Welcome to the Crazy House

Year 2012: New home

Someone in the white house remembered I had birthday on 1st of January and they organized a little party for Rita, nurses, some other patients and me. They even got me a lovely (white) cake. I was very pleased with it. It was my 21st birthday. Although I missed my friends, I felt good. I was happy. It felt like home. It was my new home now. I almost forgot about the messy apartment I had lived in. Yes, I didn't miss it. What I did miss was wine. Oh wine. My one and only ljubov.

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At the beginning of March, Rita said I would soon be ready to go back home. And by home she meant my maman's house. But I made a tiny little mistake soon after that "announcement". I had stolen scissors from Rita's desk, attacked a nurse and stole pills from her pocket. Doctors, including Rita, were very mad at me and they said I behaved badly and after a long time I again got injected that thing that made me numb. But I still managed to eat a few pills. They calmed me down but they also woke the wish for drugs again. After my body and mind were shaking I realized I made a mistake. Rita said I wouldn't return home, as I was not cured. In the beginning I was very sad, but then I met a brown-eyed boy with one of those typical English names. I am not sure which one; it was either Henry or Harry. We met in a place doctors call living room for patients. He was a quiet boy and I liked to talk, so I talked a lot and he listened a lot. He told me he was here because his soul was in pain. He also said he doesn't know how to read, so the next day I asked Rita if I could get a book to read it to him. She said yes. 

On a quite warm March morning, Henry and I sat on a bench in the hospital's garden. I was there a few times before but it was Harry's first time outside. I could see excitement in his eyes and I was really happy for him. For the first time in a year, I forgot about my own self, my problems and my addictions and just enjoyed the happiness in someone else's eyes. I started reading the book Rita gave me. My reading was not the best, and Russian accent didn't help either, but Henry enjoyed my effort. After that day we spent most of our free time together. We were sometimes even allowed to chat in each other's rooms. His room was cozier than mine. He had a lot of pictures and letters on the walls and the room didn't look so white. I decided to do the same. My white sadness soon turned into a colourful, almost a little bit childish, play room. I asked Rita for posters of famous people and she gave me one with Marilyn Monroe on it and one with Eiffel tower painted on it by a modern artist. She said it was made with computer. I was confused but didn't want to think too much about it so I just admired it.

Harry liked my newly decorated room and we spent a lot of evenings in it. He liked my bed and I liked his company. He sometimes asked strange questions that amused me.

"Do you believe in unicorns?"

"What is a unicorn," I asked, as it was the first time I heard that word. He didn't know how to explain it to me, so the next day he looked into English-Russian dictionary and translated it as edinorog. That was the time I decided I wanted to be a unicorn. But both Rita and Henry said that wasn't possible. I didn't believe them. From then on, I was a unicorn in my dreams. And outside that dream ... I was a friend of Harry. We talked a lot and he didn't seem to be bothered by the fact I didn't speak about my personal life. Rita, on the other hand, was angrier about it. She didn't have a lot of patience towards my actions in year 2012. One day, when I thought I had free time, Henry and I sat in my room and something strange happened. My buddy got hard as I was looking at him. I was really surprised. The rest of the actions, I will leave to the imagination of you, the reader. The next thing I remember was Rita entering the room and pulled Harry away from my mouth. She called nurses and they took him away. I haven't seen him ever since. And it was all my fault. I forgot I had to talk to Rita that morning. She immediately took me to her office.