Brick Walls and Picket Fences

White wash walls.

Flash.

Ugly blue cot.

Flash.

Funny little red head.

Flash.

Everything always came it flashes for me. The door with window, I never glanced at it. I knew
they were trying to make me better. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but they were trying to fix it.

The funny little red head sitting on the other cot in the room said, "You're always on display. They watch and learn from you. Just remember to pretend that there's no other place you'd rather be."

She was wise, that funny little red head

She was small, or petite, whatever you want to say, but she said the wisest and enigmatic things. You'd think she was a saint if you knew she was sane. I didn't know her name, but she knew mine.

There's honestly no telling where she gets her information.

I didn't like to talk, so when she started her ramblings, I just listened. That's what she was doing at the moment. She said, "Those people looking in," she pointed at the door without looking at it, "they know exactly what we're here for. Do I know? Yes. Am I going to tell you? Probably not. If you're here long enough you know everything." I nodded and everything faded it black array as I studied a particularly annoying string on my bed/cot/thing. She was still talking, that funny little red head, but I didn't really hear what she was saying. I didn't really pay attention to anything, but the lovely music playing. I didn't know where it was coming from. We certainly didn't have a player in here.

There isn't a player anywhere near this room as far as I'm concerned. I mentally shrugged. Who knows? I may be wrong.

It's a lovely piano solo, though.

Flash.

When I remembered stuff again, a motherly nurse was whispering to me, telling me it was time for my appointment.

What appointment? I wondered to myself, but got up, almost robotically and followed her to wherever she was taking me.

Flash.

Dinner is always served in your room. Especially if you're new, like me. I think. As far as I can remember I haven't been here that long, so I'd say I'm a newbie.

"Hey," that funny little red head said from her cot, looking at her dinner, "they gave me a brownie!" She smiled like it was the greatest thing in the world, and only she could have it. I looked down at my tray.

There was a brownie sitting next to my macaroni.

Flash.

Light blue hallways.

Flash.

Murmuring voices.

Flash.

I was sitting in some sort of recreation room, staring at a blank television. How I got here? I couldn't tell you. The funny little red head that is my roommate sat down beside me and leaned over to whisper, "This. This is going to be fun." She got up rather quickly and, as I watched her, it occurred to me, that had she'd been sane, she could have been something.

She tapped a tall guy on the shoulder. He was rather odd looking. He had long-ish brown hair, and he wasn't wearing the scrubs that they were making me wear, so I assumed he'd been here for a while. But he was wearing, a tight, V-neck grey shirt that hugged his, well not muscly, because he was oddly thin, but his toned upper body graciously, and a pair of skinny jeans that didn't leave much to imagination. There was some sort of hole in his lip, as if a ring was once placed in there.

She stood up on her tiptoes to murmur something in his ear and then pointed at me. He glanced at me and met my eyes, but then turned away really fast. He asked something and she nodded.

What was I getting myself into?

Flash.

Is it bad when you can't remember your psychiatrist's name? Because I couldn't even begin
to tell you her name. She has nice, long blonde hair, and pretty crystalline blue eyes. I feel like I should remember her name, but I don't.

It makes me feel ashamed that I don't her name. It makes me feel minuscule compared to the other patients she has.

"How are you, today?" She asked.

I felt my eyes tear up.

Flash.

That funny little red head with her enigmatic ways was sitting across from me on the floor in the recreation room.

"We're busting out of here," she said. I didn't say anything, but she shushed me and beckoned over that guy she talked to the other day. She continued, "He's going to help us.
Aren't you?"

He nodded.

Funny how I wasn't planning on this.