Status: A work in progress.

Everything But Time is Running Out

Obsession has begun.

Who knows how fucking long I've been here, but I was required to stay in that smelly old bed for another hot second because I apparently needed another blood transfusion. But after passing out for who knows how long, I'm able to be wheelchair-bound. It took some smart talk and some threatening but hurray! I'm allowed to wheel myself around without a God forsaken nurse following my every move.

I'm technically a suicide risk due to my previous 24 history but I was able to make a deal with Dr. Evans that as long as I am within sight of a hospital employee, I am free to wheel around at free will.

I did try to get up and walk, but fuck! I really did a number on my leg. 12 stitches and two units of blood later, here I am. Still alive and kicking (well, with one leg anyway).

So here I am, strolling along down the hallway of this psych ward, passing all kinds of crazy. I try to not pay attention because honestly, it's not any of my business why anyone else is here, but also because I only have one thing on my mind: food. And holy shit was I famished. Almost dying really does boost your appetite.

The Doc said dinner was almost over but it was okay because he'd let the people know I was on my way. I was able to get a few bites before curfew (aka lights out or else).

As I entered the "cafeteria," (i.e. a small room with foldable plastic tables set up and identical trays of food with clear plastic covers over them at each open seat), I notice almost all of the tables were vacant due to dinner ending in 15 minutes.

But alas! I did see one or two trays untouched!

So I bee-lined toward them until my wheelchair halted as if running into an invisible wall.

"Oh come on, you piece of shit," I complained under my breath as I tried to get the wheels to move forward. I could practically taste the food and of course this damn thing acts up.

I must've looked like a complete moron, cursing and jiggling the chair back and forth and obviously struggling to move, but hell. Who fucking cares. Everyone here is fighting their own demons. Mine just happens to be this God forsaken sad excuse for a mobile chair.

"Augh!" I scream, earning myself some very concerned glances of other patients trying to finish their meals. Suddenly, I feel warm hands on my own. I look up to see... the most easy-going hazel eyes. Uh. Sa-woon.

"Easy there, doll. One of your sides locked up," he said as he took my hands off of the wheels, placing them gently into my lap. He pulled the lever to unlock the wheel. I just stared at him, dumbfounded. I really wanted to say thanks or at least something wise/ coherent/ grateful to him but all I managed to say way,

"Food?" Ugh. I could just smack my face in right now. What are we now? Cavemen? Holy shit.

He chuckled and pushed my chair toward a table. Taking a second to move one of the foldable chairs out of the way to make room for my wheelchair, he set me in front of an untouched tray of food and plopped down next to me.

Well, because I probable already seemed mental and I was embarrassed as it was, I simply uncovered the food and dug in. A glass of some sort of liquid was placed near me, to which I grabbed it and gulped it down.

"Whoa there, sugar," he cautioned, placing his hand on my arm. " Slow down or you're just bound to choke to death. Or worse, end up with digestion." And with that, he made a (very adorable) face as if to say how unpleasant the latter would be. I took his advice and started ingesting food slower. I could feel his eyes on me, watching my caveman mannerisms. Do I dare take a peek at him? ...Hell yeah I do!

I side-glanced at him and noticed his clothes. Definitely not scrubs, so he wasn't an employee. Actually, his clothes seemed to match mine- a white and blue-polka dotted gown. And might I add some very intriguing and bad ass tattoos! Mm-mmm.

"Uh..." I started to say. "You're not a nurse." Nice observation, asshole. Couldn't I say anything intelligent today?

He giggled lightly, ruffling his shaggy dark brown hair. "Uh, no. No I am not. And may I point out that you are not a nurse either, which makes you the coolest chick around right now." He smiled a toothy smile at me. A very gorgeous, friendly toothy smile. Sa-woon.

I gave him a small ghost of a smile. "What's wrong with nurses?" I asked curiously.

"Actually, not much except when they start hunting you down for curfew. Then they are pretty much devils on Earth. I mean, who really goes to bed at 9pm? Who?" I glanced at the clock. 9:03. My eyes widened a little and this beautiful man sitting next to me noticed my panicked look.

"Hey, don't worry. I've actually have been here for a second. I'm part of the round-up crew to help boost my brownie points." He gave me a thumbs up and smiled brightly. I couldn't help but blush a little. I knew he wasn't smiling at me, but a girl could pretend.

"Are you done eating?" He suddenly asked me. I nodded. "Alrighty then! Shall we go for a stroll, dearest one?" He bowed with his arms guiding the way. All I could do was nod silently and dumbly. As we made out way toward my room, I noticed a very loud, red sign taped to my door. Suicide Risk it screamed. I felt my face immediately turn beet red. I knew he saw the sign, too. I mean, a blind man on the other side of the world couldn't miss it.

To my surprise, he walked past the sign into my room as if he didn't even read it. He helped me into the bed and gave me the call light.

"Now, if you need anything, press this red button. I certainly won't come running, but someone else more qualified will." He winked at me and turned to leave.

"Hey," I called out. He turned around, almost expectedly.

"My name's Frank," he smirked. "Frank Iero. I'm two doors down from you across the hall. Sleep sweet, doll." And with that, he was gone.

I'm sure my dreams will certainly be sweet tonight.


My eyes fluttered open and I went to hop out of bed until I realised I wasn't at home in my own bed.

"Aww, son of a bitch!" I cursed as I felt the wound on my inner thigh stretch. This leg will be the death of me. Actually, no it won't because I had already tried that before. Fuck.

I glanced at the clock. 4:59am. Ugh. I went to lie back down until a male nurse came into the room, rolling in a large mobile computer tower that had a bunch of dangling remote things attached.

"Good morning, Kara! My name is Nick! I'll be the one getting your morning vitals!" He beamed. I just started at him, blankly. As he took my temperature and vitals, he also gave me the run down of today's (and every day thereafter) schedule. "Okay Kara. Looking good! Vitals check normal, which is exactly what we want, isn't it? Well, breakfast is in a half hour followed by Group, followed by self reflection, snack and free time. Lunch will be at 12 sharp followed by another Group. Now remember ,the more you participate, the more points you get and we want points, don't we sweetie? Earn enough points and you win an evaluation with Dr. Evans! Then perhaps he'll grant you permission to safely leave the hospital and carry on with your beautiful life! Sound good, sweetie? I'll leave you to change for breakfast then!" And with that, he rolled his computer gadget out and I was alone.

I rolled my eyes and looked toward my new set of clothes. White with blue polka dots. What a variety of fashionable outfits we are granted to wear. #Blessed.

I changed and brushed my teeth, able to wobble my way around with the wheelchair. My hair looked like a pigsty but I couldn't find a hairbrush to save my life. Actually, I couldn't find anything in the bathroom beside toothpaste and a toothbrush. There was a laminate paper taped to the wall.

Comb 2 points
Soap 2 points
Deodorant 5 points
Slippers 6 points
Civilian clothes 10 points
Shaving razor 15 points
Access to hobby room 25 points

What the actual fuck. Who doesn't get free deodorant? Ugh. Now I gotta smell like this for God knows how long. Maybe I can avoid Frank until I get five points, when I can smell like a well-groomed human being. However I'm able to gain points.

"Knock knock!" I jumped and gasped, holding my chest as the movement caused shooting pain from my thigh. "Oh, sorry, love!" Frank came waltzing in. "I forgot you have a gimp leg." I groan inwardly. Next time I try to kill myself, enough with the poetic get high and bleed comfortable in a warm bath and just go straight for the gun.

"Hey Frank," I grumble, trying to pat my hair down from its frizzled mess.

"Hey to you, too!" He greets, somehow already standing next to me. "Sorry to scare you. Wanna grab some grub?" I wonder who the hell eats breakfast at 5:30 in the morning, but then choose to forget about that logic when Frank mentions I get two points for attending and finishing a meal. Yay! I can see my sweet, sweet hairbrush in sight!

It takes me a little while to wobble to the cafeteria; I was still getting used to my "gimp leg," but Frank seemed incredibly patient and continued to walk beside me. We made it to a table eventually and started eating in silence. I was aware of his presence the entire time but tried to act cool and collected, eating breakfast like someone who could eat by themselves proficiently. That is, until I go to eat a bite of my eggs and totally miss my mouth. Plop! On my lap they go and I just gawk at my empty fork, mortified. Do I dare glance at Frank? Do. I. Dare?

At the blink of an eye, my savior hands me a napkin so I can clean up my embarrassing mess. He starts to laugh lightly. "Careful there, doll. Your mouth is a little higher than that." I don't make eye contact as I pick up the egg pieces, horrified of the situation. It was then that I looked over to notice Frank's red shirt. Red?!

"You're wearing a shirt!" I examined and immediately retracted. "Uh, I mean... The shirt... is red. I mean! It's..." I stuttered.

"-not a gown?" He offered. I simply nodded. He smiled at me. "Yeah, I normally just wear my gown for bed or around newbies so they don't get freaked out and confuse me to be a nurse. It sees to go better if I look like a new patient, too."

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Oh, about two week," he guessed. "Actually, I'm due for a re-eval, but when I saw you get wheeled in unconscious with bags of blood, I decided to stay. I'm a naturally curious bastard." He smiled a goofy smile at me. I felt my face blush for no reason and turned toward my food.

"So what are you in for then?" I dared to ask. He seemed to not be shy about the matter.

"Well, I told my therapist I was contemplating suicide, but I didn't have a plan or anything. That was enough to admit me," he explained.

"You told them that?!" I asked, baffled.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "It's not like I'd actually do it; I just don't like having those thoughts and feeling so bad, so I thought I'd confess. I wanted to feel safer and get it off my chest." I nodded silently. We were alike but different at the same time. "I see you're quite braver than I am," he continued. I smiled a little bit.

"Yeah," I admitted. "It's not really death I'm afraid of, though, but just how much it will hurt-"

"You mean, how much it would hurt," he interrupted. I was taken aback as he indirectly tried to change my mind.

"Uh, yeah..." I trailed off, but the continued to speak. "Now I know that failure hurts actually quite a lot." I felt a hand on mine and turned toward Frank. His face was surprisingly dead serious.

"Hey," he spoke softly. "I'm glad it was a failure. There's no reason a pretty lady such as yourself should die so young and cruelly." I was taken aback again by the sudden honesty and openness of the statement. I'm sure he could see how red my cheeks felt.

"You don't even know my name, let alone who I am, but yet you say something like that." I remarked shyly. His hazel eyes never left my face.

"Well, I'd like to get to know you."

Wow. So extremely direct! I felt butterflies in my stomach and my heart skipped a beat.

"Why?" I gasped, totally confused.

"Because," he said. "Actually, I'm not exactly sure why, but when I saw you rolled in all unconscious and everyone trying to get you to hold onto life and all, it made me want to help heal you, too." He beamed at me and put his arm around my shoulders.

"I officially declare that we are Binny Buddies!" He yelled, earning some violent Shush!'s from nearby patients.

"Frank," I harshly whispered, "What are you doing shouting like that? And what are binny buddies?"

"Loony bin buddies! I just now made it up. It's a very special secret name just for us!" I rolled my eyes at his childishness but couldn't help but to smile.

"Well, my name is Kara by the way. Can't be buddies if we can't be on a first name basis." I offered my hand to shake. Instead of shaking it, he took my hand and gently kissed the top of it.

"Well, milady, it looks like the start of a beautiful beginning." His eyes sparkled in the cafeteria light.

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