Quarantined

Chapter 2

Today has been a wonderful day! We all went to the village nearby and walked through the park; but since I tire easily, I elected to sit on one of the park's benches and take in the fresh air for a few minutes while Chris and Sam made wishes at the fountain in the park's center. Believe it or not, I once used to think that sort of practice actually worked. But then I grew older and realized it was not as truthful as it seemed. Still, the two of them looked like they were having so much fun, so I chose to leave that matter alone. After they were done, I joined them in walking for a little while longer, we all went to have lunch, and then we spent a good chunk of the early afternoon inside a reptile museum. Poor Sam got scared by all the lizards. She initially insisted that we not go, but Chris was having none of it. "You know this place is actually doing good for you, in reality," he said. "And really, how are you going to get over it if you never face it?" The whole experience was really quite entertaining. 

It is very late now, and I have retired to my room for the evening. I glossed over it before, on that first day, but this room is actually quite inviting. Chris and Sam are already asleep; I tried to go to sleep as well, but I could not bring myself to do so. I stayed up for hours, taking in the room's appearance. I had a medication I was supposed to be taking in case this happens, but unfortunately, it did not work this time. The walls of the room, in particular, earned my interest. It was not like the solid white walls I knew, from my regular house. But instead, these confines were a smooth, solid blue. Like the rushing, clean waves on a beach on a hot summer day. The design was very entrancing as well. You see, it was not just simply one shade of blue. There was a lighter section of blue, as the background, and then a darker shade of blue layered on top of that, going up and down the wall every so often, in a rather complicated pattern. There was one straight, vertical strip going down from the ceiling to the floor (or from the floor to the ceiling, whichever it was) and then the other thin threads wrapped around it every which way. It reminded me somewhat of a snake's slithering movements. Even more so, the two uppermost arches on each instance of the design looked to me as though they were the perfect size and shape of eyeballs, and so I began to see them as such. The fact that they occurred so often within the wall's pattern greatly unsettled me. 

I suppose it should come as no surprise that I began to see the wall in such an extravagant way. Even when I was so much younger, appearances and attributes of items or rooms in general have tended to strike my fancy. I always liked old-fashioned clock stores (the ones with the hands, not the digital ones that have seemingly taken over everyone's lives these days) due to the sounds the clocks made. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.....that sound combined with the sheer number of clocks in the room gave me a feeling of familiarity that I could barely explain in words. Even now, whenever I come across a grandfather clock, or any clock that has hands, I am reminded of those times. Or one might consider the time I visited a relative's house and fell in love with a certain chair of his that sat idly by in the corner of one of his rooms. By all means, it looked like it should have been in immensely poor condition, but its functionality would have said otherwise. I do not exactly know why I was so drawn to it; maybe because of its strength and utter refusal to break. No matter who sat on it, it would never give way. On the outside, it looked weak, but its performance was great. It really was quite an admirable chair, that one. 

Gazing at the wall and seeing the numerous eyes watching me made me feel uncomfortable after a while. They were always open, spectating, unblinking.....I decided that I had to sleep sometime, so I elected to cover my head with the blankets to avoid looking at them (they were not making any sounds, thankfully) and go to sleep, though not before taking another pill before doing so. I closed my eyes, feeling remorseful that my observations had caused me to miss two valuable hours of sleep.

I made a promise to myself that I would not let my mental illness overcome me on this trip.

I already failed.