Just Another Day

Condensation covered the lone window of the small room. It was very simply done. Directly across from the wall with the window was the door. Large and made out of a sturdy metal, a small window at eye level, and a locked metal flap at knee level. For the most part, the walls were plain, painted in a bright white color that often blinded the eyes of the occupant of the room.

However, on the wall to the left of the door, the paint was partially covered by photos, notes, and sketches. The notes were from friends and family of the patient residing in the small room. The photos were of said people, and the home where she normally lived. Pictures herself before she came here, and pretty scenes placed to lighten her mood with festive flowers and inviting colors. The occupant herself made the sketches. These were senseless drawings; they were allowed to stay because they appeared to be harmless.

Inside of the four white walls there was merely a small metal table attached to the floor, a similarly made dresser holding a few items of clothes inside of its beaten drawers, with a brush on the top. A small bed with a metal frame, mattress, and sterile white sheets, a small white pillow, placed in the back right corner. A fragile looking woman lay sleeping on the bed, curled into herself as her brow was creased and she murmured. The sheet lay crumpled on the floor, half hid under the bed frame.

She blinked as she awoke, relaxing her face and straitening her body as she stretched. She wiped her eyes and glanced out the window, noting the rain lapping against the glass as she tried to stop her dream from slipping away. She sat on the bed, merely staring like that, for ten minutes or so until she heard the clicking of shoes coming down the corridor outside of her room.

Slowly getting off of her cot, she changed her clothes, and padded softly to the door. She stood there and waited, running her slender fingers through her hair to rid some tangles, as she heard the lock unclick. It opened and she walked outside of her room and began down the hall. A female nurse handed her a cup of pills, as a male guard slowed down his pace to walk in step with her. Lifting her head up to stare at the ceiling she tossed the cold pills in her open mouth and closed her eyes as they slipped down her throat, creating a trail of bitterness as they went.

The nurse was gone by the time she opened her eyes and she looked ahead of her, her mind losing its ability to think by itself informing her that the drugs were already taking their affect. Her step became a bit faster as sleep slowly faded from her body. Her loose clothes moved slightly in the breeze created by her body in motion. Her long blonde hair, down to her waist, dangled freely. It was messy and strands flew everywhere, but she could care less.

The guard stopped at a door knocked swiftly three times. The door opened and the guard, grabbing her arm, pushed her into the room. The other patients gave her no notice and she went to a chair in the middle of the room. She had become fascinated with watching the others.

After an hour she become bored and plopped to the floor and took a nap. She woke up and looked outside the great windows covering two thirds of the room. Trees from all directions greeted her and there was a small black bird watching her. Something about it made her brain give a jolt but just before some lost memory could spring to her mind the drugs regained control.

She hid her face in her hair and stared at it. He liked her hair. She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook her. She shouldn't think. She shouldn't think of him. He's not real.

Click. Click. Click. Click. A pause, and then Click. Click. Click.

A woman with perfect posture was standing above the plush chair. "The doctor is ready to see you now."

Wordlessly she got up and walked into a room connected to the larger one that she was in now. She stayed in there for several hours. Finally the door opened and an old man ushered her out of the room and smiled at her.

The guard from earlier was back and waited until she was in front of him until he started to walk. They went down a corridor with bad lighting that made the walls glow eerily. At the end there was a door and she moved to the side and stood perfectly still as he took out a key and unlocked the door, all the while watching her from the corner of his eyes. She was a feisty one, prone to attacking violently out of nowhere. Her recent good behavior did nothing to convince him he was safe, he still had scars from some of her last attacks.

The door slid open from the right to left, and they walked through it. She counted backwards from seven and heard it creak as it fully closed. They came upon a door, the only one occupied in the entire corridor. He opened it pushed her to it.

Once inside the door clicked shut and locked. She walked over to her bed, stared at her drawings for a few moments, then closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Just another day in the life of Beka Spires.

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