Asylum

On the hospital of souls

As promised, Thursday update :D

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I didn’t move for three days.

I didn’t eat.

I didn’t sleep.

The doctors wondered what had made me take such a turn for the worse. One day I was demanding food, then the other I was nonresponsive and empty.

Bipolar? They suggested.

Eventually they moved me to the hospital ward.

I was hooked up to probably six or more machines, each of them monitoring my health or keeping me alive in some way. Fluids in one, medicine in another, a heart monitor, nutrition of some sort to keep me functioning… and so on.

To my utter surprise, my hallway buddies visited me every day.

Everyday, one at a time, they’d each come and visit me. It was like a schedule, something to depend on. Annabeth, then Jason, then Percy, then Nico, then Piper, then Leo.

Annabeth would talk to me about life- surprisingly enough, about hers. I guess she figured I had enough of my problems, so she just rambled about things she remembered from her childhood.

Jason would always try and bring some sort of sports activity into the ward, but the nurses would always intercept it. It became something to look forward to- almost. A game of, what would Jason get in trouble for today?

Percy would tell me stories of outlandish adventures, of his obsession with the Greek gods, and his dreamt up adventures. He’d tell me about his fairytale parentage, where his real parents didn’t exist and he was the son of something mighty, something great. Something to look up to.

Nico- oh, he tried to hide how kind he really was, but this was the final straw- he would bring me lunch. Every day. I wouldn’t eat it, but it was sitting there, waiting for me if I wanted it. Like when I had offered food to him when he clearly didn’t want it. Except I wasn’t going to eat it. Whenever he left, he’d always say the same thing. Whenever you’re ready, Jordan.

Piper would do something with my hair every day. I didn’t understand why, but she loved my hair. I had to admit, it did have some sort of magic to it. In my opinion, it was a bit flat. I mean, I didn’t do anything with it. Only select few patients were allowed to use a straightener (come on, hot things and unstable people? No). But it was soft and long, past my shoulders, and weirdly wavy. It wasn’t curly, but it most definitely wasn’t straight. The dark locks were slightly blonde in some places, and- if you caught it earlier when Drew was insulting me- used to be dyed red on the ends. Piper had some magical fingers though, because when she left, my hair was always swept up into some crazy braid or updo.

Leo, I think, was what kept the nightmares away when I slept. I told you earlier that the demons didn’t like him, right? Leo would come in a good two hours before bedtime and keep me company. I didn’t talk, I didn’t smile, I didn’t really respond at all. But somehow I think he knew I was listening. He’d tell jokes, and he’d tell me stories, sort of a mix of his childhood and crazy tales of fiction weaved into the same space. Every night, for those unresponsive three days, before he’d leave, he’d push my bangs off my forehead and place a soft kiss there, like I had when he had almost burned down the institute. The first time.

I never slept.

But that simple gesture kept the demons away all night.

The fourth day I was there nonresponsive, everything went like normal. Leo placed that soft kiss on my forehead, and lingered in the doorway before he left, watching my eyes stare blankly at the wall opposite me.