Open Your Eyes (Cashby)

Chapter 3

ALAN'S POV

Walking through the hospital could feel kind of lonely, even with a nurse, so I was happy for the interesting color swirls in front of my eyes. That sounds messed up, but in a certain way, I had grown very accustomed to my schizophrenia. That word, schizophrenia, it had so many bad connotations. It made me sound like a crazed person, but I really wasn't. The way it affected my brain was bad, but it came in a lot of different forms, Dr. Wheeler had taught me. Sometimes, I would hallucinate, and be thrust into these nightmare-like episodes. Those were the worst. A lot of the time, I couldn't separate reality from fantasy. Voices were almost constant, and it was difficult to tell which were real and which weren't. That's why I didn't have any friends here, besides Jake. He was more of a guardian, too. I had a small crush on Jake, but that was unimportant here. We weren't allowed to touch each other, no one was. Those were the rules, and everyone had to follow them. As previously stated, I disliked the rules. But he had lovely smooth hair, and a nice strong voice. It was just a tiny crush, I swear, I didn't even think about him that much. We were roommates, both here because we weren't fit to live in society. He was a drug addict, and went through withdrawal sometimes. He's also the reason they took all the glue out of the Arts and Crafts room.
As I walked carefully into the room, the art instructor greeted me.
"Hello, Alan. How are we feeling today?" She smiled to me. I didn't trust her, but I liked her well enough.
"Good." I mumbled, and walked to an open seat with no one close. Abilene Bolvaro was a round, Hispanic woman who always had a smile on her face. Her name, in Spanish, means "born where the grass grows", and I believe she's very proud of that. She asks us to simply call her Abilene, but I still called her Mrs. Bolvaro. I didn't like first names for authority figures. It was weird.
I waited as everyone filed in, observing them. Sometimes, I would hear a voice making comments, accusations about the people here. It had been quiet since my episode this morning. A lot of them look so tired, like all the life had been sucked out with a vacuum. I imagined every inpatient, standing in line, waiting for their hopes to be removed and replaced with sand. Some just looked bored. An 80 pound girl named Marilyn walked in, snapping her zero calorie gum, and sat down next to me.
"God, this class is so boring." She complained, looking at her weak fingernails. I said nothing, just looked at her. She had thin, matted brown hair pulled up into a little pony tail, a bit falling at the edges near her sharp cheekbones. I wanted to touch them, but I didn't. "Aren't you going to say anything to me?" I bit my lip.
"I like your cheekbones." I whispered, looking down. Making friends was hard for me. I couldn't hear her very well, because the whispers were getting louder. They were talking to each other, but the words didn't make any sense.
"Thank you!" She smiled huge, her bony fingers clinging to the edge of the table.
"Can I touch them?" She looked at me with judgmental eyes, like I was weird.
"Why?" She asked. I shrugged.
"They're so pretty." She blushed, and then nodded. I brushed my fingertips across her face. Touching stuff was a thing for me; I needed to touch things sometimes. It was difficult to stop myself. Drawing my hand away, she beamed a me.
"You're a weird little one, aren't you?" She giggled. I looked away, then to the blank paper in front of me. I stared around me as the last few came in. The room was set up with long tables in horizontal rows, each with chairs at them. All the art supplies were in cabinets at the far left side of the room. We mostly used watercolor. I loved watercolor so much, it didn't even make sense. I just loved how light and airy it was. "You don't say much." She remarked, pulling me back to reality. Jake walked in, and I waved. I wanted him to sit next to me, but he didn't. He waved back, then sat by some others. My feelings were hurt a little bit, but it didn't matter a whole lot.
"I want Jake to sit here, too." I mumbled. I liked the way his hair shone in the sun light that filtered through the window.
"He's pretty cute, isn't he?" She smiled. I sighed, resting my chin on my palms.
"Yeah." I grumbled. Today, besides this morning, had been pretty good. The voices weren't too loud anymore, and I was feeling sorta social.
"Okay, class, welcome back." Mrs. Bolvaro said, her signature smile lighting up the front of the room. "Get working! I want to see some beautiful watercolor paintings!" She said, and put on some calming music. Music was not my favorite thing in the world, but it was okay today. Sometimes, it was really loud and got all mixed up in my ears, and it sounded terrible. Today, that didn't happen. This was just what my life was like; good days and bad days. A month of being here, and I was doing a little better than when I first got here, I guess. My reality was still different than everyone else's, and I wasn't sure how to feel about anything.
I started painting, using lots of blues. Blue was a beautiful, marvelous color, with all it's different shades and meanings. I loved blue because it reminded me of freedom, and birds. Birds were so lucky, and I envied them. I imagined myself with wings. Strong, powerful wings, with feathers of every color in the rainbow. I imagined the way the cool air would feel beneath them as I glided through the sky, pushing myself further above the clouds, doing little dips and swirls, feeling the sun on my back. The idea captured me in a strong, emotional way, so I painted about it. I was no good at art, but Mrs. Bolvaro said it didn't matter. My eyes flicked over to Marilyn, who was painting a picture of a flower. I thought, in my mind, that she was sad and beautiful, and that maybe she resembled a worn out cloth with a pretty design. Tears and rips all throughout, but she was still hanging on with a special sort of beauty. Her thigh gap and visible chest bones made me sad, and looking at them twisted my stomach. She wants you to feel sorry for her. When your guard is down, that's when people strike.
"I don't know about that." I replied. I felt proud that I was able to disagree with myself. I couldn't do that a few weeks ago, and it was still difficult.
"Don't know about what?" She asked. She knows you're crazy. She'll take advantage of you. I didn't say anything, just looked away. "O-kay, have fun with that." She rolled her eyes at me.
"Class?" Mrs. Bolvaro asked. Some people looked up, others just ignored her. "I have to make a run downstairs. Our new orderly will take over for a bit." She announced. We got new orderlies every so often. "His name is Austin." She said. Looking up, I observed him, and my stomach filled with warm butterflies. A red blush creeped across my cheeks, and I started feeling very stupid all of the sudden. Austin, the new orderly, was a very tall man with dark brown hair, and he was walking around and talking to patients. Well, maybe man was the wrong word. He looked a lot younger than some of the orderlies, and was very attractive. His hair was all gelled up in the front. Quickly, I looked back down to my picture. Taking my brush, I started to add little feathers, all colored feathers, all over my wings. You're an idiot. You'll never come close to good enough. It was difficult to accept that these beautiful wings would never be mine, just a figment of my imagination. On my arm, I watched little feathers sprout, which made me smile. Dr. Wheeler says I need I try and control my delusions so that they won't develop into episodes, but these feathers seemed harmless. Then again, how could I be sure this was a delusion? Maybe magic exists! Maybe I wished hard enough for this, and now it was paying off. My whole arm was covered in ruby red, ocean blue, golden, and grass green feathers. The other arm was too, and I quite enjoyed the sight. It made me want to fly. You could be so free. No more rules, no more pills, no more therapy. Trust me. I'm you. I was considering getting up and going to the roof, but I didn't, because I could feel a presence behind me. I wanted to look behind me, but I kept stopping myself. Feeling very paranoid, I started panicking inside. My feathers disappeared one by one, very quickly. I whimpered, watching my one chance at freedom slip away.
"No." I mumbled sadly.
"Hello." A voice behind me said. I turned to see the new orderly, in his baby blue scrubs, smiling down at me. My throat felt choked up. He already knows you're an idiot. Crap! "That's a really pretty painting. Is it supposed to be you?" He asked kindly. I bit my lip, turning back to the table and staring at it. I couldn't bring myself to say anything to him. Marilyn smirked at me.
"He's a little shy." She said, smiling at him flirtatiously. My cheeks were bright red, and I felt so anxious. All I wanted was to be sucked up into the ground, where neither could see me.
"Oh, that's okay. Don't be nervous, I won't bite." He joked, smiling. I nodded slowly so he wouldn't think I was more of a freak than he already probably did. I wished desperately for those wings again, so I could fly far, far away. He sauntered away, and I finally breathed again. Marilyn snickered at me.
"Wow." She muttered, going back to painting her flower. I was so glad that was over, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He smiled at everyone, complimenting their artwork, just being friendly. One boy, Salem, was trying to sharpen his paintbrush and cut himself with it. I got that feeling, the same feeling from when I looked at Marilyn's chest bones. It made my stomach twist in sadness, and made me want to run far away. Austin calmly took the paintbrush from his hands, and escorted him out. For the rest of the time, I just zoned out, listening to the nonsense conversations in my head. I liked the way it calmed me down so much, smoothing out all the little bumps in my mind. The bumps were thoughts, and thoughts sometimes troubled me. This way, I didn't have to think. I just had to listen.
•••
The rest of the day was uneventful, and my feathers didn't come back. I really wished they would've. I wish I could've shown Jake how cool they were. Maybe he'd have been interested. When I slid into bed that night, he was already lying down.
"Hey Alan." He greeted, looking up from his book. I smiled at him.
"Hi Jake."
"So, the new orderly, right?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and I turned red, thinking about his handsome face. "I could see how red you were from across the damn room." My roommate chuckled.
"Come on." I muttered. I pulled the covers up and flicked my lamp off.
"No, I want to talk about this." He continued, sounding amused. I just groaned, and turned around to face the wall. There were two beds on opposite sides of the room against the walls. Each had a nightstand with a lamp. I said nothing, just stared at the wall. I waited quietly until sleep came over me, heavy and warm.