"Good morning, boys. Get some good sleep?" she asked, muffled by the mask. Oh, how I hate that mask. "Good news is, we're going to transfer you today to a different block with more stable patients like you two." Dull. Why do all these doctors speak so dull?
"Finally," Rj grinned, an actual glint of happiness in his face, "That room made me want to claw my hair out." This kid. I swear. One day something bad is going to happen and he's going to be the one making jokes, laughing on the side about how screwed over we are. Maybe he isn't as sane.
"About that," the doctor chuckled, continuing her notes on her clipboard, "You're going to be in a room that same size with two more people." Rj and I groaned in unison, making an ungodly sound. A few of the more unstable kids down the row matched our sound, except with more aggravation. I didn't even have to look to know that the restraints were put on them.
"Okay." She said, putting her pen in her pocket. "That's all I have for you today. You can pack up whatever you want and head over to the cafeteria. You'll be transferred to D Wing in about an hour." Just like that, she walked away, moving over to another group of kids.
"Well," I said, looking over at Rj, "let's go."
The cafeteria wasn't as bad as the rest of the asylum was. The walls were a very pale blue instead of white, and didn't remind me of the fact that hundreds of people were attempting suicide all around me. The chairs were about as comfortable as they get, floppy plastic, cold steel supports, and reminds me of elementary school in an odd way. The tables we're sort of decent, considering the fact they were straight metal, frozen to the touch, and made you want to bash your skull on them. The doctor's tables were lined up on the outer part, some sort of dark wood so they could write and take notes. To the right of them was the lunch line, where we'd line up with metal trays and acquire our "food."
"What's the most depressing part about this place," Rj said bluntly, staring at his reflection in the table, "is that you could take pictures from a prison, compare them to this place, and the prison would look more humane."
I nodded. What more can you do with him? I feel bad but he just randomly blurts stuff out. Sometimes true, sometimes not, sometimes just complete random. It keeps his personality random, but it makes me wonder on how sane he actually is.
