For Lola

The paint won't make the pain fade.

Days have passed and I'm getting used to talk to people who actually have lived here for several years. They tell stories, mad stories. About their childhood and how they all got addicted to something; a bad image of themselves, worries or drugs.
They all need help but I'm still sure I can handle myself.

I just feel like Charles is somewhere reaching out for me. He didnt leave me. I am a thousand percent sure that something important came up and he just needed to get there.

I keep telling myself this story, over and over and over again. But you know how stories go. You tell them over and over again but each time you just add a little something. A wish, an expectation...

"Earth to Mary? Have you woken up from your daily daydreaming yet?", someone shouts.

I spat out of my thoughts.

"Oh well, rise and shine, beautiful", Violet tells me, she's a nurse here.

Okay, I am clearly awake.

"How was your night rest?", she asks.

"Pretty good", I lie.

I have been thinking of him and only him. But the image is now slowly fading. I've cried my eyes out last night. Something, as I have previously said, that barely happens.

"Here's your breakfast, I will take it back when your done, okay? And oh, I want to remind you that today is an important day! They'll take your mental test today. Maybe you'll get released soon!", she enlightens me.

Mental, God damn, this whose institution lives around the word 'mental', what is it even? What if it is a good thing?

I stop thinking about it as soon as I realize what Violet just said. Getting released soon? That means I get to look for Charles.

When Violet comes to take back my breakfast she rapidly says that today's activity is painting.

Great, I think. And I feel like she can read my mind when she rolls her eyes at me.

I decide to go 'painting' before I take my test but when I walk down the hallway, something catches my eye. I hear brushes falling onto the ground. They're mine.