The first thing Cameron noticed when he woke up the next morning, was the smell of lavender. It made his nose itch uncomfortably but it was still pleasant. The smell reminded him of his mom- of his home. He missed his mom, his dad, his life. It was all gone now and there was nothing he could do about it.
He pulled himself off of his bed, stretching out his aching muscles that were screaming in protest. Mornings at the Mental Hospital were always the same- organized, repetitive, calm. No one fussed when morning came; not even the patients locked away in the lower levels on constant watch.
Today was the day where his twenty day admission period was finally over so he could go and (attempt to) socialize with the other patients. He was given more privileges, just as Tim had said, and was able to go outside (accompanied with an orderly) and eat in the dinning room with all the other “stable” patients.
He wasn't looking forward to seeing the other “crazies” but was relishing in the fact that he wouldn't be cooped up in his room or the Doctors office. This was a huge step to him; he was able to go outside, go play something. Maybe football.
Football. He's the Quarterback at his old school- no; not anymore. He isn't allowed to play football anymore; he wasn't allowed to be the Quarterback anymore. He lost those right along time ago when he decided to take drugs (“expired coffee, dammit!” He thought angrily).
Suddenly, going outside didn't seem like such a wonderful thing anymore...
He shook his head and then got dressed. He wasn't going to miss his chance at eating breakfast by reminiscing about his stupid choices.
Cameron walked over to his door and knocked loudly.
That was rule here; you couldn't just leave your room, you needed to knock on your door if you needed anything. The staff or orderlies would come and get you. It took him two weeks to get the hang out of it.
“Come on out,” Tim said, his quiet voice echoing against the chalk-white halls.
Cameron opened his door and stepped out into the hallway, “can I go get something to eat?”
“Morning, Cameron! Just let me check the list...,” Tim said in greeting, and shuffled through some papers.
Tim was a large man, quite intimidating, too, but he was really funny. He was also the only person Cameron really liked in this depressing place. “Morning, Tim.”
“Well, Sir,” Tim walked over to Cameron, smiling, “looks like your on the list.”
Cameron nodded, “yeah, the Doctor told me I was going to be on it.”
“C'mon, man, let's get you something to eat.”
Tim led him down the hallway, stopping at a chair placed in the middle. There was a set of stairs to the left, leading to the main floor. Tim picked up a walky-talky from his belt and turned it on.
“Marissa, I'm sending Cameron to join group C. Can you meet him at the stairs?”
The walky-talky hummed with static before a very feminine voice rang through, “we've been waiting for him, send him down. I'll have Sarah meet him.”
Tim smiled and nodded to Cameron, “head right down the stairs and a girl will be there to meet you- don't take any detours.”
“Good,” Tim gave him a little nudge, “see you when I see you. Marissa, he's coming to you.”
Cameron walked down the steep steps, the granite feeling railing pulling at his palm. The main floor was the coldest. He had been there once when the Doctor had to change rooms because of certain difficulties. In total, there were four levels to the Hospital. The Basement (or lower level) for the dangerous patients, the main floor where everything was: the kitchen, the waiting room, the admission desk, the dinning room, the lounge room, and the main office. The third floor was where Cameron’s bedroom was, along with all the other bedrooms. It was divided into the left side and the right side; the left was for suicide watch, and the right was for the neutral side. The fourth floor was where the showers were and the detention rooms.
“Cameron,” a woman called out from beside a closed door, “the dining room is over here.”
He followed her toward the room, passing the lounge room and the waiting room on his way. The main floor wasn't like the third floor. Instead of being white, it was dressed up casually with warm browns and creme colored whites.
He stopped at the door, smiling at the woman who he assumed was Sarah.
She was a short woman, with long black hair and a voluptuously shaped body. She wasn't beautiful, but she was kind of cute. “We're all in here waiting. Your in group C with few other kids around your age, so I'm sure you'll fit in.”
He smiled, but doubted her words. He wouldn't fit in with these people because he wasn't crazy- there was nothing wrong with him. He was here on some big, colossal mistake that should have been fixed a long time ago. He wasn't crazy- they were just the side effects of his expired coffee.
Speaking of which, he hadn't heard them all morning. It was strange and even more strange that he didn't notice sooner. He lived with them for the last couple of years. Shaking it off, Cameron walked in behind Sarah when she began to move into the room...