It’s Breakfast. Everyone comes down in their hospital gowns. You don’t know what they are though do you? They’re itchy, fat, cotton gowns that make you look like an insane patient. Oh wait! I already am.
I sit down at the back table. The warden walks along the front with what looks to be some sort of whip. She thrashes it in her hand. The doors open again, and a woman lying in a bed comes in, screaming. She thrashes out and screams “Help me! Help me!”.
No one else even looks up at her except me, her eyes are blood shot and there are scratches at her face, as if she tried to tear off her face. She cries and flails as 3 Nurses wheel her into the kitchen to force feed her some food. I tried to swallow the vomit rising in my throat. Imagine, being that helpless!
I look down at my breakfast. Ew, it looks like someone threw up on Dr. Seuss’s eggs & ham. I push my tray away and look once more around the dining room to see someone approaching my table. She has platinum blonde hair that falls down to her butt. She waves and comes and sits beside me.
“Um,” I say.
“Hi! I’m Kirsty!”
“Oh . . . I’m-”
Kirsty cuts in, “Names are pointless here, they just call us by numbers,” she whispers. “Eat your food or they’ll force feed it to you,”
I pick up my fork and put some eggs, or at least what I thought were eggs into my mouth.
“So what are you in for?” she asks, leaning in so no one can hear her.
“Honestly?” I reply, “I have no idea,”
“Oh, I set my house on fire, or at least that’s what they tell me. But you see, I don’t even like fire!! It freaks me out,” she shudders before continuing, “What’s your room number?”
“Um . . . I think its 208B” Is she a stalker? I think to myself.
“Ok, I’ll see you tonight,” she says getting up, “And don’t worry, I won’t get caught. Oh and I’m not a stalker,”
She skips out of the dining hall and leaves me stunned.
I made a new friend. I made a friend in an insane asylum.