It had been two months since John Egbert had been allowed to see the outside world, and quite frankly he was bored as hell. He was also in hell. Or it felt like he was. He had been admitted to the Springwood Behavioral Hospital by his father for a severe case of bullima. It always shocked people when he revealed that.
Apparently boys aren't supposed to get eating disorders. That was just fucking offensive to both genders, and he often let the ignorant pricks that said that know.
Often with outbursts of violence. John wasn't keen on fighting, but if you pissed him off enough, he would fuck you up seven ways from Sunday .
He was a small boy, only 5"3, but he was 175 pounds of almost pure pudge. He hated every inch of it. He wanted it gone but no matter what he fucking tried it still clung to him like a needy bitch.
For now, John sat in the room labeled "Music Therapy". He was hunched over a piano, trying desperately to remember that scale he'd thought of earlier.
John's Tech, (the more correct term for their caretakers) Jane sat near the door, playing on her phone, she would occasionally glance over to him and sigh quietly. She wished there was more she could do to help this boy, but he was difficult. Very difficult.
She quickly texted Jake, asking when the new patient was arriving. He didn't answer.
" Hey Jane?"
"Yeah?"
John began to aimlessly play a familiar tune. He didn't even need to look at the keys.
"D'ya know when I'm getting out?"
He asked her this every day. Every day she gave him the same response.
"Shucks, d'ya think you're ready to leave?"
"Nah. I'm just bored."
The door opened and Jake entered the room, and behind him was a tall, lanky boy, with platinum blond hair and more freckles than anyone could count.
A new kid.
Cool.
The two Techs quickly fell into the friendly banter that always occurred when they were together. The blond boy just stood in the doorway.
No one had bothered to Introduce John to him, so John supposed he was expected to do it himself. He abandoned the piano and made his way over to freckles. The closer he got the more he realized how badly this kid needed to be here. His arms were covered in cuts, and they were so neat you could only assume they'd been done by him. John looked up at him. Fucker was tall.
Wait.
Were his.....?
Were his eyes red?
Holy shit.
"So are you going to stand there like an idiot or introduce yourself? Because after this I'm probably never going to speak to you again."
Rude.
"John Egbert, thanks for asking."
"Dave Strider, and you're welcome."
Jake quickly explained that freckles the asshole was John's new roommate, and that there was to be no fighting.
A young man named John Egbert suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.
This boy was going to be the death of you.
