You wouldn't think about looking for an eighteen year-old young adult on the rooftop of a hospital. However, Harrison Oleman imagined himself there everyday, and tried his best to make the elevator trip up to it whenever the chance was presented to him. He liked to sit on the edge and dangle his feet into the empty space that occupied the air around the towering hospital.
Aside from a helicopter platform and the before-mentioned elevator, there wasn't much to say about the rooftop. For some reason, the paranoid had found a liking towards it.
The view he earned was a spectacular shot of the city skyline, and it looked even better in the night with the lights piercing through the darkness. Harrison's normal paranoid nature was put at ease, but as soon as he stepped off of this place, it was back to that undesirable child again.
In his left hand he clutched a phone, in the other it was just a greeen string with white stripes that he had removed from his wrist. He stared at it intently, knowing full well how much of a story this little object held for him. With a deep breath, exhale, and a saddened sigh, Harrison put the string back on his wrist and tried to refocus on the city.
His phone vibrated, startling the young adult for a moment, but he quickly recovered and took a glance at the screen. His father was asking for him to return back downstairs to the level where he worked. It didn't seem helpful; just a lonely desk jop only a few floors below Harrison's current position.
He simply stood up and walked back to the elevator, not one glance behind him to witness the wonderful nighttime again as though it didn't exist anymore. As soon as his foot touched the interior of the machine, his mind started to go haywire as it usuallly did.
"This thing is going to fall on me" he muttered, his body shaking uncontrolably. "This is finally the day I die. In a fucking elevator". After shivering a few times, he brought a sweaty hand up to slam the correct buttons. You would think he had just launched a nuclear missile.
There was more than one elevator in the building, and out of all of them, this one made the most unwanted noise, and many more of them if you were a paranoid yourself. The initial jolt of the ride, the squeek of the cables slowly picking up momentum, put Harrison at unease till the point where he started pounding the walls of the elevator trying to break out.
It felt as though he had been on the top of the world, finally finding a place where he could get rid of this sick paranoia, just to come back down to the bottom of it where people like him belonged.
When the doors finally opened, Harrison leaped out of it, frightened as though the elevator actually almost fell. The staff didn't shoot weird looks anymore at his appearance; they knew who he was by now. Just a strange kid that happened to come in with his father every day.
Even if he vaguely liked being able to be with his father, all of the doctors and other staff rushing around were a constant bother to the paranoid, giving him a scary game of who was going to try and kill him first. One particular doctor rushed by with a huge part of his neck bit right out from him. Everything that had been previously hidden by soft skin revealed what looked to be his throat. Blood was gushing all over the man from the ghastly wound.
Harrison couldn't help it. With a loud yell of alarm, he sped off in the other direction, trying to get as far away from that man and that sickening injury as possible. Thankfully, just as he had another episode, his father walked out of a neary conference room and ran into him.
"Harrison! Was that you with all of the shouting?" he asked, prompting his son for an answer. His father used to be paranoid, but after years of recovery he had recovered almost completely. Working in a hospital helped him a lot, too.
"Dad, you don't get it, there was this man and this wound he had was so-" Harrison's description of his own side of the story was cut short by his father.
"I don't care who made you lose it. You're missing the point I bring up time and time again when you have these immature scenes. You need to learn to get a grip on yourself. Did therapy really just not give you any help at all?"
Harrison's father meant good at heart, but he lost his patience with Harrison rather quickly, as most people did. The only person that had seemed to completely understand him was nothing anymore.
With a sigh, Harrison pretended to settle down just to get his dad off his back. "Alright, alright... I'm sorry... again. Is the world safe now?"
His father laughed, an angry, non-amused laugh. "Well, it could be if you manage to be quiet for another few minutes so I can wrap up this really important meeting that you just distubred. Can you handle that?"
Harrison looked from his father and back to the elevator. In his mind, he was contemplating his reason for coming back down from the only place he could find himself sane at. Just to get another shouting from his father that only pretended to care? It wasn't worth it anymore. Coming back from the top felt awful, and he wasn't ready to relive that feeling over and over again only to be greeted by his annoying father at the end of it. He looked down at his wrist at though asking the little string, "What can I do?"
Actions speak louder than words. Harrison walked all the way back down the hallway and into the elevator, ignoring his father's loud protests and his fear of the evil machine. However, in his rage, he managed to press the button that would take him back up to his own little piece of heaven.
Little did he know, in only a short time span, there wouldn't be one slice of heaven left to go around.