He Suffers

Day 11 (Seclusion Day 3)- Carnival

Arthur slowly opened his eyes and found himself in an unfamiliar bed. He looked down at the hospital gown he was wearing. His wrists were bandaged and connected to some IV tubes. A heart monitor steadily beeped next to him. The sunlight streaming through the window to his left hurt his eyes, making him squint and look away.

He had a pounding migraine and his vision was blurry. He could barely make out the silhouette of a woman entering the room.

"You're finally awake. You were unconscious for a week," the lady mentioned. "My name's Loretta. I'm with the Gotham Child Welfare Division."

Arthur felt nervous about being in a place that was foreign to him. He had no idea how he ended up there, or why.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"This is Gotham General."

"Where is she?" he asked.

"You mean your mother? She's not here."

"Can I see her?"

"I'm afraid not. But don't worry; she's going to get taken care of for a while, in a different hospital." Her statement confused him. "Do you remember anything that happened?" she asked. "You were injured pretty badly."

"No. My head hurts. Why does it hurt so much?"

"You were hit on the head very hard. But we caught the man who did this to you, and he's going to be in jail for a very long time."

At the moment, Arthur couldn't remember a single thing. He couldn't even remotely recall what his perpetrator looked like. All he knew was that he was in excruciating pain. His head relentlessly throbbed, and the skin on his back stung from the burns. And he was all alone.

An overwhelming sensation overcame him for the first time. His whole body convulsed as he burst into a wild fit of laughter. He didn't know why it was happening, but it felt like some sort of release. The beeps from the heart monitor sped up.

"Arthur? Is there a reason why you're laughing right now?" the social worker asked.

He couldn't respond. The laughter grew so strong that his breath caught in his throat. He coughed violently.

"I'll be right back," Loretta told him. She got up and walked into an office right across from his room.

After calming down, Arthur peeked across the hall and saw her speaking with three other doctors. She was shrugging her arms and shaking her head in a state of utter confusion. She came back a few minutes later.

"The doctors are giving you some pills," the woman explained. "Normally, a parent or guardian would have to be here to approve these for you, but..." she trailed off, leaving her statement unfinished.

She handed Arthur two bottles of antipsychotics. "Take one of each in the morning every day." She also handed him a bottle of aspirin. "Take this one as well to help with your pain. You'll be staying here for a few more days to recover, and then we're going to put you in foster care."

"What's foster care?"

___________________________________

Ten months passed since Arthur's injury. Arthur currently sat at the back of a bus, riding to school with other students.

He felt isolated from the other adolescents in front of him. They didn't have to live in foster homes with strangers like he did, because they had actual families to go home to. This was something they constantly teased him for.

School continued to be a tough challenge for Arthur. No one treated him better just because of his situation. If anything, it was like the other kids found something new to tease him about.