Mentally Disturbed

Chapter Two

I don't offer a hand to help her up because I'm frozen. I don't know how to act or what to think or what to say. I am so rude I swear. She finally stands up and I can notice the wobbling in her legs. Maybe I should have offered a hand.

"I'm Annabelle." She says while holding her hand out.

I ignore the offering and glare at her blue eyes. She's a lot shorter than me, but maybe I'm just abnormally tall. I'm probably six feet. She has pale skin and she's fairly thin. Her hair is blonde and goes far pass her shoulders in waves. She looks tired.

"Do you talk?" She asks with an innocent curious face. She seems a bit ditzy to be honest.

I clear my throat.

"I'm Arnold." I fold my arms across my chest. I look so cocky.

"Nice to meet you! Is this your first day? I haven't seen you around here before." She says with a sweet smile across her face. I tell myself it's fake but I can't make myself truly believe it.

I nod. "How long have you been here?" I ask.

"9 days. They told me a week, but what they say are lies. You can't trust anyone."

They told me a week too. Are they also lying to me? They said 'if there's improvement' though, maybe she just hasn't improved.

"Why are you here?" I ask. I hope I'm not invading any privacy of hers but I kind of don't care if I am. That's what my mind does, it makes me selfish.

"I'm here for a diet." And just like that, she walks pass me and turns a corner. Gone.

Who comes here for a diet? She's clearly crazy.

*

I find my room and lock myself inside. What the heck am I supposed to do here? Am I allowed outside the hospital? What if I want McDonald's or Starbucks? What if they serve crap food like the ones back at school? I think about all the homework I must have, all the assignments I haven't turned in and the upcoming tests that I'll be missing this week. I'm slacking enough to begin with, and being absent for a week is just going to make things worse. What are these doctors thinking. How could this possibly make things better. It looks bad on my record too.

I open my curtains and find a balcony. I try to open the door to it, but it's locked. Not a surprise, what if a patient jumps off. I don't think the hospital would like to be held responsible for that. I jump on my bed and hear the springs bounce. My feet hangs over the end of the bed. I stare at the ceiling.

The ceiling is a comforting stone to look at when I'm alone.

I'm standing on a ledge of The Aloha Tower. I look around and the sky is painted cotton candy with baby blues and pinks. I see the ocean and a barricade of rocks far away. Beyond that, I'm not sure what could be. No one swims in this area, there's no sand. It's just water off the cliff. I look down and see the pavement.
What would it be like to hit the ground? Probably messy.
Tears start to fall down my cheeks and I say the same words,
"I am Arnold Henry and I am the sacrifice to your selfish needs."

Then I let go of the rail and fall.

I jolt awake. I must have fallen asleep because my shoes are still on while I lay on this hospital bed. The air conditioner is making the room way too cold, so I get up to adjust the heat. I look to the digital clock on my bed table, 4:68 pm. I'm starving. I haven't even ate lunch yet.

I leave my room and find people in the hallway lining up. Are all of these people crazy? I spot Annabelle at the end of the line. I walk towards her and continue the cue.

"Is this the dinner line?" I ask.

She nods.

"Do you know what we're having?"

She shakes her head, no.

We stand in silence until we reach the beginning, and that's when I see what's being served on the plate. Meat loaf and gravy, a couple of grapes, a piece of bread, and a cup of water. Yum.

I grab my plate and sit  alone on a circle table. This feels like high school, but mostly with old people. Highest-school?

Across from me I can see Annabelle sitting with a bunch of elderly. She's cutting her food and talking a lot. She seems to be enjoying herself, but when I look closely, she doesn't actually put food in her mouth. As in, she cuts up the meat, and holds the fork up to her mouth, but gets distracted by talking, so puts the fork back down and starts cutting her food again. The cycle goes on and on. It looks like she's eating, but she actually isn't. Does she have ADHD? Can she really not focus? The elderly probably doesn't notice.

I eat my meal but only bits. It doesn't even taste good and I feel weird. I drink my cup of water and pick up my plate to leave.

I walk around the place, finding different rooms for different activities. I see a video game room, a library, and a room filled with toys and paint. I see some patients in them. I see a man painting a picture in a small red kids chair. I walk inside and sit down next to him.

He's drawing in complete black. Nothing but aggressive scribbles of black chalk. His face is completely blank, he looks freaking crazy and scary. He turns to me slowly, and stares.

"May I help you, boy?"

I remain silent.

"You're new. You're young. You're fresh."

Fresh?

"I can see right through you. You broken, lost, sheep. I can sense your fear, I can hear your teeth chattering and your heart shattering again and again. That's why you're here, you have a broken heart."

I don't know what the heck he is talking about. I don't have a broken heart, I've never even had a real girlfriend before. I've hooked up with people last summer, but it was simply just one night stands. This man is crazy, and my teeth is not chattering. I clench my jaw, get up, and leave.

I turn into another room with musical instruments and see someone familiar, a blonde haired girl in a pink shirt and white skirt. She's playing the keyboard with headphones on. I tap her shoulder and she startles.

"Hello Arny!"

"Arnold" I reply bluntly.

She pulls my hand to sit with her on the piano bench. She gives me a set of headphones.

"I wrote a song. And it's for you. Just listen close, I'll listen too."

Then she starts playing. And it's not beautiful at all. She's pressing random keys and they don't even make up a chord. I know this because I can play music, and I'm pretty good at it too. But I haven't touched an instrument in what feels like forever. But I can tell she has rhythm. Then after a while, it turns into a real melody. Then I'm astonished.

She plays a delicate high melody, and she's playing real chords. C then G and Am and F's. Basic chords but arranged quite professionally. Then the melody falls low and turns sad and weak. I turn to her face and see her concentrating with her tongue sticking out. Then the melody goes back up to a sad delicacy. Then it ends.

I don't want to fall for her, but that was hot. And all I can think of is what she said, "I wrote a song. And it's for you. Just listen close,  I'll listen too."