Hilda sat at a round table in the rec room with some of her companions. Claude, ever the mischief maker, had come up with his next thrilling endeavor. He was smiling to himself while arranging a flipped over coloring page in the middle of the table so everyone could see. Fiddling with a crayon, he smiled to each person gathered around him. As Hilda watched his thin braid swing back and forth she began to wonder how he managed to work up the energy to style his hair every morning. She slouched forward and rested her chin on her crossed arms, waiting for the show to begin.
"Anyone wanna make a bet?" Claude asked, excitement oozing out of him.
"A bet?" Leonie asked, brow furrowing.
"Yeah, a bet!" Claude winked at her. "I was just thinking the other day, that we have an assortment of rather loud people gathered here in the mental ward. And I'm not just talking about our dear Raphael. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has occasionally heard shouting through the walls."
The people around the table all nodded.
"So I started chatting with some of the nurses-"
"Surprise, surprise," grumbled Lorenz.
Claude, with all the grace of a giddy child, ignored him. "And it sounds like there is one particularly loud person in each ward. I've gotten their names."
He began to write three words down on the piece of paper in orange crayon. His handwriting was atrocious, but legible if you tried hard enough. Not that Hilda was willing to put in that effort.
"What are their names?" she prompted him.
"Dimitri in the Blue Lions Ward, Caspar in the Black Eagles Ward and Raphael, obviously," Claude replied.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't see how this relates to your bet, Claude," Lysithea remarked scathingly.
"Hear me out," Claude said, dramatically taking advantage of Lysithea's interjection. "What if we place bets on who is the loudest patient in Garreg Mach?"
"Seriously?" Leonie deadpanned.
Hilda didn't say so out loud, but shared Leonie's sentiment. This seemed like a bit of a waste of energy, not to mention the absurd amount of trouble they would all get into if the staff discovered that they were gambeling. Claude's poorly veiled attempt to flirt with disaster was almost sad.
"What would we even use to bet with?" Leonie asked.
Claude smiled, winked and whipped something out of his back pocket, tossing it on the table. It was a net bag filled with chocolate coins.
"Chocolate coins?" asked Ignatz curiously, peering at the bag through his glasses.
"Yep! Uncle Nader brought them for me last time he visited," Claude beamed.
Ah yes, Claude's Uncle Nader, who Hilda had a sneaking suspicion wasn't really his uncle. He always seemed to bring Claude the most interesting things when he came to visit. Most of which had to be taken away from Claude due to his reckless behavior. Hilda sometimes wondered if this Uncle Nader was unwittingly enabling Claude's adrenaline addiction. Although, chocolate coins and bets written in crayon were a far cry from attempting to balance on the slender backs of folding chairs, which Claude had attempted his first week here.
"I figured we could each take a coin, and bet it on who we think is the loudest. At the end of the week, the person we hear shouting the most, taking into account the doctor's opinions on the matter, will be the winner. The people who placed their bets on that person will split the coins as winnings," Claude delighted in explaining his plan with everyone.
"How are you gonna get the doctor's opinion?" Hilda asked, mildly curious.
"I think I could talk one of the Eisners into giving me the scoop." Claude smiled devilishly at Hilda.
Leonie scoffed, "Good luck with that."
"Claude, this is a terrible idea," Lorenz finally voiced his opinion. "We will get in so much trouble. And I don't think gambeling is exactly proper behavior in a hospital of all places."
"I think he knows that Lorenz," Hilda commented listlessly.
"Ah Lorenz, where's the fun in being proper all the time?" Claude sniped.
"It is hardly conducive to a healthy, therapeutic environment. Some of us already suffer from enough addiction as it is without adding this temptation," Lorenz further debated.
Lorenz's indignation was ignored when Lysithea spoke up. "I agree with Lorenz. Besides, this seems so childish, betting with candy."
"I will have you know, Lysithea," Claude said, folding his hands on the table in front of him and straightening his back, "That gambeling is a very adult pursuit. They don't even let children within ten feet of the gambeling machines."
And now he's got Lysithea hooked. Scheming dastard.
"Fine, give me a coin, I'll play," Lysithea grouched.
"Undignified," Lorenz grumbled.
Claude grinned, and after much struggling, ripped open the net bag to pass out the coins. Lorenz didn't even grace his coin with the honor of his gaze. Ingatz picked up the coin and started thumping over the seam around the edge. His eyes took on that pointed, over concentrated gaze he adopted when something wasn't quite right. The motions of his fingers became jerky and stiff, fingernails digging at the tiny seam in the foil.
"Are you ok?" Hilda asked, drawing attention to Ignatz.
"The seam of the foil isn't exactly in the middle of the edge all the way around," Ignatz muttered.
"Ignatz, remember what the doctors said," Leonie called in the kindest voice she could muster. "The foil accomplishes its intended purpose, it doesn't need to be perfect. Just let it be and sit with it."
Ignatz looked between Leonie and the offending coin nervously. He let out a strained sigh and placed the coin down on the table in front of him. "You're right Leonie… Thanks…." Ignatz wouldn't be able to restrain himself for long, but just the fact that he was able to stop his compulsion, if even for a moment, was fantastic. If Hilda had the energy, she might even be impressed.
"So," said Claude, drawing attention back to him. "Place your bets ladies and gentlemen. Who is the loudest patient in the Garreg Mach Mental Hospital?"
"Raphael. No question about it," Lysithea said, tossing her coin over his name on the paper.
"What do you know! We agree for once." Claude teased, placing his coin on top of hers.
Lysithea's nose crinkled in irritation.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Leonie challenged.
"Oh? A dissenting opinion. Do tell us who you think deserves your gold coin," Claude said.
"It's going to be Dimitri, hands down." Leonie tossed her coin down on Dimitri's name.
"What makes you think that?" Claude asked. "As far as I have noticed the Blue Lions Ward seems the most peaceful out of all of the wards."
"Hardly," Leonie scoffed. "You weren't here a month ago when there was a fight in the Blue Lions Ward."
Claude's eyes widened at the juicy gossip.
"The shouting was so loud you could practically hear the words they were saying through the walls. They were pulling security from our ward just to contain the patients. Both Dr. Eisners were involved."
"Both?" Claude mouthed, captivated by the story.
"I heard one or two patients had to be sedated." Leonie finished her story by crossing her arms and looking smug.
"I'm beginning to question my decision to bet on Raphael," Claude admitted, mouth twisting in consideration. After a beat he said, "Well Lorenz, who do you pick?"
"I'm not participating." Lorenz glowered.
Claude's attention immediately shifted. "And you Ignatz."
"Well… I suppose I would bet on Raphael, but that might just be because I've never heard his shouting muffled by the wall. I guess my perspective on the matter is a little skewed." Ignatz didn't sound confident. He began fidgeting with his coin again.
"No reason not to have faith in our good buddy Raph! Now that leaves… Hilda. Who are you betting on?" Claude turned his smiling eyes on Hilda's crumpled form.
She sighed, watching the coin shine as it turned between her fingers. "I don't know. Put me down for anyone." Hilda tossed the coin in the general direction of the paper, where it landed a little bit closer to Caspar than any other name. That was good enough, Hilda decided. It was better than having to choose.
Claude took everything in stride. "Alright. So that's one for Dimitri, one for Caspar and three for Rapheal." As he spoke he etched a tally below each name for each of their votes. Then he scooped the coins back into the bag and folded up the paper, tucking them away in various pieces of clothing.
They hadn't wrapped up a moment too soon, because at that moment a nurse walked into the rec room. It was the sweet nurse with curly blond hair Hilda was rather fond of. "There you all are. It's time for group."
All the others stood up from the table and stretched, making their way to the classroom. Hilda was content to lay across the table just a moment longer. It was a long walk between the rec room and the classroom.
"Hey Hilda," the nurse said gently, kneeling down next to her.
"Hey," Hilda said with a half hearted smile.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked just as gently.
"Tired."
The nurse nodded. It was the same answer Hilda gave every time she was asked that question, but the nurse made no comment on that. "Are those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?" she asked. There was no judgement in her voice, just quiet curiosity.
"Yeah…." Hilda admitted quietly, feeling ashamed regardless. They were the same clothes from the day before too, but she was really hoping no one had noticed.
"Do you think you might feel a little bit better if you put on some fresh clothes?" the nurse prodded gently.
Hilda grimaced. Fresh clothes might feel nice, but she knew what the nurse was implying. She was doing her best to not order Hilda around, and give Hilda the opportunity to take care of herself by her own volition. Hilda knew she was supposed to be telling herself these things, and not waiting for someone to either make her or do it for her.
"Yeah…." Hilda admitted again, still helplessly ashamed.
"How about you go get changed, and join us in group when you are ready," the nurse offered, smiling brightly at Hilda.
Hilda nodded, got up from the table and walked down the hall, away from the growing hubbub in the classroom. The journey was arduous. Walking to Hilda felt tremendously difficult. It was like her feet had to pull the entire planet around to move below her feet, instead of moving her small body across the planet.
Once in the room she shared with Leonie, Hilda took a look in her clothing drawer. Everything was neatly folded and organized in sections based on type of clothing. It was something she had done in a spark of inspiration after group a few days ago. That motivation had not stayed with her. As she stared down at the six pairs of neatly folded, identically white underwear, Hilda wilted.
They were beautifully laid out in the drawer, stacked one on top of the other. But which one should she take? It would really be a shame to mess up the stack, especially after it had taken so much energy to create. Should she take the one from the top? What if she messed up the one underneath when she removed the top one? Should she take one from the bottom and hope that if she does mess something up no one would be able to see the mess? Or should she attempt to pull one out of the middle. No, that would definitely be too difficult.
Hilda left the drawer open flopped down on her bed, exhausted. Her long, pink hair fanned out all around her and she didn't even bother to lift her feet onto the mattress. Maybe, if she took a short nap, she would have the energy to decide on this later. She wasn't giving up, she told herself, just postponing the decision.