The institute (Phan)

The Room

From the first time I saw him, I knew I would grow to like him. Which is saying something for me, seeing as I had been there for 4 years and made no friends. He was sitting in the waiting room, tapping his feet and shaking, with both nerves and excitement, I remember watching him through the small window in the door. I had to make sure nobody would see me or I would have been sent back to my room. I remember watching him as his eyes scanned over the displays, the floor and the reception desk, as if his eyes were x-Rays or something. It only lasted about half a minute before a nurse took his arm and started leading him towards the door I was standing at. I tried to run away and hide but I slipped and ended up meeting him for the first time while on the floor with bruised knees and hair that somewhat resembled a hobbit. I remember looking up and wondering what he was in for, he looked so innocent unlike most of the others at the institution. After I'd gotten myself up I walked straight over to him, intending to say hello. But instead when I looked into his eyes I got lost in thought. I must have been staring like a complete psycho which is probably why he decided then to sprint off down the corridor. I was ushered back to my room my the male nurses at the reception, as the lady ran after him.

I hated my room, it was cramped enough to only fit a bed, a sink and a rusty set of drawers, which were checked through daily. We didn't have anything to do in terms of entertainment so all you could do was lay down staring at the ceiling, for the 5 or so hours that we were locked in it a day. Even if you wasn't crazy like us, the damn place was depressing enough to make you crazy. At the time, my favourite colour was yellow, and we were allowed to choose our wall colour but when I asked for yellow I was told I was't allowed as it makes people suicidal. Bullshit. I'd been suicidal since I was 13, and never had I had yellow walls. I slipped off my shirt and sat on my bed, leaning against the wall. Which by the way, after yellow was rejected, I'd decided to make blue. I hated taking my jeans off, the skin before them was layered with endless scars and scratches which all reminded me of places that I didn't want to remember. People that I didn't want to remember. After staring at the wall for thirty minutes, the only thing they seemed to let you do, I crawled under the dirty, blood stained sheets and closed my eyes.
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I was awoken by the sound of someone screaming, which wasn't unusual for this place. By time I'd gotten out of bed and dressed, the screaming had turned into wailing, and as I opened my door I saw the boy from the previous night, in a heap on the floor sobbing with nurses standing around him. I knew I wasn't allowed but I began walking towards him, expectant to be grabbed and pulled away. Although I wasn't and as I watched the nurses I could see that by their worn out faces that at this point they were so desperate to get him to shut up they would do anything.

As I approached him I kneeled down and put a hand on his back, and sat down besides him. The boy looked up at me, with tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes, and whispered "Who are you?"
I didn't know how to explain myself here apart from as a patient, so I just told him that I was Dan.
"Get away from me. I don't want help from you nurses. I want my youtube back, if you can't give me that then back off,"
I stroked down his back and whispered into his ear, "Mate, I'm not a nurse I'm a patient like you. I've been where you are, come in my room and we can talk,"
And unexpectedly he stood up, wiped away his tears, and grabbed his hand onto my arm, at that point I realised how small and bony he was, his hands were literal skin and bone. All of the bones on his face were defined, perfectly as if made by angels. I shook that thought off of my head almost immediately but I definitely recognised him from somewhere. I started smiled and lead him to my room, closing the door behind me. I sat on the bed and signalled for him to sit at the other end.

"Why do you love youtube so much? Were you big on there?" I asked removing his hand from my arm and placing it onto his leg.
"I don't mean to brag but I had over a million subscribers, I was AmazingPhil. Youtube was the only thing keeping me holding on but now they've taken it away. You've probably not heard of me seeing as you live...here..."
"Shit... I knew I recognised you, you are AmazingPhil... Well was... I mean you still are but..." I decided to just shut up, this couldn't have gone any worse. I was literally rubbing in the fact that he can't youtube anymore. Deciding to change the subject, I asked him what he was in for.
"We've only just met, I'm not sure I want to say,"
"Well I'm in for 8 suicide attempts and manic depression" My voice quietened down to an embarrassed whisper towards the end but Phil didn't look at me pitifully, he just swallowed deeply and whispered back, "I have been hospitalised for starving myself 13 times, and have a BMI of 13 so they decided after 4 years of suffering to take me in..." It was silent for a moment before I decided to ask him his age, to which he replied telling me that he was 24. Four years older than I was, suddenly I felt more like a baby then any help, like a hindrance more than a friend.