Out of This World

Chapter Three

Just like always, the first few days passed by in a blur. It was a constant stream of nurses coming in to make sure I was still breathing, every fifteen minutes like clockwork. I'd watch them jot down on their clipboard notes about me. I used to wonder what they wrote, but at the last hospital I got too curious and stole it to check.

I wish I hadn't.

Obsessive.

Anxiety.

PTSD.

Major depressive disorder with psychotic tendencies

The list went on. That wasn't the worst part, though. The last hospital I was at, they documented progress notes about me, all the nurses that worked on my case. Some simply said I refused to get out of bed, that I refused to eat, and that I refused to take my medication. All true, so I couldn't be mad.

But one nurse wrote paragraphs about me, documenting the things I'd say in my sleep, writing down their evaluations of me. One of the notes described me as "majorly depressed and in need of inpatient hospitalization indefinitely."

Joke's on them, I was out of that hospital three days later. It might have been due to the courts releasing me, and I might have lied so I wouldn't have anyone staring at me anymore.

And I might have ended up right where I was 48 hours later.

But at least I got out.

I got out, got sent back in, and now I was doomed to spent my days wandering the halls, the courtyard, looking for anything to distract me.

Getting out of bed had gotten easier after the first few mornings, though. Every day I woke up a little bit earlier, got dressed a little bit quicker. I didn't know if it was the meds I was getting here, or the niceness of some of the nurses (a short, pudgy man named Duncan was my favorite so far), or the ability to go outside whenever I wanted - that part was a first for me.

On one of my trips venturing outside of my bedroom, I noticed Toby hiding in the corner of the courtyard, using a dumpster to shield him from the nurse supervising us. He was smoking a cigarette, and I wondered how he snuck them in.

"You know, smoking is bad for you."

"I'll quit then. It's not like I'm addicted to it. I'm just bored."

I laughed dryly. "Isn't that something addicts say?"

"I'm serious," he said, his face turning hard, "I'm not addicted to it. I just like it. There's a difference."

This Toby was different than the one I met. All of a sudden he wasn't carefree and cocky.

Looks like I hit a nerve.

"Why do you want to set the world on fire?"

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"I heard you say that to doc the other day. What did you mean?"

"So you were spying on me." I was avoiding the topic, because no one ever understood.

"Spying, no. Casually listening from the other side of the door, yes. So tell me, why do you want to set the world on fire?"

"Because then everyone will understand the hell I'm living in. Everyone will know how much it hurts to burn."

Toby looked at me thoughtfully. I thought for a second he was going to tell me that he understood how I felt, and finally someone would get it.

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

Well, I was wrong.

"I knew you wouldn't get it," I sighed, "no one ever does."

"No, that's not what I meant," he insisted, "I understand completely. That just doesn't make it any less crazy. Wow, you really do belong here."

I had just met this boy, and already he thought he knew who I was.

"I don't belong here," I lied, not even believing it myself.

"Oh yeah?" Toby asked, "so you're saying you're not a horribly depressed twenty-something-year-old girl with Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD, and anxiety?"

I just stared. How did he know all that?

"I took a wild guess," he said, reading my mind, "it comes pretty naturally when you've been around here as long as I have.

I had been wondering how long Toby had been here for, since he seemed to know all the nurses and called Dr. Watts "doc" exclusively, but I had been too nervous to ask. It was either that, or I was just too depressed to speak.

"I've been here since March," he told me, reading my mind again, "so three months. Before that, I was here for six. I'll probably be here for another six at least, I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

"Why do they keep you here so long?" The average stay was fourteen days, and I thought I was pushing the limit by staying in hospital for a month or two at a time.

"Oh, they don't," Toby assured me, "I can leave any time I want. I get day passes now too, so I can come and go before it gets dark outside."

"Then why the hell are you here?" I couldn't help myself from asking. I couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to be in a place like this. He didn't seem depressed, psychotic, or anything else that would land a person here.

"It's my home, sweetheart - "

"I'm not your sweetheart," I interrupted. I hated when people called me that.

"Okay then, Mars," Toby said, emphasizing the nickname he had given me, "it's still my home though. I got nowhere else to be, and besides, I'm safe here."

"So what, are you crazy too?"

"A type of sorts, yes. I'm not bad crazy like you, though. I'm a fun crazy."

I continued to stare at him, watching as he paused to take a long drag of his cigarette. I didn't smoke, but he made it look so appealing, and I almost wanted to ask for one.

"I'm what some people would call a junkie," he explained.

Great. The only friend I was making here was a dope fiend.

"What, so you lie, steal, and cheat?"

"Sometimes," he smirked. I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. I had a feeling that would become the norm.

"Jesus, you make me want to jump off that roof again."

Toby had been raising his cigarette to his lips to take another long drag, but he paused. I could tell he didn't know if I was kidding either, and I liked it.

"So that's what got you here," he contemplated, "interesting."

The thing I didn't like was this boy knowing too much about me. Everything seemed to be on his terms, and it annoyed me.

"I'm not sure I like you," I commented.

"That's fair," he agreed, "most people aren't. But there's something I know that might make you change your mind."

"What?"

"The world's already on fire, there just isn't any flames."