Our Purpose

Chapter Two

A few minutes later my nurse shows up.

"good morning, Jackson. Sleep well?"

"When am I going home?"

"Hon, you just got here last night and with your reported symptoms, not for a while."

"I am not crazy, you know?"

"no one is saying you are crazy, you just need some help, it seems as though you have detached from reality. Until we can get you on medication that will work, you will have to be here and receive therapy."

"Yeah, whatever, the faster I get out of here the better."

"Well, Mr. Flynn the best way to get out of here fast, is to comply. Now come on, it is time to go meet your therapist."

The nurse strapped me into a wheel chair and rolled me through halls that were painted with trees and other brightly painted scenery. I saw other kids being wheeled to various other destinations. Last night when my mother rushed me to the hospital because of my frantic attempts to explain what I had found, they gave me a general idea of what my days would be like in this horrid place. I would start the day with a session with my therapist, just a quick checkup to make sure I hadn't gone completely insane over night. Then I would go eat breakfast, after breakfast we go to the gym. It has a basketball court on one end and a traditional workout area (treadmills, bicycle machines, etc.) on the other. Then we would do some kind of calming activity, like a craft or something, then lunch, after lunch we get two hours in our rooms to write or chat with the kid that shares a room with you or nap, pretty much whatever, as long as you aren't causing trouble. After that we have a longer therapy session, about an hour long, sometimes a bit longer, then we eat dinner, watch a movie, and have group therapy for an hour before lights out at 9:00pm.

I was so lost in thought that before I knew it, I was sitting in front of my therapist. She is tall with square black-framed glasses. Very thin with long dark brown hair. She gives off a very Kindergarten teacher vibe. The first thing we did was sit on the carpet. There she had laid out crayons, markers, and other things that could not be used to harm either one of us.

"Good morning..um" She flipped through some papers, "Jackson! Jackson Flynn, nice to meet you, my name is Sarah. Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions?"

"Yeah, I guess." I said flatly.

"Alright, to your knowledge, why are you here?"

"I found answers to some questions, big questions. Upon trying to explain what I found, people began to think I was crazy. I'm not crazy."

"Well, Jackson, no one i-"

"YES. Yes you are calling me crazy. You wouldn't keep me here with a bunch of depressed, anxious, schizophrenic, and bipolar kids if you didn't truly believe I was crazy."

"Okay, you can believe this, but just know the longer that you chose to deny the fact you have a serious problem, the longer you will be here. You may even end up in a residential treatment facility."

"No. No way. I'm not staying that long. I'd rather... never mind. Just, I'll tell you whatever you want to hear, if it'll get me out of here."

"I would like to explain the way that I understand your reason for being here."

"Okay, explain away."

"I was told by the nurses in the E.R. that you were showing signs of schizophrenia and detachment from reality. You were sent here to be monitored and to find the right medication for you. This, while it may be a big adjustment and a bit uncomfortable, is the best way for you to get back to living your once normal life. I don't want to scare you, but a person with such mental complications as you, will need, on average more than two months here."

"I DON'T HAVE ANY MENTAL COMPLICATIONS. I am only here because no one believes what I have to say. It is very far fetched, I know, but I need someone to hear me out. I'm only trying to help. What I have found will help science and philosophy and just the world in general. It could help stop the next Hitler or advance us in technology thousands of years forward. But if no one is willing to listen, then.. I don't know, but it will not be particularly beneficial."

A knock on the door.

"Come in."

It was my nurse again.

"Jackson, it's time for breakfast, but you will have more time with your therapist later."