Source Of Sorrow [BoyXBoy]

.:3:.

"I'm glad you have decided to take the opportunity." Dr Jardine flashed me a warm smile. All I did was simply nod in response. My mum engulfed me in a homely hug, one last time, and placed a kiss on my burning cheek, reminding about staying safe and telling me that she loves me. Then, she hopped into our car and drove away with a small wave of her hand.

I had said 'goodbye' to Jasmine and dad earlier, as they were both occupied with everyday activities and mum was the only one who had enough spare time to take me here. I knew that I would miss them a lot, but this was only temporary. As soon as I helped that guy, which I was confident that I would succeed in, I would be straight out of there.

Dr Jardine led me towards the huge building called Clearwater Low Security Mental Institution, which would be my home for the next few... Days? Weeks? Months? It was difficult to estimate, but I hoped it would not be too long. The woman ran some sort of card through a scanner and the front entrance opened up, as both of us stepped in.

From what I could vaguely remember, the building had three floors. The top floor was for patients whose cases were not too life-threatening, under supervision: it was mainly anorexia, dissociative disorders, anxiety, substance abuse and sleep and wake disorders. With the right medication and help, most of those people could lead normal lives.

The first floor was for the more serious illnesses. I couldn't exactly remember what they were, but I assumed that they were things like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and personality disorders. In other words, people with severe versions of these illnesses could be a danger however, if treated correctly, they could be cured.

And, finally, the ground floor. Suicide watch. It made sense to have it at the bottom, so that there was no chance for patients to somehow open a window and fall to their death. On purpose, or by accident. And, apparently, this was where I would be staying.

I followed Dr Jardine down a hallway, through – what looked like – a cafeteria, but was empty, down some more hallways, until we reached an open door. We entered the room and I was met with a familiar sight. Grey walls (ugh, I hated that colour), a single window, which was too high to even look out of it, and a plain mattress. Except that, the room was bare.

With raised eyebrows, I turned to the woman who accompanied me.

"I'm sorry, this was the best we could do on short notice. We didn't expect you to make your decision so quickly. This was the only free room on this floor and, as you already know, it's focused on suicide watch, so the rooms have to be bare to prevent anything from happening," she explained, with a genuine apologetic expression.

"Can't I get a room on one of the higher floors, then?"

"If you did, you wouldn't be able to see Alex as often."

Ah, so Alex was the boy's name. I wondered if Alex was short for Alexander, or if it was just Alex.

"Tell me about him."

I already knew one thing about Alex: he was on the ground floor meaning that he was most likely suicidal, or was just a danger to others or himself. I wondered if he was dangerous or not...

"Alex...well, he's quite the strange boy. He's 17, like you, but a few months older. His full name is Alexander William Gaskarth. He's quite childish; in a way that he doesn't take things as seriously as he should."

"And why is he on this floor of the institution?"

"He has attempted suicide six times," she informed and my eyes went wide.

Six times? How could someone reach that low point six times, in 17 years? I knew what it felt like and that was why I had been on my medication for a few years now. It was a feeling of dread, as if nothing would ever be fine again. Almost like bullying! Fucking Dementors...

"Do you remember what I told you last week – on the day we met?"

"You told me many things," I retorted sassily.

"But I'm referring to one thing in particular. I told you that Alex has the same disorder as you; he's bipolar. But his case is a lot worse. Do you remember the episodes you had, before you started taking your medication?"

I shuddered at the memories, they were terrifying. With bipolar disorder, there were two types of attacks that you could have. One which left you without a care in the world, feeling like you're on cloud 9, even though your world might be falling apart in front of your eyes. And the other, which made you miserable to the point where you might be considering suicide as the only option. Of course, after the episode is over you regret even having those thoughts but, as it is happening, nothing seems to matter except the concept of death and being relieved from the mental pain which is spontaneously thrown at you.

"Yes." I nodded my head, slightly more sulkily than before.

"Well, Alex refuses to take his pills. He believes that they will have a bad impact on him and change him completely, so he likes to put on this fake happy-go-lucky personality and pretend that everything is fine, even though it is not. One moment he would be skipping through a field of daisies, singing songs about unicorns; and the next he would be hysterically sobbing on the floor and screaming whenever anyone as much as looked at him. Also, as well as suffering from bipolar disorder, Alex has schizophrenia. These two things combined can cause major issues. Imagine feeling like the walls are about to cave in on you, but not only feeling it but also seeing it – with your own eyes, or rather mind."

I had never expected our conversation to turn out like this. All I wanted in the first place was some basic information on Alex, like his name and age, not his fucking life story! This was alright though. He seemed like an interesting person.

"So, do you want to meet him?" Dr Jardine beamed in a high-pitched squeal.

"Um... Sure?" It sounded more like a question rather than an answer, but the female still grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the door, closing it behind us as we left my new room.