102

E

unlocked, cup, pills, proof, nurse, follow. like every morning before. the main hall, like always, full with the same unresponsive faces and shuffling feet. again, i sit at my desk with the blunt pencil and white paper. i sit in a silence that isn't silent, the sound around me flows past and all i hear is the tick of the clock and the pen scratching the doctors paper ten feet away. i try to write you poetry but no metaphors nor similes are worthy of your time, no sentence I write should grace your eyes, no stanza you deserve.
the officer comes in reading the names of those with visitors and every week i get disappointed as he leaves without reading my name. just once i expected you to show, to say you're sorry or to explain your actions. not once have i even smelt your perfume or heard your laugh yet those things echo in my mind.
the silence i imagined is now a reality as only me and three mutes are left in the open white space in which we live. i brainstorm ideas and write the things i still remember so vividly of you and how poetry can stem from the fleeting memories. everyday gets harder as the pills numb my brain, don't take the pills and they numb my legs. thinking is harder than it was two months ago when my desk became mine. the silence was enjoyable and the thinking made me feel.
the silence broke like a grenade in warfare.
our reactions were nothing, turning heads and looking as a door flew open. no screams, no shouts only a "welcome" from the lobbyist. a shaved head with remains of blue hair dye attached to a short body that didn't belong walked through the door and looked around and eyes locked onto me, for the first time since i was forcefully admitted somebody noticed me, attention was payed towards me.
the body, i could tell, was not accepted by the personality and the loose clothing was intentional as was the tight bandaging on the chest the mind thought no one could see.
sitting down the new kid here looked straight, no movement. a still image on a canvas i wish I'd painted. my failing mind was intrigued by this being and I'm sure it could tell. the neck finally moved and looked right at me again and it spoke in a soft unfamiliar accent. one syllable, one letter. "E".