They say I'm crazy.
Implied it, at least.
Everything is white, even the bandages wrapping my wrist. It glistens when the sunlight pours into the window, but I barely notice. I can't take my eye off my other wrist with a strange braclet enscribed with my "paitient information".
I'm just numbers to them.
The second hasn't come to visit me, yet. It's been a couple of weeks since the "incident", as my new pshycologist likes to refer to it as. I like my old therapist better, but she rarely comes to see me. My parents are the same way. They're probably too busy with my baby sister.
Or maybe they just don't want to come to this place. I don't blame them, I can see how it would bother outsiders. Everyone hear is so calm when they're loaded with pills and medication, even me. I sleep well hear, despite the crying from the room next door.
The nurses are friendly, they say hello to me. I'm not used to it.
They put me in a room with a big window because I asked for it. Now, I can see the whole sky as the stars wink down at the earth. I sometimes even stay up on purpose, in hopes to see a falling star.
11:11--I wish for cheeseburgers served for lunch tomorrow. It's the best meal I've had so far.
The bed's just about as comfortable at my bed at home. I don't miss my room; I feel just as safe--maybe even more--than I did there. And I don't have to hear my stupid baby sister crying again.
I listen closely for my neighbors soft sobs. She is depressed. They think I'm sad, but I'm quite the opposite. For the first time in a while, I feel something.
I am alive, and I have my bandage to prove it. They let me keep it on. They like me to be happy. I'm no longer invisible.
There is a boy here that I see playing chess by himself all the time. He doesn't talk much, but I can tell he thinks a lot. Even when he's hopped up on those tens of thousands of pills, he sits there and concentrates on his thoughts. I want to ask him what he thinks about, but I know he won't answer. Even if the nurses and doctors notice me, no one else does.
I wish the second would come back. It would be comforting to see her face.