Claustrophobic Mind

Chapter 35

"You'll have to put this gown on until a friend or family member brings you clothing to wear," the doctor says to Billie Joe.

Billie looks down at the thin, papery gown that is speckled with navy dots. He frowns at the requirement. His socks were no help to the cold floor of the psychiatric hospital beneath him. The fluorescent lights above him pointed out every flaw on his body. His burns stood out the most. They didn't allow his bandage in the psych ward. He could choke himself with it.

Billie Joe considers the words that left the doctor's mouth. She didn't sound very interested in helping Billie. It seemed forced. Billie felt guilty that he had to be told this at all. He didn't respond.

"You can go in the bathroom and change and then we can give you a tour of the hospital," she said. Her smile was anything but genuine.

Billie looked over at the bathroom door. He thought about nodding, but decided against it. Instead, he shuffled over to the bathroom silently, his strength still severely weakened. He knew he was going to be seeing this bathroom a lot, considering it was in his room.

When Billie stepped into the bathroom, he avoided the mirror. Billie Joe stripped his clothes off and carefully laid them on his bathroom floor. The walls were gray. The tile was worn. His mouth was dry. He wanted water.

The gown went over his thin body easily. Billie Joe wondered how much weight he's lost. His jutting collarbone gave off a slight hint.

Billie felt Fink's presence behind him. He knew he was sitting on the sink, devil tail swinging thoughtfully, but he didn't turn around to look. He didn't have to. Billie Joe knew Fink was there. Fink didn't speak.

Billie Joe turned the bright lights off in the bathroom before he left. He wanted to ensure that he didn't even see Fink in the corner of his eye. Billie was ashamed. He couldn't bare to look at Fink.

When Billie stepped out of the bathroom, he took a second to analyze his room. The walls were white, maybe beige, and the floors were tile. The floors reminded him of the ones in school. His bed was small, too small for another person. The sheets were gray. His pillow case was white. The night stand held a lamp and drawers for Billie Joe to put things in. Billie knew he would never use them. A window across the room covered up almost the whole wall. It showed a view of a silent street. The window didn't open. Billie Joe didn't even have to try to know that. In the back corner of the room was a desk. It was old and used paired up with a creaky fold up chair. It was already night time.

"You ready?" the doctor spoke, breaking the silence of Billie's thoughts.

Billie Joe jumped at the sound of her voice. He looked over at her innocently. Her brown eyes stared back. Billie didn't respond.

"Alrighty," she said, walking over with the wheelchair. This one didn't squeak like the one in the hospital.

Billie sat himself down, still not speaking a word. Fink had left. Billie Joe was thankful.

"Let's start off with where we do our group activities. This is where everyone comes to just hang around. We play fun games and talk amongst others. I think you'll like it," the doctor lied.

Billie Joe looked out into the area. It had tons of places to sit, but nowhere to think. Billie won't like it.

"You're probably wondering where everyone is. They're all in their rooms right now. It's bedtime," the doctor smiled.

Billie didn't respond. Her smile fell.

She wheeled Billie Joe around another corner. The hallways were silent and cold. Billie didn't like it. He wanted to go home. He wanted Mike.

"This is the cafeteria. You'll eat here everyday with all of the friends you will hopefully make. It's a great place to socialize."

Billie thought about rolling his eyes, but he decided that it would be rude.

"Let's keep going," the doctor spoke finally. Billie Joe's silence was something she started to get used to.

They went out of the huge metal doors and down a long hallway. Only few lights were on. Billie liked the dimness. Fink walked behind the doctor, his foots steps unbelievably audible to Billie. He still didn't speak to Billie Joe. Billie Joe didn't speak to him.

The doctor wheeled Billie down to the last door on the left. She let go of the wheelchair to step into the room before Billie and flipped on the light. She then went back to Billie Joe and wheeled him into the room.

There was a small rug laid out on the floor. A bed like couch sat against the wall to the left, and a cushiony leather chair sat in the middle of the room. A wooden desk with paper clips and pens sat to the back of the room facing the door. Comforting pictures of sunsets and ocean fronts scattered the walls. A fake tree sat in the back beside the desk. Billie wriggled his nose.

"This is where you will have your therapy sessions. You'll come in here and be as honest as possible. The therapy will help," the doctor whispered.

Billie Joe wondered if that was another one of her lies. His throat got dryer. He wanted water. He wanted Mike.

"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asked, still standing behind Billie.

Billie didn't respond. She didn't expect him to.

The doctor silently turned off the light and started to wheel Billie Joe back down the long hallway. Fink didn't follow this time. In a way, Billie wanted him to.

After turning more corners and silently strolling down the long, cold hallways, Billie finally made it to his room. It was just as he left it. Lonely and emotionless.

Fink sat on Billie's bed. He didn't grin. He didn't frown. He didn't do anything. He was unreadable. Billie Joe didn't like it.

"Let's get you into bed," the doctor sang. She wheeled Billie over to the bed silently.

Billie Joe stood from the wheelchair carefully. Fink moved so that Billie could lay down in the bed. Billie flopped over onto the wrinkled sheets. He sat on the bed while looking down at his scarred cigarette burns. Billie wriggled his nose.

"I'll be in here tomorrow morning to take you to therapy. Into bed now, you'll be up early," the doctor warned.

Her brown eyes met Billie Joe's once again. She didn't smile this time. She turned off the light, leaving Billie in the darkness.

Fink still lingered as Billie Joe put himself under the scratchy blankets. The bed was hard and the pillow was firm. Billie didn't like it. He missed Mike's comfy guest bedroom.

Fink sat across the room and watched Billie Joe think. Billie thought about telling him to leave, but when has Fink ever listened?

Instead, Billie laid there and let Fink watch him. Billie thought about how much he missed bundling up under so many blankets on Mike's couch and falling asleep. He thought about how much he missed cuddling up with Mike as they slept. He thought about how much he missed Mike's hugs. He thought about how much he missed Mike. Billie Joe wondered how fast these two days would go. He wondered how he would live through them. Billie cried.

His painful tears left marks on the pillows from the wetness. This made his throat dryer. He wanted water. He wanted a lot of things. He wanted to go home. He wanted Mike. He wanted to be sane. All the things he wanted. Billie Joe thought about how long it would take for him to get all the things he wanted in that moment. It made him feel hopeless.

Billie didn't like it.