piano man; d.h [discontinued]

downstairs

It was nearly 5 o'clock. I'd been following Ruthie and Phil around for most of the day, only leaving their sides when they went to get lunch while I explored a bit. The place was huge. It stretched on for what seemed like miles and each hallway was a labyrinth of twists and turns that made no sense and went in separate directions, sometimes to doors that went nowhere.

Ruthie told me it would be okay if I simply walked down the halls in sector 3. Even though they were the more long-term patients with anger problems, she said their doors were usually locked unless they were stable enough to keep it open. It wasn't all that bad, honestly. I got a few stares from some weary patients but nothing violent.

I felt hungry. I had forgotten to eat lunch while Ruthie was with Phil and it was nearly dinner time anyway. Ruthie said that for dinner, almost all of the sector 1 and 2 patients ate together in a larger room, which meant better food, as far as I was concerned. The food here wasn't the best and the delivery trucks only came once a week, I was told. I was sitting in the nurses' lounge, not taking out my phone in case I heard high heel clicks. I didn't want to get caught on my first day of work.

Ruthie came into the room, snatching a pen and paper, motioning for me to join her outside the lounge. "Phil's waiting outside," she said. I followed her out of the room where I was greeted by the tall man, who looked down on me with sadden eyes. I smiles up at him, hoping for a response but I received nothing. "It's dinner time, but me and Phil are going to sit in the corner and draw on the napkins. You can join us if you like?" her wide smile was complimentary to her straight, blonde locks that fell on her back. I smiled back at her.

"Sure, I'd love to." With that, she lead us into the larger room, where tens of patients and their nurses were already sat, having their meals. It appeared to be a gym that had been set up with tables and chairs for dining. There were kitchen staff running around like the madmen who lived here, scrambling to get food on plates and out onto the tables. Ruthie pulled me and Phil aside to sit us on the ground while she went to go get food.

"Can you look after Phil for like, five minutes while I go get you both something to eat?" As she asked this, I look over at Phil, who simply glanced over at me, his eyes looking sadder and sadder. I couldn't help but feel bad for him.

"Sure," I said with a cheerful expression on my face. As Ruthie nodded and went back over to the kitchen, I peeked my head around to face Phil. "So," I started, not knowing if this would work, "how are you?"

"I'm okay." He speaks. I was shocked. He hadn't spoken all day, not to me anyway.

"Really? Tell me about it. What's going on in your head?" I pushed further. I didn't want to hit a nerve or anything but I wanted to know why he was so sad. He seemed sadder than this morning.

"I just," he began, before cutting off his own sentence, "I miss my best friend. Seeing you reminded me of him. That's all." I felt so bad for him.

"I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't mean to."

"I know. It's okay." His words were slow, but calm. "They took him away a long time ago, but I still think about it sometimes."

"What happened? Why was he taken away?" I was pushing my luck at this point. I was worried if I pushed any harder, I'd strike a raw nerve.

"He came here from somewhere else, though he never really mentioned where. But one day someone called him something mean... the details aren't all there for me," he stumbled on his own words, trying to force them out, almost giving him a stutter as he tried anxiously to get his thoughts out. "He was taken downstairs because they thought he was unstable. I never thought so. He was always so nice to me. But I couldn't do much about it. So I haven't seen him since." My eyes were staring off into space as he spoke. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him in his situation.

"Do you know where he is now?" I tired my hardest not to be a bother, but I really wanted to know.

"As far as I know, he's still downstairs. But I haven't heard anything about him in mon-" he was cut off by Ruthie re-entering with food.

"I'm back. Phil, are you doing alright?" He looked up at her with his blazing blue eyes and mumbled a "yes". Ruthie sat down next to him and handed him a plate, stacked with slimey meat and overcooked asparagus.

As Ruthie got back up to take our dishes back to the kitchen for washing, I reached back over towards Phil. "Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?" he mumbled, almost inaudible.

"What was your best friend's name?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dan."

-unedited