Whisper

Chapter Three: The Secret Room

"I got it!" Dannie cries through a large mouthful of cafeteria food junk.

"Got what?" I moan, pushing around the untouched peas on my plate.

"Your name."

"Okay, yeah, what about it?"

"Whisper," he says like it's the answer to my question.

I roll my eyes. "Whisper? What's that?"

"Your new name," once again, like it answers my question.

I toss the name around in my head like a stress ball in my hands. Whisper. Whisper. "Whisper." I smile. "I like it. What made you think of it?"

"Oh," Dannie shoves a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and I gag. "Those days you were shut out in that room, when you got quiet, you would always mumble to yourself quietly. Y'know, whisper. That's what you did. A lot."

"Well that's great," I frown sarcastically. "But, whatever."

"Whisper it is," Dannie pulls out a clipboard and writes down something.

"What are you writing?" I try to peek over his shoulder.

He nudges me away with his elbow. "It's the ward's log. I write down the names of each patient, their ID number; stuff like that."

"Well, it's not printed on my birth certificate," I decide to pop a pea in my mouth and fully regret it, "but I guess that's my name."

"Well then, welcome to Hell, Whisper," Dannie pats me on the back.

************************************

Outside, there's a large blacktop area. Accompanied by a few lonely picnic tables and a rickety basketball hoop, it's not picture-perfect. Remember those crappy schoolyards back in elementary school? Well, this is worse. It literally looks like someone bought an old dump and never fully cleaned it up.

I guess it's one of the least popular entertainment spots in the hospital, which makes it the perfect private area.

Dannie grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me towards the basketball court. He goes towards a locked, rusty locker, pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, unlocks the door, and throws a perfectly brand new basketball towards me. I catch it swiftly, dribble it a couple times, then take a shot and watch it go through the basket with a 'swoosh' sound.

"You play basketball?" Dannie asks.

"No. Actually, I hated basketball in school. I just, played it so much in PE that I learned a thing or two."

"Hmm," Dannie bites his lip as he takes a shot and makes it.

"You have a lot of practice?" I ask him.

"Well, when you've been here for ten years you find things to do," Dannie sighs and dribbles the ball.

"Ten years?" I exclaim.

Dannie nods his head. "Almost eleven. Guess I should start celebrating anniversaries, huh?"

"Ten years," I repeat. "Ten years? How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, I don't think," he ponders as if he's having second thoughts on answering my question further. "All I know is that I woke up in a pool of blood, next to my parents," he lowers his voice and inches closer, "I was found with a knife in my hand, and I was charged with murder. Some folks convinced the judge that I was criminally insane, so I was sent here. Been here ever since, spending my life.....alone," he whispers the last word.