Beechwood Descendants

DUNCAN

Duncan was cursed with the same repetitive routine for eight months.

Wake up, take medication for illnesses he probably didn't have, let nurses watch him shower so they could rest easy knowing he didn't kill himself in there, force himself to eat, more medication, tv with crazies, back to bed. It was an endless cycle and the only thing he ever looked forward to was mail day, the day he received the letters from Noah. Noah kept him sane in this hospital for nutcases, even if Noah belonged here more than he did.

"Duncan! Group therapy in ten minutes!" The meanest nurse in the hospital pounded on the door of his room. He groaned and pulled the suffocation prone blankets over his head to muffle his own scream.

"I don't wanna be here, I don't wanna be here, I can't be here another god awful month." He pulled the blankets off of his head after his mini rant and pulled himself out of the creaky uncomfortable bed he'd been forced to sleep on for months. His hair was sticking every which way but he couldn't make himself care as he pulled himself out of his room and into the recreation room where six chairs were pushed into a circle. He dropped into one and most of the other patients followed his lead until every chair was filled and a nurse was watching from the corner of the room waiting for them to "talk it out".

"Duncan, you start us off."

Duncan didn't react or speak. He stared at the floor with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Duncan."

"Leave me out of this Maureen." Duncan mumbled, tightening his arms around his chest.

"Duncan, please tell us why you're here." She wasn't letting up.

Duncan shot the nurse a glare and sat up straight. "Fine, all of my friends are dead and I'm the soul survivor of my psychotic drama teacher trying to kill us all. Oh yeah, and my parents think I'm going to kill myself."

"Are you going to kill yourself?" Maureen didn't wait a beat before bringing up the question. She didn't look at anyone else in the room other than Duncan.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Duncan shot a fake smile at the woman and slumped back down. Maureen started to approach Duncan's seat and he stood up, the chair sliding against the floor by the motion.

"You are going to behave yourself or I'm going to have to call your parents." She was standing in front of Duncan now. The two were having a very heated staring contest.

"Oh yeah, and what are my parents gonna do? Send me to a psych ward? Oh well, maybe they'll just get tired of my shit and murder me in cold blood, wouldn't that be something!" Duncan pushed past Maureen and she reached for his arm to stop him but he jerked his hand away and shot her a glare before returning to his room where he could sit and mumble to himself so that his roommate thought he was crazy and leave him alone.

After a few moments of silence, Duncan's roommate spoke to him for the first time in three months. "We got mail."

Duncan looked up from his spot on the floor. Conner was a good-looking guy and as far as Duncan could tell, he wasn't crazy. He had blonde hair and brown eyes that were the same color as the freckles that coated his entire body. Duncan didn't even like looking at the boy for too long. "It's Saturday."

"I know. Mail came early?" It came out as more of a question as Connor reached over and handed Duncan crumpled up envelope. It was obviously a used envelope that had been addressed to Connor and ripped open. Duncan shot Connor one look and slipped the piece of paper out of already opened envelope and unfolded it carefully. It was just a note in scratchy writing: ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴋᴀʏ?

"Can't you ask me that in person?" Duncan asked, wiping his nose and sniffing.

"Would you have let me?" Connor asked, sitting down with his legs crossed in front of Duncan.

"Probably not but I'd notify the gesture." Duncan shrugged. Connor smiled. Duncan watched him and swallowed hard. "You remind me of my friend. I can't stand to look at you."

"Your dead friend?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you?" Connor was smiling brighter now. "I hope this friend was good."

"He was. He was really good. Despite him always asking if I was gay, he was great." Duncan scoffed and wiped his eyes. "Sorry, I should get back to mumbling to myself and convincing everyone I'm crazy."

"No, I wanna hear more. Tell me about your dead friend, and yourself. Are you gay, Duncan?" Connor's smile grew teasingly and Duncan groaned, dropping his head against the wall.

"Stop. Do not." Duncan laughed.

"I'm a curious guy. . .bicurious." Connor shrugged and nudged closer.

"Fuck off." Duncan smiled. Connor giggled and shoved Duncan playfully.

Suddenly, there was a knock at their door and the two of them shifted away from one another as the door opened.  "Connor, someone's here to visit you."

Connor nodded and shot the nurse a thumbs up before standing and leaving the room without another look at Duncan. Duncan's smile faded when the door shut and curled up tighter, dropping his head against his knees and gripping his hair. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. My parents are gonna kill me."

Duncan stood and used the plastic mirror above his dresser that was bolted to the floor to fix his rats nest hair. He pulled out some jeans and a clean shirt for the first time in weeks and changed into them. Supposedly, he would have a visitor today too. He didn't know at what time but it was best to be prepared. His visitor wasn't his parents, or any friends that he didn't have, it was a mute boy from London. Duncan didn't know how he would get here or who bought the plane ticket but he didn't care, he was getting out of this hellhole and he was never looking back.

..........