley where animals live. Stresses like wind to a man on a bridge."
Everyday someone dies. And everyday someone new comes.
They always look frightened; frightened, but hopeful. Like they actually have some kind of clue what's coming to them, and they think they'll actually leave. Pathetic.
Gamzee sits beside me; we're back in that room again. Funny how it's just "the room" and everyone knows what it is. We're the oldest ones here now.
Not in age, of course. Residency. We've been here barely three years and we're the oldest here. Says a lot about this place.
Terezi and Equius sit across from us. They haven't smiled since Nepeta left.
They haven't smiled in two years.
We speak, but it's never the same.
Gamzee is…haunted, by the memories. He tells me he's woken up crying before. He lashes out a lot now, too. He's gotten detained at least fifty times in the last month alone. He's hurt half the staff by now.
Terezi…she doesn't talk much anymore; only speaking when spoken to. Nurses have to force her from her room, now. She doesn't like being pushed. I remember her slamming her hands on the desk in the hall and yelling "I hate everyone. I hate EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU."
And…then there's Equius. He's always been quiet. He only ever smiled when Nepeta came into the room and greeted us. He used to time her. "Every day at 1:30pm her nurse would bring her into the rec room. Every day at 1:35pm she'd run up to me and hug me. Every day at 1:36pm she'd greet the rest of the group, asking if anyone was missing. Every…single…day…" I still see him look at the clock. Every time he gives the same pained smile that screams "I miss you." Other than that… He doesn't even make eye contact. Just comes in, sits in the same seat, and leaves two hours later without a word.
I remember when I used to be scared of him.
And me? Gamzee has told me I looked like I'm always thinking, constantly troubled. To be honest, I feel like it. This isn't the easiest thing to deal with, you know. My only two friends have shut down completely and my boyfriend is on the brink of insanity.
I can't even see straight half the time, let alone think. I'm losing my mind, I can feel it. I started throwing things last week. First little things like pens and balled up paper, and it gradually got bigger.
I hit my nurse with a chair the other day, and I can't count how many times I've flipped over a table or two before wheeling myself out of the room.
I've come to realize there's a reason we're all here, and it's not because we're trolls from another planet.
We're risks.