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Day six starts at eight thirty a.m, two hours later than usual because it is finally Saturday - the weekend. The previous night ended up with me in the doctor's office, my vitals being checked, and then being ordered to bed early. Apparently, rest would help with whatever had happened. But as I am rising from bed to stretch, Levi appears in the doorway, looking sleepy yet stressed.

"There is a new kid!" He whispers, motioning for me to come to the doorway.

I oblige, padding over, my hospital sock clad feet slapping across the hard surface. We peek around the bend just in time to see a boy being led into the doctor's office - likely to be examined, just as we all were upon admission. From what I saw, he's tall and lanky, medium length black hair - it's probably coloured.

"Wonder what's wrong with this one," I mutter, glancing over to Levi.

He shrugs his broad shoulders, "I guess we'll find out."

And we do.

After the usual morning routine of showers and breakfast - which the new patient did not attend - we are taken to the group room. Evelyn, the occupational therapist, is running our morning group. She's a nice woman, a bit older, but surely everyone's favorite. Her job is to supervise us as we do arts and crafts, like preschoolers. But it's the only fun activity offered, which means it's the most anticipated part of the day. As she enters, the new kid follows behind her like a lost puppy, his eyes cast downward. He takes a seat next to her at the table, his hands clasped together.

"Good morning, everyone!" Evelyn greets, opening her manila file folder, "Late last night we had a new patient come to the psychiatric floor. Please understand that this is his first time here and I know all of you had a rough first day."

First days here are tough, at least mine was. I was scared, I felt alone. Everyone's eyes were constantly on me, watching my every move. Studying me. And when you don't know anyone there, it's very intimidating.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" Evelyn presses, "Just your first name is fine."

He picks at the skin of his wrists, looking up, eyes darting around to each of us, "My name is Jai."

Jai, it suits him - I think. We chorus a polite welcome jai or simply hello. He offers a smile in return.

Evelyn smiles and states that we are now to go to the arts room down the hall for occupational therapy. I have never done this before - it's only offered on weekends - but by the excitement on everyone's faces, I know it must be good.

In the arts room, I sit next to Michael, and when Jai comes in, I ask him to sit with us. Michael seems tense as Jai sits down, but I ignore it. The boy is new, he looks young, maybe the youngest here.

As Michael places tiny coloured beads onto a stencil, he asks, "What happened to you last night?"

I look up at him, my origami owl dropping to the table, "You know, Michael. You know everything that happens here. You're an introvert."

He smirks at my comment, placing a black bead onto the left side of the stencil, "Yeah, I am, good observation."

He's cocky today, which isn't like him. I wonder if Jai being here has swayed Michael's attitude.

"Jai, is it?" I question, changing the subject quickly.

The boy looks up, his messy locks falling into his eyes, "Yeah."

I smile, nodding in understanding, "I'm Luke. And this douche over here is Michael, he usually isn't this talkative."

Michael whines a loud hey and scrunches up his nose in distaste. The action is rather adorable and I wish he would do it more often. When the session ends, I have made several origami animals. Michael has designed a heart shape made from beads pressed together by a hot iron - which Evelyn did for him.

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