I Want To Paint Your Lips

Chapter 1

Wearing a strait jacket did not seem comfortable. The way the thin man was curled over on the old plastic chair - bolted to the ground for safety - with his arms pinned across his ribs. Especially with a level three jacket.

Only the really out of control patients earnt those ones. The material was thick and heavy, and buckles strapped his arms together, to his chest. The ends of his sleeves were sewed shut and buckled down his back with two heavy buckles. The jacket itself was skin-tight around his shoulders, hips and waist and gave no wiggle-room. To top it off, he had a belt-style collar tightened around his neck, looped with a metre length of chain connecting him to the concrete wall behind him.

Evan watched him carefully, his legs swinging and scuffing against the concrete floor, with his face downcast. His body swayed back and forth, rattling the chain to fill the silent room.

It was a habit of his, to make sure that there was always something to tickle his eardrums, if not speech. He liked a distraction. Even with the medication, his schizophrenia still lingered at the corners of his mind, tugging and nagging for him to listen.

"How are you feeling today, Delirious?" Evan asked, calm eyes watching the man sitting in front of him. He sat with a clipboard on the table in front of him, screwing the caps of the medication bottles back on as the patient, Jonathon – known infamously as Delirious – adjusted to the pills and gained composure and a sense of time and place.

The schizophrenic stretched his neck up, rolling his head and cracking the bones at the top of his spine, the sound mingling with the singing chains. Dark, big blue eyes looked up with dilated eyes.

He always complained with a bright room. He preferred dim lighting.

“Good morning, Evan,” he drawled, his voice full and rounded, thick with an odd tone to it. Most people who interacted with him had labelled it as creepy, something that would make them shiver and feel uncomfortable. Evan couldn’t deny the edge he spoke with. A screw or two were loose in there. “Lovely to have you drop by, I really can’t say how much I love our little talks,” he said. His eyes fixed onto Evan, studying his face, his expression, his posture. He loved to dawdle, Delirious, he loved to avoid questions and try draw out conversations as much as possible. He loved the company.

Surprisingly unlike others, Evan didn’t mind the talks either. Although on the more psychotic side of things, Delirious wasn’t unenjoyable to chat with, sometimes he could even be nice to share a conversation.

But he definitely liked avoiding questions.

“How are you feeling?” Evan repeated, in the same voice, earning a huff from Delirious from being dismissed.

“Fine,” he muttered. His lips pinched together, but his eyes still glinted menacingly.

He was very specifically known for his makeup, and he did not take well to having to washed off or removed. It helped calm him, in ways, and let the voices bickering in his mind tone down. He wore the makeup of a simple clown – big white circles over the eyes, outlined with green and red, with a green vertical strike down through his eyebrow and eye. An over exaggerated white grin was painted up to his cheekbones, with a smaller, more defined, bright red smile drawn over his lips, a circle at each end.

Evan had learnt to put on the makeup decently well over time, having done it to help the man calm down and distract him several times and even done it on himself to entertain the man when they had activity time.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, slightly softening his tone to calm the patient’s disgruntled attitude. It faded slightly as the man bore a childish grin and wriggled in his jacket for emphasis.

“Stiff,” he said with a little giggle, blinking his big eyes. He definitely knew how to play the innocent kid, an odd look for a twenty-eight year old. “Can you undo my straps a little bit today Evan?” His voice rose a tad, chirpy and kid-like as he beamed up at the man across the table. He pushed his legs beneath him, half way into standing before the chain yanked him back down.

Evan shook his head tightly, expression still flat but soft. “You know I’m not allowed to do that, don’t you Delirious?” he spoke clearly and the crazed laugh bounced around the room loudly. His eyes squeezed shut and he bore his teeth in a grin.

“Of course I do, you say so all the time!” he cackled, his words hilarious to himself only.

Evan allowed a small smile, waiting patiently as the man calmed his giggling, his breaths coming out in little squeaks. The man rearranged himself as he grinned to himself, folding his legs under him on the chair to sit a bit higher and beam like a child showing off an award. “I’ll take you to the bathroom tomorrow evening and you can have a shower, but only if you behave for today and tomorrow, okay?” A quick nod, the grin didn’t shit. Evan stood. “Are you hungry at all now, Delirious, or would you rather just wait and have dinner when I come back at seven?” he asked, glancing at his digital watch. Three hours until then.

“I can wait,” he said, slouching back into his chair and kicking his feet out from under him again. Evan gathered the contents of the table and tucked the bottles away into the little bag, sliding in the clipboard, empty of any important information. “Goodbye Evan,” he crowed as the man stood.

“See you tonight.”