Melancholy

Chapter 1

 It was like reliving hell over and over, even though I don't know what it really feels like to burn in the flames. I spend my whole day in a cage with my knees tucked under me until the meal arrives. There isn't even a boring book around without which I feel like I'm going crazy. My dreams hang blurred, hanging from the flag of my life. My soul is battered and weary watching the events that are the same every day. 

"Jassia Willows!" - shouts a familiar voice, then I realize that this is the woman who used to bring the food and I raise my head. He opens the barred door and brings in the tray, on which a plate of fresh rice and meat smells, then saliva flows in my mouth. The woman acknowledges with a smile that she is done here and continues with her small sliding table.In the afternoon, a psychotherapist comes to see me again, who thinks I suffer from some kind of behavioral disorder and constantly bombards me with more and more boring questions that make no sense. My peers didn't do so well, always says the nurse, who is constantly watching us to see if we are harming ourselves. Anyway, I'd rather live in my own little world than be aware of what I call my home in the physical world. 

" Jassia. Please say a few words about what the word "loneliness" means to you. After that, we will carefully unfold the details and discuss how you differ from other people, which thoughts need recreation." - answers the psycho rat, who is, by the way, the coldest person I've ever met. Maybe not all psychologists are this cold and rigid, but he was exactly what I saw all people to be. Due to the suffocating atmosphere of the therapy, I could hardly concentrate. Such people, not only would they do something to us, but they would rather take a piece of our soul every time. I never understood how I deserved this kind of suffering.The same chill ran through me that day when I had to go to my companions and eat my dinner there. The nurses and workers kept an eye on us so that we wouldn't clash with each other. There have been cases that I think were justified, but this is overkill. Then the dining room door opened and an unknown figure entered. His dark gaze gave away nothing, but somehow his presence was so comforting that I felt a strange urge to run away. I was about to stand up when he walked up to me. He carefully put his hand on my shoulder and pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. The sisters seemed calm, it seems that they knew about the appearance of the groundhog, or they were just blind. The figure slowly took off the hat on his head, which looked quite elegant on it, and then two searching blue eyes appeared. His hair reminded me of black coffee. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, then he held out one hand. Of course, I looked in disbelief with my confused mind as to what exactly he now expects from me, who is one of the priority patients of the mental hospital. I've never shaken hands with anyone and I'm not going to start now. As soon as he saw that his attempt was useless, he withdrew his huge palm. Your skin must be soft and silky. Come on! Why do I think such things? I'm screwed, rightfully so.After dinner, everyone was led to their own quarters, when I opened the door to my own room/apartment, I was shocked to see that it was not empty. The figure who sat next to me at dinner was grinning while sitting on one of the chairs at my table. When I closed the door behind me, he looked up and hung his hat on the back of the chair with a relaxed movement. 

"Good evening, Miss Jassia!" - he greeted in a really friendly tone, but his voice was so deep and pleasant, I thought I would melt on the spot. But I braced myself and instead sat down on the other chair, facing him."What are you doing here?" - I started, and he just giggled, then looked me seriously in the eyes.

"I'd rather ask you that." - he answered, and it seemed like a lightning strike. Actually, I kept repeating this question to myself. Somehow my brain completely turned off from that one sentence."Please don't be scared, I just wanted to talk to you." Or maybe I could? It is inconvenient to communicate directly in such an official manner. I nodded, and he flashed a half-hearted smile.