Our Reflection

40• It's Been A Long Day Without You

Marjorie Blossom POV

Two months after I was admitted, I started to leave the nostalgia a little behind.

Allowing a feeling like this to spoil my improvement would be like throwing away all the effort I was making to keep myself healthy, which is often difficult to live with so many people with problems the same or worse than mine. One afternoon, during lunch in the cafeteria, I witnessed the outbreak of a patient who was not more than twenty-two years old. Lila was new to the hospital and had been causing problems for doctors and nurses, her talent for disturbing the elderly was leaving the place upside down. The day we started calling it Surto Da Mutante, while I was eating a steak that was giving me such a hard beating, I jumped in shock when I heard Lila screaming, standing on the chair.

Her eyes drew my attention because of their violet color, a biological rarity that made her beautiful. Pale as a deceased and with platinum hair, the girl reminded me of classic vampires like Dracula or Interview with The Vampire, not to mention her questionable temperament.

I often wondered what her problem was, but I didn't have the courage to reach out to someone and clear up my doubts. Some said it was bipolar, others "lack of spanking".

It was nothing like that and I knew it well, maybe it was Lila's way of staring at a point during her attacks and after a while, shutting up and sitting back as if nothing had happened, but that day she didn't stop.

"Sick and retarded, they will never leave here. Death will take one by one, like stupid sheep devoured by a hungry wolf.", she laughed as she looked around the cafeteria, pointing at the faces of the other patients.

"There is no forgiveness for people like us, God is ashamed of his creations, we are the drafts, thrown in the garbage can of the world and born by soulless prostitutes."

Some nurses approached Lila and she laughed even more, a monstrous laugh that spread through the cafeteria, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I watched in astonishment as the head nurse injected something into Lila's neck and she fell flat on the lap of one of the men in white. When they passed my table, I noticed the deep cuts on the girl's wrists, some fresh.

"Did your parents never care about you?", I followed the procession until I lost sight of them.

The silence in the cafeteria was sepulchral, ​​the exchanges of gaze indicated fear and disturbance, but some were angry.

Patients never liked the newcomers who created confusion, especially at sacred lunchtime.

Rita, an elderly woman who, in her glory days, worked in an itinerant park like Madame Futuro, fell passed out on top of the mashed potatoes, making me raise her head in a hurry.

I wiped her face with the help of a napkin and felt her bony fingers close on my wrist.

"Fire. Burn. Death."

Her eyes widened and I tried to loosen her grip, feeling regret for not letting her suffocate in the puree.

"Fire. Burn to death. Escape."

"Rita, you're hurting my wrist, let me go."

"Punishment. You cannot escape punishment."

"Let me go!"

My hand snapped on the woman's face and she seemed to come back to reality.

Everyone at the table moved away and their eyes shifted from the plates to Rita and me, who did not seem to understand the reason for my sudden aggression.