The Institution For Young Adults

Chapter Seven

Warning: This book is entirely fictitious. Mentions and actions of anorexia and self harm. Do not romanticize mental health illnesses. 

Oliver's POV:

      I turned around and opened my new door. Grabbing all three bags and clumsily carrying them inside. Quickly finding out that that was a major mistake. I should've just made two trips. While stumbling into the room, blinded by my pile of bags, I tripped over the area rug on the floor, ending up on my back sprawled out in the most uncomfortable position. Worst of all my bag full of books landed right on my stomach. Effectively knocking the air out of me. Something I can't seem to escape these days. My ears were ringing from the sound of my fall along with my bags. Up the hall I heard a door open and quick footsteps. A little bit later there was a knock on my door. 

    "Are you okay? Can I come in?" A voice like honey asked. I was going to reply that I was fine, but while trying to sit up a book stabbed me in the side making me whimper. That seemed to be the only answer Mr. Honey voice needed and he opened the door. The door opened and gave way to the sight of the mystery honey voice man. He looked tall. Not as tall as Miguel. Probably a couple inches shorter. Maybe 6'0, so still tall to me. He had blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. The man was wearing a blue T-shirt and some basketball shorts with black socks that had, sleep deprived, written on them in cursive. He looked kind of skinny but had defined arms and legs. 

    "Now how did you end up down there on the floor?" Mr. Honey voice asked. Coming over to help. 

   "Well I wasn't r-really planning on ending up on the floor. Although the carpet is soft." I whispered out shyly. He cracked a smile at me. Picking up my bags and moving them onto the bench at the end of my bed. "I-I guess I was a little lazy and d-didn't want to make two trips. So I c-carried all the bags at once. Bad idea, I guess. I c-couldn't see over the heavy bags and tripped on the carpet falling on my back. It wouldn't have been so bad if one of those bags weren't a-all books." I continued sheepishly. He just smiled and shook his head at me. 

   "No worries, as long as you didn't hurt yourself. I'm Blake Roberts, but you can just call me Blake. You are?" Blake asked as he held out his hand for a shake. 

   "Oliver green, b-but you can call me Ollie if you want to." I reply with a tentative smile and politely shaking his outstretched hand. 

  "Well Ollie, do you need any help unpacking?" Blake asked with a caring smile.

   "Thanks, but I think I'll be alright." I replied quietly not wanting him to look through my first bag. 

   "Okay then, I'll just be in my room if you need anything. See you at dinner Ollie." He said in that sweet honey voice of his. Wait, what? Im not a freakin teenage girl. 

 "Okay." I whispered to him with a slight blush. He smiled once more and with a rub on my head left closing the door behind him. Making my blush rise. Oh great. I guess I am a teenage girl now. I set to unpacking my bags. I looked around the room trying to find a dresser of some sort. The room was nicely sized and spacious. A king sized four poster bed was against the back wall. Poking out into the center of the room. It had grey and blue bedding that looked incredibly soft and fluffy. On either side of the bed was a grey bedside table with one pot of flowers and a black metal lamp on each. Above the nightstands were two windows with royal blue drapes. At the end of my bed was an upholstered grey bench with my bags sitting on it. There was a round area rug rolled out on the majority of the dark wooden floorboards. It looked almost the exact same as the runners from the staircases. Intricate designs of grey, black, and royal blue. There were two doors along the right wall. I walked to the closest one and opened it.

   "Holy toledo." I gasped in astonishment. I opened the door to one of the most luxurious bathrooms I've ever laid my eyes on. The floor was a mosaic blue tile. There was a black chandelier on the ceiling. To my right was a two person sink and vanity. With a large rectangular mirror framed by the same mosaic tiles of the floor. To my left was a large walk-in glass shower, big enough for three or four of me. The same mosaic tiles on the floor transitioning to black tiles on the walls. There looked to be five shower heads. Why would one person ever need so many? Next to the shower was a deep and wide bathtub. The tub was completely tile. So it looked as if you were bathing in the ocean. There was a glass tray of body butters, bath bombs, and various scented bubble bath solutions. The wall behind the bathtub, well more of a jacuzzi, had a built in shelf. The outside was framed in the mosaic tile and the shelf itself was the back tile. Neatly organized on it were selections of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. At the end of the bathroom there was a door leading to the toilet. Kinda strange though. Why would I need privacy from the rest of the bathroom to use the toilet if I'm the only one in this room?

     Getting back on track to finish my original goal I exited the bathroom and opened the door beside it. Inside this smaller room was a walk-in closet. Complete with built-in hanging rods, shelves, and drawers. There was an upholstered blue ottoman in the middle of the room. In the middle of the right wall was a large arched window with royal blue drapes. There was a standing mirror framed in black across from the ottoman. The floors were the same dark wood as my room. 

       Now that I found the closet I go back into my room to retrieve my bags and start unpacking. While sorting and organizing my clothes I make sure to hide some sharps among them. I'll put some in the bathroom too, and in my pillow cases. I put the rubbing alcohol in the bathroom at the very back of the vanity cabinet. Turning around from finishing hanging up the last of my sweaters I catch my reflection in the mirror. 

      I look disgusting. My eyes are red and puffy. My throat bruised. Dark circles under my eyes. And worst of all. I'm still fat. I turn to the side, knowing I look better that way. But I still don't like what I see. There are so many fat rolls. Too many to even think of hiding behind a sweater. I'm disgusting. Fat. Wrong. Stupid. Unwanted. A mistake. A no good deadbe-

     "Hey, I've been knocking for a good few minutes and no-one answered, so I came in. Is everything alright?" Shocked, I turn to see the intruder. It wasn't Miguel with his deep voice and it wasn't Blake with his sweet honey voice. Although his voice was pleasant too. He has the voice of tinkling calming chimes. It was some man with flaming unruly red hair and marmalade eyes. He looked to be the shortest one I've seen so far. Probably around 5'7. He had a similar skinny build like Blake. With defined arm and leg muscles. Although I could tell he also had defined abs from the tight white muscle tank top he was wearing. He also was wearing basketball shorts with red fluffy socks. Cute.

     "Earth to new guy. Are you okay? You don't look okay. You know I think I'll go get Miguel." The red head exclaimed with way too much energy for the late afternoon. 

   "N-no. No. Y-you don't h-have to get M-Miguel. I-I'm fine. I was just lost in t-thought. I'm sorry." I responded with a timid voice before he made it into a big deal. 

    "Well okay then. Must've been a pretty big thought. Anyway, my name's Jameson. But I prefer Jaime. A little less sophisticated than Jameson." Jamie told me in his calming chime like voice. 

    "H-hi." I said with a little shy wave. Gosh stop stuttering like a fool mouth! "I-I'm Oliver. You can call me Oliver or O-Ollie. I don't mind either." I ended in a soft whisper.  

    "Lovely to meet you Ollie! I came to bring you to dinner. Lets go the others are waiting for us." With those excited words Jamie grabbed my hand and all but dragged me down two flights of stairs to the dinning room.