Semper ] a walk on the wild side
Nov 5, 2013 7:54:10 GMT -5
Post by semper on Nov 5, 2013 7:54:10 GMT -5
[/justify][/size][/color]i r v i n e
p a t i
Nothing happens. Perhaps I had just imagined the sound? No, no, I’m sure I had heard it, I really am. I watch the door but find that I hear a soft mumbling behind it (which is terribly odd because, when it’s not recess, it’s far too quiet in the hall). My curiosity intensifies and I bring my hand, as trembling and uncontrollable as it is, up to my face to wipe away the remainder of the tears. I then set my head back down and shove all the thoughts of a possible visitor out of my mind; my body does its usual constant involuntary jerking and twitching, all of which I have come to ignore. No use in trying to prevent it, right? The nurses have even said to me that I am only a lost cause, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.
I try to force my eyes shut in order to fall asleep but my door suddenly opens. I let out a terrified yelp, twisting beneath the thin sheet. The person now standing in my room is a complete stranger – certainly not any patient. (My room was unlocked the entire time?!) He’s not just skin and bone like I am, he doesn’t hold any psychotic look in his eye, and he’s not dressed in the dullasylumhospital clothes I wear every day. My heart starts racing and my muscle spasms start becoming more and more intense due to the fright, and all I can think is who is this guy?
He starts in my direction, saying hello and already telling me that he’s not crazy. (Is that meant to be an insult? That he’s not stuck here because he’s “not crazy?”) I’m about to growl at him but stop when he mentions something about talking to a shoe. Perhaps it wasn’t a direct threat to me, the most not-in-control of their body, the one that cannot speak, the one who can’t even properly feed himself. I let the words slide off and he introduces himself as Aiden, a name I’ve never heard before. So he’s really not a patient here. A new nurse, maybe? But he’s not dressed like everyone else and he should know the protocol about interacting with the patients, particularly the ones in my wing.
”I, uh, like what you’ve done with the place. The mirror’s very fancy.”
My ever-moving head turns so that I may look at my splintered mirror. Cracks run like spider web all over it, fragmenting any reflection it can cast. This guy’s gotta be joking. I turn my attention back to him with the best are-you-being-serious look I can muster, and when he asks me my name I stop.
I’ve never been able to say my name and have never been able to write it down. The only reason the nurses here know it is because my parents wrote it down when they signed my life away to the people in white coats. I immediately suppress the memory and drag myself out of bed as best I can, hoping that this Aiden guy doesn’t start thinking that I’m abnormal by the way I move. Every motion is jerky, my left foot drags along behind me, and my arms remain bent at the elbow with my fingers curled and yet still sprawled out as if they’re trying to do two things at once. I limp past him, avoiding the tray of food as if it’s got a terrible virus, and do my best to open the door. It takes quite a few tries before my hands awkwardly grab a hold of the knob and I yank it open, startled when it actually opens. A surprised squeak escapes me and I quickly prop it open to make sure that it stays that way (I’ve never heard of anyone’s door being unlocked before recess!). I peer out into the empty hall, more than tempted to just make a run for it. But where would I go? I’d never survive on my own in the Capitol. I quietly whimper and turn back around to face my room. There’s a clipboard hanging beside the door that’s got my name on it; I raise a gimpy hand and tap it against the papers, making small grunting noises in the hopes that Aiden would understand to read them.IRVINE PATI
DISTRICT 4 – RETRIEVED
SEVERE AUTISM
NOTES:
RECENTLY BECOME PRONE TO VIOLENT OUTBURSTS
KEEP AWAY FROM SHARP OBJECTS – FIX MIRROR IN ROOM