one month later
…
I hate this fucking place.
My eyes scanned the room of medicated kids my age and younger. The walls were white but the white tiled floor was covered in a hand paintings of various shades. A wall of arm chairs and wide-open windows that never open.
I hate this fucking place.
"Vivianna." One of the aids called, I didn't acknowledge her. "You have a visitor."
I stayed in my chair and I didn't say anything. I turned my head away and wrapped my arms tighter around my legs.
"Vivianna do—"
"No." I replied, I couldn't process the tone of my voice and I didn't really care anyway.
"Charlie and Bella are here."
Charlie and Bella call me every day. I was mad at Charlie for signing me into a psychiatric center and I had been sent off to Seattle. This is fucking hell. There wasn't a day I didn't witness a meltdown or fights. Believe it or not but one of the boys managed to shank someone today at lunch. As sick as it was, kids had laughed and entertained it, I had to fight everyday not to end up like one of those kids. I didn't want to be here.
I didn't want to be anywhere, truthfully.
"They brought a friend with them. Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She walked away.
The pain from my arms was a daily reminder that I was alive. In some way it was relieving but at some times, I wish I had been buried instead. The day went on as usual. Some activities and groups throughout the rest of the hours until dinner. Dinner was the same, either there was a fight or there a dramatic argument, they served chocolate pudding for dessert.
I spent time in the dark room, I call it the dark room while they have some friendly name. I also spent my time in here alone in the dark and I would look out the window. These were the times I allowed myself to think about that boy from the party. My chest would hurt so much that it was impossible to breathe for a certain amounts of time when I thought about him. So I have disciplined myself not to think about him, until I could get into this room and think about him here. Sometimes if I stared hard enough or thought hard enough on him sometimes it felt like I would experience an out of body experience and I would see a wolf laying down in the tree line bordering the facility.
Like the wolf was waiting for me. I knew I was crazy to imagining that, fantasizing that wolf was waiting for me. I convinced myself that it was best that I was within these walls. I was crazy to fantasize about a wolf waiting for me in the tree line. But that was the only thing that has been keeping hope alive in my chest. Maybe there were mysteries in this world that I was meant to find. No matter the possibilities of what could lay ahead.
I think right now was the first time I was actually praying to return to Charlie's house. There was… just… There was something waiting for me there. That feeling grew stronger everyday and it was an unhealthy obsession but I couldn't help but just ponder over what could be waiting for me.
I listened to the quiet music playing, an older song, No Ordinary Love by Sade as I stared out the window with consistent rain slamming against it.
The thin material they call a bed was barely a cushion to the hard wood or hard plastic that made up the 'bed'. The blankets were like holey quilts even if the fabric was tightly knitted together. It was cold but even if I could bundle up, all my clothes were locked off and I had to deal.
That song from before. It was echoing around in my head and all I could see was that boys face. The song wouldn't stop. The thoughts about that boy wouldn't stop.
I dreamt about him, I dreamt about us, there isn't even an 'us', but here I was in this nuthouse facility dreaming about it. At first, I tried to convince myself it was a fantasy about the graduation party, a fantasized ending to that night, but it was dark and I remember the back yard of the Cullen's house. But it wasn't the Cullen's house, Uncle Charlie's backyard. It was dark and I could feel the pressure of eyes on me but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, ever moment within this dream dragged on like extracting sap from a tree.
But the scenery changed so much it was incompatible with my memory files, it was like a cycle between the both of us. One was upset and the other would leave or visa versa, over and over and over. Until I realized around lunch the next day…
We were dancing around each other. Testing the waters, testing each other. Dancing and dancing, and dancing around each other until we slowly started coming together, and slow dancing in the dark.