Existence 01 - Existence

the middle of the room with a small, round, white table holding a shell-covered lamp. One single oval mirror hung on the wall over a dresser with three drawers. A very small closet, only large enough to hang up fifteen items and hold three pairs of shoes, was on the opposite wall. I was only allowed one hour in my room during the day. I could use it all at one time or spread it out throughout the day. It was their way of keeping patients surrounded by other people. Seclusion bred depression was their rule of thumb around here.
    I glanced over at the small alarm clock they’d left on the round table. I had used up ten of my minutes in my room. I needed to go walk around and be seen so I would have time left to come back later. I walked into the hallway and closed my door behind me. The small key they’d given me was in my pocket and I locked my door. Apparently, there was cause to worry about theft with some of the patients. You weren’t allowed to bring anything of value with you but those suffering from personality disorders would take anything and I needed my clothing. I’d only been allotted a small amount and I needed what I had.
    A door opened up down the hallway and a girl with bushy, brown hair and large round glasses stared at me, and then quickly slammed her door shut. I heard the lock click behind her. She was easily startled and frightened. She must be someone truly suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD as they referred to it here. I stared at the other closed doors wondering if everyone on this hall had the same disorder. If so it was going to be loud at night with the screaming caused by nightmares.
    I walked down the stairs to the main living area, or what they referred to as the Great Room. It was where the televisions played sitcoms and board games were set up on tables. There were no computers or internet available for patients. A nurse smiled at me brightly as she walked by with a basket full of snack foods.
    “We’ll be eating our afternoon snack soon. Hang around in here and you can get something to eat and meet some of the other patients. We have several your age.” Meeting teenagers with psychiatric disorders wasn’t really appealing to me. But I didn’t say anything. Instead, I walked to the double glass doors leading out onto the front deck.
    “You won’t be able to open them. They lock them. You know, for us crazies who may take a wild notion to see if we can fly. Although, I figure the sand isn’t going to kill us when we hit.” I turned around to see a young girl with bleached blond hair that I guessed was probably shoulder length. She had it pulled up in piggy tales on top of her head. She wore bright red lipstick, which stood out against her pale skin.
    “Thanks.”
    She shrugged. “No problem. If you want to go outside and enjoy the beach you can get a nurse to go with you. They like having an excuse to go outside.” I remembered the lady outside earlier feeding the birds. She’d been alone.
    I didn’t really want to know who she was so I again nodded and said, “Thanks.” She tilted her thin face from side to side and acted as if she was examining something rather dramatically.
    “You aren’t a mental, are you?” I hadn’t expected this strange girl to make such an accurate observation. After all, the doctors all believed I needed help. I shrugged, unsure how to respond.
    “Well, they seem to think I am.”
    She raised the dark eyebrows she’d left out of the bleaching. “They can be wrong. They have been before.” I wondered if she was referring to herself. I glanced over at the nurse who sat behind a desk working on a laptop. She didn’t seem to react to the accusation that they had people in here who didn’t belong. “Karen knows it’s true. She just won’t admit it. Will you Nurse Karen?” The blond was grinning at the nurse, who glanced up and rolled her eyes affectionately and went back to typing. “She knows it but she’s too busy on Twitter to admit it.”
    The nurse reached over and patted the stack of papers she had beside her before glancing back up at the blond again. “I’m plugging in meds and test results.”
    “Blah, blah, blah. Don’t let her fool you, she’s a Twitter whore. On it all the fucking time.”
    The nurse shot her warning glance. “Language please. You’ll lose ten more minutes from your room time if you aren’t careful.”
    The blond shrugged and stared back at me. “Like I said, they aren’t