All Of Me | Camren

three

The scar on her knee is a mystery. She's not sure where it came from, or what inflicted it. All she knows is that it has been there for as long as she can remember. She asked about it a few times as a child but whenever she'd bring up the baffling origin of the rather large ragged mark along the side of her knee, her parents would change the subject or give an unconvincing 'we don't know.' She let it fade to the back of her mind, though it has become a habit of hers to run her finger along its path when wearing anything short enough to reveal it. Now is no exception and she finds herself repeatedly tracing the subtle ridge as she pays only half of her attention to her doctor and her parents as they talk about her options. The day after bringing up the topic of institutionalization, they'd decided Stonehaven would be the best place for her, and thus they arrived at the hospital.

"What do you say, Camila?" Dr. Edwards inquires, bringing her attention back to the adults in the room.

She blushes, admitting, "I wasn't listening. Sorry."

He chuckles, reassuring her that it's okay before he reiterates, "The earliest we can get you in is later today. Otherwise, we'll have to wait for another week."

She gulps, looking across to her parents who each have a stack of various papers in hand, and considers her options. If she goes today, that's it for another two weeks—she definitely won't be getting out before the tour starts up again—and possibly longer, though she doesn't want to think about that. If she waits, not only will she miss a whole week's worth of shows, her fears might get the better of her and she might back out. The better decision is clear, though that doesn't make it any easier to make.

"You want to go today, don't you?" Sinu offers kindly, laying a hand on her daughter's thigh in hopes of comforting her.

She nods, and that's that.

. . .

Two hours later, she's finished packing, its lengthy duration down to tears and hugs interrupting the process. An hour after that, she's avoiding Sofi's worried questions as they climb into the car. Half an hour of sympathetic glances and a silent drive leads her to the point she's at now, staring up at the unimposing-yet-intimidating building with tension rising in her chest.

The building itself doesn't loom over her as she expected, nor does it look anything like a prison. In fact, she might call it cute, in its own way. While it is one-story and very boxy in shape, the brick exterior is painted white in places that aren't covered with colourful, painted murals of animals and flowers. The entrance is a set of automatic doors below the joyful word, "Welcome!" in shimmering silver letters, and she can just see a slither of outdoor space behind the far wall: a yard and the edge of a basketball court. Her new home. Well, for two weeks.

To complete the tedious procedure of checking in that left Camila twice as nervous as before and changed into an approved outfit consisting of sweatpants with an elastic waist rather than string and a loose-fitting t-shirt she can't remember buying, she and her parents are led by a nurse into a small room and explained the basics of staying here.

"To start with," She says after running through the schedule, "She's going to be on suicide watch, just until we know enough to clear her. That means no strings, no shoelaces, no sharp objects, and no touching."

Camila frowns at the last word, asks what she meant, and feels her heart drop when she learns she won't be able to touch anyone for the first week here, not even her family when they come to visit. A week may not seem like a long time, but Camila has always been an affectionate person and she knows going without human contact leaves her even more spaced out than usual. Maybe that will be good, though, she reasons with herself; Maybe it'll help the doctors see why she's so concerned about her own mental health.