I'm not crazy (Scomiche)

Chapter 7

     I woke up slowly. My brain was running laps around my barely awake body. Eventually my eyelids, that seemed to be made of metal, opened. I sat up and looked around. Nobody, the lights were still on in the bathroom. What time is it? I looked over at my iPod. 5:63 a.m. Fuck. It's not even daybreak yet. Well, can't go back to sleep now, damage is done. I'm already awake. I crawled back under my covers anyways. I have about an hour before breakfast. This is going to be a long day. I groaned audibly.

     When doctor Hoying walked in an hour later, I was starfishing, facedown on my twin sized bed. I wasn't aware of his presence until he chuckled at me. I looked up at him with sceptical eyes. He looked down, shook his head all while still chuckling. "Good morning. Ready for breakfast Mitchie?" 

    No. "Don't call me that. My name is Mitch. And yes, I am starving!" I said the last part a bit over dramatically. 

     "Alright, let's go then... Mitchie." I close my eyes and take in a steady breath to calm my annoyance. A smirk plays at my lips as a thought comes to mind. Oh, two can play at this game buddy.

     I stood up and walked over to him. I stared him right in his eyes. I was going to wipe that cocky grin off of his face. "Alright then, Scott, let's go." His face went dead flat of all emotions aside from bewilderment. He followed me out after a second. Mission accomplished. 

     By now, not having guards walk me to my 'lunch room' was almost normal. I let my fingers graze the perfect, off-white walls. God, they are so infuriating. I noticed that my blue-eyed doctor was walking unusually close this time around. "Hey, Hoying, I wouldn't dare try to run out today. I don't feel in the mood to be tackled to the ground and put in restraints with needles in my arms. So, if you could back up a step or so... that'd be great. Besides, you could outrun me. You said so yourself," I said as we finally reached the door of my 'lunch room'. I plopped down in my metal chair rather ungracefully. Doctor Hoying hesitantly pulled out the other chair. 

     I studied him for a second before taking a big bite of my cardboard flavoured toast. "Out with it." I put a hand over my mouth as I spoke. He looked shocked and I cut him off before he was going to deny that he had something to say. "I can see it in your posture, you do have something to say. Don't deny it. You're probably worried about setting me off or something. Just... choose your words carefully. That's all. Now, out with it."

     I could see his internal conflict. He was biting hard on his cheek. He let out an exasperated sigh, letting me know that I had persuaded his decision. "After the, uh, conversation last night," he started, "I stared thinking about- what all went down. I came to the conclusion that... the thing that you keep dreaming about is really bothering you." What was your first clue, genius? He continued after a brief pause. "I told you last night that I'm here to help you anytime. The problem with that is that I'm not always in your room with you. I figured out a way to let you be able to talk to me anytime you need." He reached into a bag he had strapped around his shoulder, pulling out a small, black device. "Here," he said as he handed it to me from across the metal table. "It is a walkie-talkie. Now you can contact me whenever you feel the need to talk, or you feel like you're going to have an episode or anything."

     I was turning the object around in my hand. There was 'doctor Hoying' scribbled across the bottom. There is an inspection every once in a while to make sure I didn't steal something to harm myself or others with. His signature was no doubt, to make sure I didn't get in trouble for stealing an object that was given to me. I finally dared to look up into his bright blue eyes. "Thank you." 

     When I was done, I was escorted back to my room and left alone. The last few days had been very chaotic compared to the usual boredom of 'all saints mental institution'. I wasn't quite sure that I like that or not. The rush of getting a new doctor, the sadness of losing an old one. The confusing conflict between how much he actually cared about me. It seemed he did by his actions, but his words would deny any and all possibility, he didn't trust me, nor did he care about me. I had to remember that. 

     I curled into my corner, music on full blast in my ears. For some reason, I had the walkie- talking clutched hard in my hand. My fingers tracing over his signature. I couldn't make out the reasoning behind this action, my thoughts were all jumbled and unclear. I threw the object onto my small bed with a substantial amount of force, causing it to bounce multiple times. I couldn't explain why I had done that either. I needed a shower, I needed to clear my thoughts and feel the warm water rinsing away my stress. I popped up and out of my corner, and ran into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. It loud pitter patter of the water hitting the ground was oddly soothing. I stood there for a London while before deciding that I should actually get clean. I ran my fingers through my knotty hair, lathering in the sweet smelling shampoo. I then scrubbed off all of the sweat from days of build up. I couldn't tell you how overdue this shower was. 

     When I turned off the water, I hopped out of the tub and immediately wanted to just curl in a ball to stay warm. I looked around my bathroom. There were no fresh, clean clothes and I left my towel on my bed. I shrugged and opened the door, desperate for something to trap the heat in. When I opened the door, I let out a small scream before closing it as quickly as humanly possible. Why on earth was Hoying out there?! He was laying on my bed, arms over his eyes, so I don't think he saw anything. "Mitch, you okay? What's wrong?"

     "Can you grab me some pants? Top drawer ... please." I heard him walk away and my drawer opened and closed before he came back. There were a few taps on the door before I opened it a crack and shoved my hand through. He placed the clothes into my hand and I quickly brought them inside and pulled them on. I walked out, top half bare still. A trail of steam coming off of my body. My arms instinctively crossed over my chest, both for warmth and from anger. "Why the fuck are you here?!"