MADNESS

4. Family

SYDNEY WILSON

"Well, well, well. We meet again." Noah says as soon as he makes eye contact.

What a way to start my day.

"You're just so careful, aren't you?" I fire back with sarcasm because he looks like he understands it. Some patients here don't take sarcasm well, which sucks since that's my type of humor.

"Always." He grins.

Of course he would say that.

I sit down in front of him, with the empty marble table between us and slightly uncomfortable tension. I put my hands in my lap and start the conversation.

"How have your first few days here been?" I ask. It's pretty hard to adapt to the lifestyle here as a patient. Or even as a worker, it took me months to get used to it.

"Luxurious." He answers. "Do I seriously have only one soap for the whole month?" And starts complaining.

It's a bit barbarian to not give the patients more soap if they need it, but that's just the rules Joseph set up. Joseph Anderson, the owner of the asylum, also our employer, is the one who actually controls everything around here. He makes the rules, he gives out the salaries, he fires and employs people, but he's not the kindest man you'd want to bump in. He's cocky, ignorant and quite mean to us and the patients. I certainly don't like him that much, but I don't despise him, he's the one that hands me my money to make myself a living.

With my parents getting old and still living in mine and Luke's house, we're both saving up to hire a full time nurse to take care of them and also move out. I had an apartment, but I moved back into the house to be able to help my parents. Luke's still in med school and he's planning to move out as soon as he graduates. Hopefully, it all goes well.

"Yes." I nod. "I'm sorry about that, there's nothing I can do." I say. It bothers me almost as much as it bothers him.

"You can sneak me one." He proposes.

"Noah, I can't give you extra soap, it would put my job in danger." I shake my head.

"What, a fucking soap?" He raises a brow.

"Yes, a fucking soap. This place is very strict."

"I've noticed." He forms a line with his lips in disappointment.

I wish I could've helped with this type of problems that patients often encounter, but given the fact that my boss is not a nice person, I'm scared I won't be working here any longer and this is the only mental hospital in the whole city. They're starting to close them up one by one because most of them are as problematic as this one.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I change the subject.

"Not in particular, no."

It's so hard to talk to this guy. He doesn't want to play cards, doesn't want to learn either, he has an arrogant attitude or could be a little nice sometimes, it's annoyingly contradictory. He doesn't want to talk about anything, he just talks because I do so what should I even say to him?

"What would you think of talking about your family?" I initiate a subject.

A sensitive subject for most.

He told me not to sugarcoat him so I won't.

"I think you should start." He says.

Hm.

"Okay." I pause to take a sip of water from the cup that's on the table. "My father died of lung cancer when I was little, about 8 or 9, then my mom remarried last year. Until that, life was boring. Or not exactly boring, but not exciting." Don't get into details. "She married this guy who also has a son who's now my brother in law. He's okay, makes things better." Don't tell him your situation with your parents. "And I guess that's it. As short as I could make it." I smile.