This Little Game We Like To Play

James comes to the window with me today. He hasn’t hurt himself since last week when he managed to get a plastic spoon out of the cafeteria. That’s a long time for James. I talk to James now. We have more in common that I thought.

We listen to the same music. We like the same shows. We both ended up here on pure carelessness.

James is here to talk to Nikki. Her desk was on the other side of the hall. James has an obsession with her. I stare un-expectantly out the window. The window goes from the floor to the ceiling. It gives you the feeling of standing on a very high ledge. I love it. Ten minutes pass as I watch a nurse pass the window on Quinn’s floor. Caroline approaches and ask me about my day so far. I tell her almost the same thing everyday.

“Is that her?” James pulls me out of my routine discussion. I press my body against the glass stare unblinkingly at the thin girl standing next to a guy. Unsurely she turns to the guy and then looks back toward me. Quinn back away from the window and walks away.

I feel the belt squeezing tight around my heart. I hit my fists against the window. I want her to come back. Why does she do this me? Anger surges through my whole body and I start to kick and punch at the window. I deserve to be tortured for what I did but this is unbearable. I start to curse and scream about how unfair it is while still attacking the window in hopes of it shattering and allowing me to fall six stories.

“Angel! Angel, calm down!” Nikki yells over my screams of despair and anger. I continue screaming my feelings loud enough that the whole floor could probably hear me.

“It’s not fucking fair!” I scream and throw my whole body against the thick glass of the window. It wasn’t budging. I hate it here. I give up on my attempt to break the window and slump onto the floor in silence as the sound of some guards approached.

“It’s fine.” Caroline waved them off. James watches intently as fidget and itch my hip. I have the strongest urge to do something I haven’t done in two months.

James hands me a plastic spoon he pulled from under his mattress. I stare it knowing well that he’s trying to help me by allowing me to hurt myself. I know I if I us the plastic utensil I’ll only end up staying longer. I decide to use the spoon anyway. I snap it in half and feel a little better when I see the sharp edges the broken plastic made. James watches I scratch at my hip with the sharp plastic. “I can’t.” I throw the spoon on the floor.

“It’ll make you feel better.” James calls after me when I leave the room. I can’t listen to him. He’ll do anything to have someone join him in his constant quest to find new ways of inflicting pain on himself. James is going to end up spending his whole life here. I go to the TV room and sit next to Jake on the uncomfortable couch.

“He tried to get you to cut, didn’t he?” he asks quietly because John was monitoring the room. I nod my head yes in response and stare at the football game that didn’t hold my interest at all.

I have to stay away from James so I can get to Quinn faster.