We Feel Like Dead Ends

Movement stirred in the yard and Jenna and Jack scarcely breathed. Jenna scooted herself the slightest bit closer to the fence. And they watched.

A tall, lanky man wearing dark blue overalls over a red plaid flannel shirt trod into the garden from the building. He had dark hair and slight stubble that was near invisible from the distance. He kept looking behind him, then stopped abruptly and said something to… someone. He appeared very distressed, motioning with his long fingered hands angrily. He rolled his eyes and said something else. Finally, he seemed satisfied, and continued walking into the main field.

The man was then followed by a small group of teenagers. Jenna nudged Jack with her elbow excitedly, not looking away from the patients. Jack smiled and leaned the tiniest bit closer to the fence.
The teenagers all wore the same clothing. Black jackets to fight the frost over navy blue hospital scrubs. One or two of them wore some accessories; a beanie here or there, Doc Martin boots on a tall boy. They all wore the same expression, too. It showed itself in different ways on each person, of course, but they all had the same haunting eyes and slow movements. Slow movements as they (supposedly) fought against whatever they struggled to against.
The lanky man in overalls sat down on the grass and the patients scattered themselves around him. Jack counted them silently in his head:
1… 2... 3… 4… 5.

Jenna looked at Jack and raised her eyebrows at him.
Do you see Alex? She mouthed. He shook his head ever so slightly, and she shrugged.

“Oi, Mike.” One of the patients said rather loudly, in a pronounced british accent. He scratched behind his ear, revealing a couple tattoos. “It’s cold out here, can’t we just do this inside?” The other teenagers nodded in agreement and murmured under their breath.
“Oliver. No.” The man (Mike, apparently) said. “It’s mandatory that you guys come outside at least once every other day. I worked hard on this garden and we’re going to fucking use it.” Oliver rolled his eyes.
“Okay, then just get on with it, will ya’?” He muttered.
“Shut up, Oli.” Another teen in blue scrubs said. This one was obviously a girl; she had long brown hair set in waves and her lips were pink and heart shaped (By every definition, they were kissable lips.) She look exhausted, whether it was from Oliver’s shit or lack of sleep was debatable. “The sooner Mike is satisfied with our ‘physical activity’-” there was scattered laughter, “-the sooner we can go back inside.”
“Mike’s always a fucking twat about how long we need to spend outside, though.” A skinny boy with another british accent spoke.
“Damnit, Dan.” Mike said, his eyes narrowing but a smile breaking out on his face. “You should all know I care about all of you kids. And-“
“-It’s for your own good.” They all chorused in bored voices. Mike laughed, the joy lighting up his face in a way that unexplainably made two of the patients laugh as well.
“Sorry, guys. Required phrase for anyone who works here.” Mike said sarcastically. “Now, let’s go through with the questions first and then you can pass the rest of the hour doing whatever.” At the mention of ‘the questions’, the teenagers groaned. This was apparently another required part of the day. A greatly disliked part of the day.

Jenna and Jack watched and listened intently as the patients arranged themselves into a wonky circle around Mike.
“I’m Oli and you guys all know this already so I don’t know why I’m repeating myself again.“ The tattooed boy said hastily, obviously hoping to get this whole thing over with. “I’m 18 and I’m from Sheffield which is all the way in the UK. I have an accent. Fucking deal with it.” He looked at Mike tiredly. The older man motioned with his hand for Oli to continue.
“I’m in this place because, like all of you freaks, I’m messed up in the head. Clinically depressed since I was 13.” Again he looked at Mike. “And today’s question is…?”
“Who do you miss.” Mike said curtly. Oli sighed.
“I don’t miss anyone.” He said. Mike frowned but let it pass.
Everyone turned expectantly to the boy on Oli’s right side, a small boy with soft dark brown hair and wide eyes.
“I’m Ryan, 16 years old.” He spoke quietly, not making eye contact with anyone. “I’m from Nevada. Sometimes I have panic attacks. And I miss my sister.” He finished, quickly withdrawing from the circle to sit under an evergreen tree. Oli rolled his eyes and whispered something to the girl on his left. She grimaced and shoved him away.
“Okay, who’s next?” Mike prompted.

They went around the group of 5. And Jack and Jenna observed it all.
Dan was the other british boy who’d spoken before; the thin one with blond hair and a prominent jawline.
”17, from Surrey, London. UK, obviously, if this shit accent didn’t give it away.” He spoke briefly about recovering from an eating disorder, and at the end, whispered “I miss my friends.”
Max was a boy who sat closely next to Dan. His voice held the hint of an accent, too, but he seemed to be trying hard to disguise it.
“Everyone here knows everything about me, this is pointless.” He retorted with a melancholy smirk. “…but yeah, I’m 15 and I may or may not have a bit of an alcohol problem. And, leading into the next question, I also may have a touch of separation anxiety. Because I miss my step sister a lot more than I ever thought I would.”
The girl in the circle introduced herself as Tay. She yawned, then continued:
“-15, I’m from around here, and I can’t sleep at night. If you have any energy drinks stashed in your room, please donate them to me.” Everyone laughed a little and while they were distracted, she slipped in a whispered “I miss my life.”

What an odd bunch. It wasn’t exactly how Jack had expected it to be, but somehow it matched the image he had in his mind exactly. The kids were just as saddened as he had imagined. However, the interaction of the patients and Mike (whoever he was) was completely unlike anything Jack had ever thought about. If Mike was some sort of employee at the institute, it would be strange and disrespectful for the patients to treat him the way the currently were. But Jack highly doubted that Mike was anything but an employee; why else would he be around the ‘highly secure’ property, leading mentally unstable teenagers through questions and telling them to get the required amount of fresh air. And why would he say that he ‘worked hard on this garden’? Nothing added up, at least in Jack’s mind.
The sad children of the hospital lounged on the grass, chatting in pairs. Max held onto Dan tightly, held onto his voice, on his every word and every movement. Jenna watched them, intrigued. As much as Jack’s expectations were slightly off, hers had missed by a long shot. She was surprised at how much this group of teenagers had bonded. And these couldn’t even be all of them. 5 patients out of an entire hospital. The thought of hope and friendship blossoming within that whitewashed building filled her with a warm happiness.
Jack had noticed the kinship in the patients as well. But instead of being reassured, he only felt a sinking feeling, deep in his heart.