death || rsl

21

The dinning room was a big place with five long tables for the patients to sit and eat. There was a buffet that looked like a cafeteria and there were nurses filling the patient's plates. This was the only room in the whole house with big windows. I thanked the nurse that gave me a bright red tray that contained a plate filled with macaroni and cheese, which seemed pretty edible, a salad and there was a little plate with a piece of pie I knew I wasn't going to eat.

The tables that were closer to the windows seemed to be the most popular ones, since a big amount of patients were sat there. Many of them were also arguing over specific seats. I decided to sit on a table far away from the windows, since I didn't want to get into a fight with someone just because I sat on someone else's seat, and took a plastic glass filled with iced tea.

"You'd probably wanna go grab some sugar. That tea isn't sweet at all, and it's just disgusting."

A brunette girl with big brown eyes stood in front of me looking intensely at the glass in my hand. I noticed her nose was full of freckles.

"Oh, um... thanks, but I don't really put sugar on my iced tea." I explained and she frowned.

"Then you must be from Florida. I don't understand why they keep pretending they are from the north. You live souther than Mississippi, and we know iced tea needs sugar."

I struggled a bit trying to get what she said through her accent, but I smiled and turned around to go to the table I've chosen before. But now there were two more people sat there; the girl who saw me— and loudly shut her room's door afterwards, seeming to be afraid— get out of my room early this morning, and Ronnie. I doubted for a bit and wondered if it would be a better idea to sit somewhere else, but then Ronnie shot me a daring look. I imagined it would be better to go on with my plan.

Ronnie expected me to go somewhere else, and I didn't want her to think she scared me. I was a bit surprised by the fact that she was sitting with the hyperactive girl. Ronnie didn't seem like the kind of people that would enjoy the company of a nervous person and full of fear. At least that's what the girl I saw earlier today seemed to be like.

"You're not thinking about sitting with those two, right?" Mississippi girl asked me.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

She let out a small laugh. "Because Ronnie is mental, that's why."

"Um, thank you, but I've already met Ronnie and she doesn't seem that bad." The brunette just stared at me, cautiously studying me.

"You aren't schizophrenic, are you? Because I need to know. I don't feel confortable around schizophrenic people." I looked over at Ronnie and wondered if that's what she was. Did she suffer from schizophrenia?

I shook my head. "No, I have a post traumatic stress disorder."

She smiled. "Ah, well, I can deal with that. People with your disorder are easy to deal with. I'm bipolar. Mom brought me here because I tried to kill myself."

Her words froze me. I just looked at her, wondering how someone who seemed to be a simple innocent girl could possibly want to end her life.

"Why?" I heard myself ask.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes I feel so sad, doing it sounds good." She said those words with so much seriousness, I felt myself shake a bit. I've never realised there were so many people my age that seemed to be normal, but were actually dealing with so much more. I left my tray on the table, sitting next to the brunette I saw this morning.