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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 28, 2011 4:15:57 GMT -5
I skipped lunch today in favor of sitting in the small alcove at the end of the long hall. The corner turned but all it led to was a window in a 2 by 3 foot square of space. sometimes they'd put a large fake potted plant in this area, but today there was a chair, and I sat.
All of the people I was used to seeing around here were gone. Even the doctors and nurses and therapists had changed in the small amount of time I'd been out. It almost felt like a new place besides the fact that everything really was still the same. The same types of chairs, the same scratchy wallpaper, the same amount of tiles in the ceiling of the same group therapy room. It was disheartening.
I was slipping into a daze as I heard the screaming from across the hall. The wall opposite must have another room behind it, and the walls around here were thin. I hated screaming, any kind, one of them inside my head would always mimic the noise until the other's joined in. I didn't want a headache today. The screaming stopped though, and I lapsed back into my daze, wondering when someone was going to find me again.
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 28, 2011 4:34:18 GMT -5
I noticed the dark curls at first. That's all I saw. It was hard to see much else- his head was down, eyes closed, the rest of him tucked behind those never ending legs. I stopped and stared. I could feel the trembling start again. What is it with me and shaking? Could I be any more pathetic? I stared at him, waiting for him to notice me so maybe, if he looked up, just maybe I could reach out. Well, any excuse to skip lunch is a good one. I could wait.
{OT, how the fuck have we got 73 views already?}
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 28, 2011 4:49:24 GMT -5
I realized it was getting late and I sat up proper, staring back across at the wall. Blinking a few times and just staring, I thought I saw blue out of the corner of my eye. Which to me was strange, there wasn't anything blue in this whole corridor but my bathrobe. I turned to look down the hall, finding the boy standing there. He looked shaken, still shaking actually. He looked thinner standing alone than he had in the cramped lounge the day before.
I smiled lightly at him, thinking how odd it was for him to find me after I'd been looking for him most of the day. Obviously you're seeing things again, no one wants to find you. I closed my eyes momentarily and shook the noise roughly from my thoughts. When I opened my eyes he was still there, shaking.
[OT: (uhm, explain what ot stands for real quick) no idea at all, i hadn't even noticed though]
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 28, 2011 5:10:55 GMT -5
I stepped towards him. Realizing that I was incapable of reaching out metaphorically, I did so literally. I threw my arms around his neck, gave a quick squeeze, and backed away. I couldn't even grasp what I'd just done. Biting my lip, I almost smiled.
{OT means off topic}
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 28, 2011 5:26:03 GMT -5
I was thrown completely off guard by the physical affection, it'd been months since I'd last seen my mother, and she was the only one who ever hugs me anymore. It was so strange it seemed to have shocked the voices into silence. So I smiled and stood up, noticing that the boy really wasn't that much shorter than myself.
I reached out, waiting for him to shrink into himself again or run away from me, but he didn't; so I wrapped my arms back around him, hugging him back. I wanted to revel in how quiet the silence was, but I was too aware of his ribs sticking out of his slight frame and the way he trembled in my grip and I pulled away.
"You never answered my question yesterday....but that's alright, I like hugs more."
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 28, 2011 5:42:39 GMT -5
I could feel my eyes widen and light up, shock and happiness in them. I hadn't smiled like this, a full, for so long. I didn't know where to go next, how to speak out to this boy when it hurt so much to speak. So I just stood there, I smiled at my Christofer, and prayed that he would understand.
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 28, 2011 5:56:31 GMT -5
I noticed how quiet this boy was, and personally quiet people don't bother me. I like the quiet as much as I can get it. "It's cool if you don't feel like telling me, really. Are you hungry? They might still be serving lunch..."
I barely know this boy, but that's all he was it seemed. A boy. He barely looked old enough to be on the adult ward, and it appeared that I was the only one who paid him any mind. I felt responsible for him in a way. It was a strange feeling, and no one else inside my head liked the idea. So I went with it, what can I say, I'm a rebel.
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 29, 2011 6:36:42 GMT -5
I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't. So I took hold of a finger, just a finger. I was terrified of stepping over some kind of boundary. I took hold of his smallest finger, on the left hand, and began to lead him towards the lunch room, praying he'd take the hint.
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 29, 2011 20:53:27 GMT -5
I felt an amused smile light up my face, letting myself be led wherever he was taking me. After two corners I realized it was the lunch room, and almost felt relieved that he was going to eat something.
There were only one or two people left besides the staff and they all looked up and stared at us. I just ignored them as I usually do and slid my hand away from the boy's, in turn holding properly onto his hand and picking up a blue tray with what appeared to be peanut butter and jelly, milk, and a fruit cup. I looked over to him to see if he was okay with my selection, the only other trays were red and I was trying to ignore them.
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 29, 2011 22:58:20 GMT -5
I picked up a tray hastily - it didn't matter what was on it, it all ended up in the fucking toilet anyway. All that mattered to me now was that his hand was in mine. I broke out into a full smile and wondered where all my writing books were, whether the nurses had found them and collected them again. Maybe this boy would get to read them.
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 29, 2011 23:45:29 GMT -5
My brow creased when I realized that me having the blue tray meant that he had a red one, I shook my head to myself and pulled him to sit next to me at one of their rickety lemon-scented tables. I made sure to keep my grip on his hand loose in case he wanted to let go. there was a slow murmur stating up around us, or maybe I was just hearing it. I missed the mid-day med runs and I couldn't help noticing the nurse in red scrubs smiling at me in a way I wasn't sure of.
I angrily poked the straw into my milk, trying to hear the quiet. It was slowly dissipating as I looked over to the boy and tried to lose myself in the blue of his shirt. Swallowing thickly as the whispers reminded me that this boy was only taking pity on me, that the nurse in the red had poisoned my food. I was gritting my teeth, as I tried to smile back and waited for him to eat something.
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 30, 2011 0:05:56 GMT -5
He was watching me, so I took a bite of- what even was this, cheese and ham? That sounds right- and tried to force myself to swallow. It didn't work, but it looked like I did. One of the things about being the silent boy, I could pull off the whole chew-and-spit thing and no one knew the difference. Even having the food in my mouth, though, I was absorbing sugar, adding calories onto the fucking fat I saw on every inch of my body.
There were voices all around us, I could hear them. I could pick out Sandy, who insisted her name was in fact Victoria (but hey, in my mind she was a bitch, too. It doesn't matter who she really is, she's Sandy to me) whispering and muttering, pointing at me and I was starting to get scared. People kept noticing me. I was fucking terrified. I kept smiling, but I couldn't help squeezing his hand as tight as I damn well could under the table.
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 30, 2011 0:55:06 GMT -5
I relaxed as he bit into his sandwich, I looked back to my tray. The nurse in the red had moved closer to the table, still smiling in her vile way. She put codeine in the milk. I'm allergic to codeine. Drink up.
"No." I looked back over to the boy, hoping he hadn't heard me, brow creased. There was a quiet cackle, you're fucking this one up fine on your own. I glared without thinking of who I was directing my gaze at.
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Post by William Beckett on Mar 30, 2011 1:13:15 GMT -5
His eyes were narrowed. I let go of his hand suddenly and backed away a little on the chair. I tried not to stop smiling, in case he hadn't meant it, but my eyes were watering. I was terrified. He hates me, I knew it, he absolutely hated me.
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Post by Gabe Saporta on Mar 30, 2011 1:33:07 GMT -5
My heartbeat sped up as I witnessed his reaction, fear flooding my system. The laughter and the whispers were getting louder, overlapping and it hurt to try and think, but I couldn't let him act like this. "No, no, I'm sorry I just-" The nurse in red rushed over to try and help, reaching out for the boy and I jumped up, "Don't touch him!" She paused, slightly dazed at my outburst before turning back to the boy, "William, are you alright? Do you need your medication?" She reached out for him again and I grabbed the milk from my tray, throwing it at her. It hit her shoulder, before falling and spilling out. She glared at me and smirked as I was restrained from behind, "No, stop! She poisoned me and she's going to hurt William!"
I tried to pull away, tried to save him. I hated the way all the whispers mocked me, repeating his name over and over and laughed. "SHUT UP!" There was a prick in my neck and everything faded out.
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