One thing was different about this visit. The first night I wasn’t screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to let me out. I knew the situation and I realized the reality of it. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the fear. I was locked to a bed in a sanitarium because I had been taken in to custody for killing a man. How in heaven was I going to get out of this?
You’re not.
Fuck you, its on now.
---------------
Kevin, what do you want to talk about this time?
I want to talk about how you’re always in my head. You’re the constant. You’re there, 24-7, and you have been ever since the problem in the Corps.
Do you have a problem with that?
The problem with it is that sometimes you have a negative impact on my thoughts, like now. Why the hell do you have to give me shit NOW?
Look at yourself.
I can’t. I’m locked to a bed and the damn lights are out.
Exactly my point. You’re in a shitty situation, as usual.
Couldn’t you help me out of it? Instead of making me feel even worse?
Its up to you, Kevin. You’re the one in control, not me.
I’m never in control. And I haven’t been for years now.
Change.
If I thought I could, I would. Its not easy.
Do what you want, Kevin.
I want out of this damn hospital. There’s no way I’ll be able to find Chris if I can’t get the fuck out of here.
So do it. Get out. Run.
Fuck you. All you ever do is goad my ass along. You make me do shit I don’t want to do. You make life worse. Can’t you ever give some good advice instead of something that just fucks me up even more?
Go to sleep.
Okay.
---------------
Morning didn’t bring much excitement. In fact, morning didn’t bring anything. I slept clear in to the afternoon. After a sincere promise on my part that I wouldn’t do anything crazy, they unlocked me from the bed and brought me a tray of food. It actually wasn’t that bad. A little better than airline food, but still not your mother’s homemade cooking. I ate ravenously. I hadn’t eaten since Amy’s pancakes the day before. I suppose they trusted me to some degree now. I was let out of the “quiet room” and given the freedom to walk around the complex, with one catch. I was assigned a counselor that would go wherever I went. So, in other words, I was on constant watch. They call it suicide watch in some cases. Not me, though. That was the last thing on my mind. At the moment all I could think about was getting out of here. I doubted justice would work as swiftly as I desired.
Christian.
My counselor’s name was Jerry. At first he seemed a little intimidated by me, which wasn’t a surprise. He seemed nice enough, though. He was about 33 years old, short brown hair, small mustache, with a friendly face. He wore spectacles that made him look a little older than he would seem without them. We didn’t have much time for introductions. After a quick change of clothes he whisked me down the hall so we could participate in something called a “group session”.
---------------
Upon first look the group of people assembled in this room looked like your average assortment of people you might run in to on a bus or in a fast food restaurant. I wasn’t eager to get to know them or to even talk to them, but running on my dad’s advice I sat down and complied with the “group leader’s” request to join them.
“Group, let’s welcome a new addition to our little family. His name is Kevin.” The syrupiness in her voice made me want to blow chunks, but I stifled the urge. She was an older, middle-aged woman. I could tell she was sincere, but wasn’t everybody in a place like this?
Sarcasm?
Blow me.
The first thing I noticed about this conglomeration of mental patients was that there was only one other black person. She was what some people would call “thick”, but that would be a kind way of describing her. She must’ve been about 50 years old. She didn’t even look at me as I walked in. Already I was intrigued. What in the world did SHE do to get in here? I wouldn’t even put murder past her. After sitting down she still didn’t look at me. I turned to the rest of the group and managed a weak smile.
“Hi.” I wasn’t happy to be here and it was quite evident to everyone. Except for one man who seemed to be in his own world. He looked to be about 70, and didn’t look up at all. He was focused on the carpet and I wondered what was holding his attention.
“Kevin, could you tell us a little about yourself?” she asked politely, but that didn’t sway my decision.
“I really don’t want to.”
“Okay, we’ll save introductions for later. Right now we’ll get on with news about everybody else’s progress.” She pointed to a young man who looked to be sleeping. His hat was over his eyes and he seemed to be quite tall. At first I didn’t think he was even going to respond. Then he pulled up his hat and recognition hit me. Why was Darc in a place like this?
You’re not.
Fuck you, its on now.
---------------
Kevin, what do you want to talk about this time?
I want to talk about how you’re always in my head. You’re the constant. You’re there, 24-7, and you have been ever since the problem in the Corps.
Do you have a problem with that?
The problem with it is that sometimes you have a negative impact on my thoughts, like now. Why the hell do you have to give me shit NOW?
Look at yourself.
I can’t. I’m locked to a bed and the damn lights are out.
Exactly my point. You’re in a shitty situation, as usual.
Couldn’t you help me out of it? Instead of making me feel even worse?
Its up to you, Kevin. You’re the one in control, not me.
I’m never in control. And I haven’t been for years now.
Change.
If I thought I could, I would. Its not easy.
Do what you want, Kevin.
I want out of this damn hospital. There’s no way I’ll be able to find Chris if I can’t get the fuck out of here.
So do it. Get out. Run.
Fuck you. All you ever do is goad my ass along. You make me do shit I don’t want to do. You make life worse. Can’t you ever give some good advice instead of something that just fucks me up even more?
Go to sleep.
Okay.
---------------
Morning didn’t bring much excitement. In fact, morning didn’t bring anything. I slept clear in to the afternoon. After a sincere promise on my part that I wouldn’t do anything crazy, they unlocked me from the bed and brought me a tray of food. It actually wasn’t that bad. A little better than airline food, but still not your mother’s homemade cooking. I ate ravenously. I hadn’t eaten since Amy’s pancakes the day before. I suppose they trusted me to some degree now. I was let out of the “quiet room” and given the freedom to walk around the complex, with one catch. I was assigned a counselor that would go wherever I went. So, in other words, I was on constant watch. They call it suicide watch in some cases. Not me, though. That was the last thing on my mind. At the moment all I could think about was getting out of here. I doubted justice would work as swiftly as I desired.
Christian.
My counselor’s name was Jerry. At first he seemed a little intimidated by me, which wasn’t a surprise. He seemed nice enough, though. He was about 33 years old, short brown hair, small mustache, with a friendly face. He wore spectacles that made him look a little older than he would seem without them. We didn’t have much time for introductions. After a quick change of clothes he whisked me down the hall so we could participate in something called a “group session”.
---------------
Upon first look the group of people assembled in this room looked like your average assortment of people you might run in to on a bus or in a fast food restaurant. I wasn’t eager to get to know them or to even talk to them, but running on my dad’s advice I sat down and complied with the “group leader’s” request to join them.
“Group, let’s welcome a new addition to our little family. His name is Kevin.” The syrupiness in her voice made me want to blow chunks, but I stifled the urge. She was an older, middle-aged woman. I could tell she was sincere, but wasn’t everybody in a place like this?
Sarcasm?
Blow me.
The first thing I noticed about this conglomeration of mental patients was that there was only one other black person. She was what some people would call “thick”, but that would be a kind way of describing her. She must’ve been about 50 years old. She didn’t even look at me as I walked in. Already I was intrigued. What in the world did SHE do to get in here? I wouldn’t even put murder past her. After sitting down she still didn’t look at me. I turned to the rest of the group and managed a weak smile.
“Hi.” I wasn’t happy to be here and it was quite evident to everyone. Except for one man who seemed to be in his own world. He looked to be about 70, and didn’t look up at all. He was focused on the carpet and I wondered what was holding his attention.
“Kevin, could you tell us a little about yourself?” she asked politely, but that didn’t sway my decision.
“I really don’t want to.”
“Okay, we’ll save introductions for later. Right now we’ll get on with news about everybody else’s progress.” She pointed to a young man who looked to be sleeping. His hat was over his eyes and he seemed to be quite tall. At first I didn’t think he was even going to respond. Then he pulled up his hat and recognition hit me. Why was Darc in a place like this?