These Halls Are Never Empty

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Kaulitz. This is the third time you have been in my courtroom, and this time, not only is it for vandalization, but theft.”

Tom hung his head as the judge chastened him. His mother and stepfather, who he considered his literal father, refused to bail him out this time. It was juvie for him this time, no doubt. He wouldn’t last a day in juvie. Some people in there were there solely because he and a few friends had snitched on them, and something like that was not forgiven in the groups Tom ran with.

“Where in the world did you get the idea to break into that car and take the stereo? I know for a fact that you don’t even have a car of your own!”

Tom hung his head lower. He knew he had fucked up, fucked up royally. And for the following months, he would be walking around in a disgusting orange jumpsuit with bruises and bloodstains.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Tom swallowed and lifted his head. “I know it’s probably not worth much, but… I truly am sorry. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I take complete responsibility for it. If I could go and take it back, I would.”

The judge stared straight at Tom. Tom felt a chill run up and down his spine; he always felt as if the judge were staring straight into his mind.

“Son, unlike most people I see in here, you actually seem to be showing remorse, and I am very good at reading people. I can see the shame you have, and I can see how sorry you are. Therefore, I’m giving you a choice.”

If the judge said ‘Camp Green Lake or jail’ Tom was going to shoot himself.

“You can either be sent to juvenile hall for three months, where you will pay for your debt to society, or… you can do community service.”

Tom perked up a little. “Community service?”

“Yes. The hospital needs janitorial services and can’t afford it. You would be doing them a great service.”

Tom nodded. “Yes, I want that.”

The judge smiled. “300 hours of community service.”

The slam of the gavel rang around the room.

~+~

“I cannot tell you how much this means to us.”

Tom shrugged. “This or juvie.”

“I know many who rather go to juvenile hall than do manual labor. So, my thanks still stand.”

Tom shrugged again. The dark blue jumpsuit with the hospital’s logo, Sacred Works, on it was uncomfortably starched and made him feel like the janitor from Scrubs. He half expected JD to come around the corner with Turk, talking about Rowdy, the stuffed dog.

“Just tell me where to push the broom.”

“Well, here is a pager so you can go wherever there is a mess.” The hospital director handed him a square piece of black plastic. Tom put it on his belt loop. “And here are your keys to the janitorial closets. And that’s about it.”

Tom stuck the ring of keys in his oversized pocket.

“Oh, and before I forget, the patients on the fifth floor? Be cautious of them.”

Tom had never heard of anyone having to be cautious of hospital patients. “Why?”

The doctor gave him a sly look. “Oh, you’ll see.”

The man walked away. Tom stared after him, then shook his head and sighed.

“Whatever, then.”

~+~

Tom was mopping the third floor when he was approached by another kid around his age. He had a regular shirt on, but his jumpsuit was merely unbuttoned and tied around his waist to look like jeans.

“Newbie?”

Tom chuckled. “Yeah.”

“I could tell. You mop slowly.”

Tom chuckled, again. “Ah, I’ve never really mopped seriously before. I’m still learning.”

The kid stuck his hand out. “Dmetri Koföd.”

Tom shook it. “Tom Kaulitz. So you actually work here?”

The kid looked around nineteen. He had deep brown hair and green eyes that were flecked with blue.

“Yeah, I work here. Chose to stay here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was in the same boat as you. Community service and all that jazz. When my sentence was up, I chose to stay. This hospital, it gets into your blood, and you feel weird without it.”

“I doubt that will happen to me.”

“I thought the same thing.”

Tom shrugged, then put his mop against the wall. He massaged his wrists, grimacing. “Fucking hurts. I’m so fucking out of touch.”

“Ha. Don’t worry dude. It’ll wear off.”

Tom sighed and looked up. “What’s on the fifth floor?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The guy said to be careful of it, and I want to know why.”

“Ah, I see. Fifth floor is where all the long-term crazies are kept.”

“It’s the psych ward?”

“Yep.” Dmetri jumped up on a laundry cart and balanced on the edge. “A few of them are nice but suicidally bipolar, so they keep them there under constant observation. Most of the rest are general cans of mixed nuts.”

“Ah, that sucks. And every other floor?”

“Normal sicknesses.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah. Well, Tom Kaulitz.” Dmetri brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “Welcome to being a janitor for Sacred Works.”