Poets of War [L.H] - short story

~ Chapter 2 ~

My dearest Em

My ward has been the complete opposite to yours, instead of the lively buzz, there was a bland silence that hung. The tension is unbearable. Its heavy, so heavy. I feel like I am carrying all the burdens of the world on my shoulders. I feel like all the pain and emotions from the other patients has been drained and placed into the atmosphere. 

It makes me nervous. When the Atmosphere of our ward changes, so does everyone else. The patients start acting up more than normal, they start doing things they normally wouldn't do. Three kids have already been sent to the clinic due to self inflicted ways of dealing with the change. My room mate, for example, was taken away this morning. I can't help but think that If I had gotten help sooner, I could of helped him. 

I watched him do it; how idiotic of me? first he started pacing, which was normal of him. The kid had ADHD, so keeping still for long periods of time was near impossible. Anyway, he started looking around, as if something was following him. 

Now you may be thinking 'Luke, why didn't you do anything? why didn't you alert someone?" I guess there was two reasons for that. The first being that I am mute so I couldn't yell for help, the second is that the kid turned to me and started telling me a story. 

The story was not of kings and queens and magical castles; this story was the complete opposite. 

He told about when he was a boy, he would watch his parents bring in animals and eat theme live, how him and his sister watched on, and eventually, how he had decided that his sister was a delightful meal.  

I was grossed out and confused. what do you say to someone after they admit to eating their sibling? At this point I decided to call for help, I ran my fingers under the rim of my desk (there was an emergency button there) After pressing the button, the kid started licking his arms, mumbling something about it tasting like chicken. 

His eyes flickered around the room once more before they settled on me. Still making eye contact, the boy snuck his teeth into the flesh on his arm. 

I couldn't bear to watch so I started to shout. I hadn't spoken in over two and a half years, so instead of getting out a loud cry for help, my voice croaked. 

By now the boy I roomed with had forgotten all about his own arm and had started to make his way towards me. I guess this is what motivated me to keep trying I guess. I started pounded my fists on the door in time with my beating heart. 

By the time the nurses had come, I had teeth marks deep in my leg. The kid was dragged away and I was taken to a different room; the place I am currently writing to you in. I haven't been able to capture the whole conversation between the nurses, but I think they are moving me. To where, I have no clue, but I hope that we will still be able to write.

You truly,

Luke