Finger on the Trigger: NaNoWriMo 2010Mature

Damien is 17, depressed, lonely and hospitalised.
Lucas is 18, different, desperate and on the same ward as Damien.
They can help each other, but will they get on long enough to forge a friendship?



I don't like hospitals. I've spent too much time in psychiatric wards, to be honest. If I'm injured, they're okay. But otherwise, I'd rather just not be anywhere near them.

They tell me to sit in the waiting room. I sit for a while, I pace, I lean against the wall, I bang my head on it. The woman on the psych ward reception watches me worriedly as she calls someone, glancing at me while she talks. I sit back down, cracking my knuckles and shaking my legs, staring at the floor until finally Campbell comes in and sits next to me.

"Hi, Damien," he says softly, "what's wrong?"

"Everything. Life," I shrug, not taking my eyes off the grey lino beneath my feet.

"Wanna come down to my office and talk about it? I've got a free hour," he stands up and I follow him down the corridor. He sits me down in the chair opposite his desk - he knows I fucking hate that couch. It's bad enough I have to open up to someone who'll only prescribe me antidepressants - I don't wanna be patronized too. He asks me about my drug problems and the self harm and all that shit, eventually getting to what I think is wrong with life.

 "So, what's wrong with life?"


The End

10 comments about this story Feed