Status: The end. Thank you all so much for reading.
Wrists
longing .
One of the head employees of the clinic—she told me to call her Dr. Reynolds—approached me when everything at the receptionist desk was done and over with. Her thin lips were caked with dark red lipstick, and the eyelashes surrounding her droopy blue eyes were so long they trapped strands of her dark brown tresses. After asking a few questions about myself Graham (“What’s your name, dear?” “How old are you?” “Where do you go to college?”) she led him down a few hallways and towards the bedrooms exclusively for males.
“Your room number is 228,” she said carefully as she took out a key and opened it. “You are to strictly stay on the male hallway at all times, unless we tell you otherwise. Understand?” Once I nodded, still unable to speak correctly, she swung open the door and showed me the small bedroom. “It has a nice view of our garden!” She squealed, as if that was the cure for life’s hardships.
“Thankyou,” I muttered, dropping my suitcases by the single bed. I wanted nothing more but to be alone—everything happened so fast that I don’t even know how to react to it all. Elijah wanted to talk to me, my mother just left me, and now my entire family (including my father) was going to find out that I. I just don’t eat. And imagining the look on his face when he found out was enough for me to want to kill myself.
“Once you get a little settled down, we’re going to begin by you entering our conference room and meeting all of the other patients.” Dr. Reynolds gave me a benevolent smile. “And after that, you’re going to have a one-on-one with your guidance counselor. Okay?”
I nodded. I had no choice but to go through with it. Graham was shoved back into a cage—the horrid creature—while everyone poked and prodded. I was trapped. “But, before that,” she continued. “There is a number one rule you are currently breaking.”
She must’ve noticed the confused look on my face, because she resumed speaking. “Your phone, dear.” Dr. Reynolds reached for it, but I backed up on instinct. “You’re not allowed to have any outside calls unless supervised and during calling hours. Okay?”
I hesitated, glancing down at the flashing screen—Elijah had just called again—wanting nothing more than to run into a nearby bathroom, alone, and return his many calls. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to do this.
But, I also knew I had no choice. It would only cause my mother more problems by resisting. Graham had to get better. For my family. For Elijah. For myself. So I slapped the phone in the palm of her hand and avoided her heavily-made up stare.
I didn’t want to do this.
“Your room number is 228,” she said carefully as she took out a key and opened it. “You are to strictly stay on the male hallway at all times, unless we tell you otherwise. Understand?” Once I nodded, still unable to speak correctly, she swung open the door and showed me the small bedroom. “It has a nice view of our garden!” She squealed, as if that was the cure for life’s hardships.
“Thankyou,” I muttered, dropping my suitcases by the single bed. I wanted nothing more but to be alone—everything happened so fast that I don’t even know how to react to it all. Elijah wanted to talk to me, my mother just left me, and now my entire family (including my father) was going to find out that I. I just don’t eat. And imagining the look on his face when he found out was enough for me to want to kill myself.
“Once you get a little settled down, we’re going to begin by you entering our conference room and meeting all of the other patients.” Dr. Reynolds gave me a benevolent smile. “And after that, you’re going to have a one-on-one with your guidance counselor. Okay?”
I nodded. I had no choice but to go through with it. Graham was shoved back into a cage—the horrid creature—while everyone poked and prodded. I was trapped. “But, before that,” she continued. “There is a number one rule you are currently breaking.”
She must’ve noticed the confused look on my face, because she resumed speaking. “Your phone, dear.” Dr. Reynolds reached for it, but I backed up on instinct. “You’re not allowed to have any outside calls unless supervised and during calling hours. Okay?”
I hesitated, glancing down at the flashing screen—Elijah had just called again—wanting nothing more than to run into a nearby bathroom, alone, and return his many calls. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to do this.
But, I also knew I had no choice. It would only cause my mother more problems by resisting. Graham had to get better. For my family. For Elijah. For myself. So I slapped the phone in the palm of her hand and avoided her heavily-made up stare.
I didn’t want to do this.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanks for reading, all of you. Really. I appreciate it.