I vaguely remember what it was like when I first hit puberty... I "hit" it before I even knew what it was; needless to say, I was an early-bloomer at 13 years

old; but I distinctly remember my first experience. Although it was amazing, it is my highest of priorities to make it as vivid and lucid as humanly possible. So,

without further ado; I present the first of a series; Dawn.

When I was almost 17 I was admitted to a psychiatric ward to undergo surveillance; I was, and still am, a manic depressive. In the days prior to being

admitted, I had severe episodes and would harm myself in the midst of most of my tantrums. I still remember being processed; it was like I wasn't a human; I was

just a barcode and a number to them. Once I had been taken in by the hospital; they weighed me, measured me, and searched me for any wounds; new or old. The

stale air still lingers in my nostrils from whence I was standing in the cold patient's room in nothing but boxers. The male nurse seemed alright, I think his name

was Josh, or was it Jeff? I'm confident it was Jeff. It was the shock of everything that was happening that kept me from being as observant as I usually was;

naturally, I am a highly intuitive and intellectual person; unless, of course, I'm having a scene. It wasn't long before it was nightfall. The room I was confined to had

a single window which overlooked the hospital entrance; said room was painted in pure white, however it was yellow in a few places--places they simply couldn't

manage to paint. An empty sitting desk made of old oak wood sat between the two beds occupying the room; I had chosen the one closest to the window; but either

would have sufficed, seeing as how there was no other person to occupy the remaining bed. The only other things in the room were two closets; which the doors

were made of metal; a shower; containing a cheap plastic curtain separating a claustrophobic cubicle and a rack to set towels and garments; and a small bathroom

holding only a toilet and a sink; all of which were always locked unless one of the staff was to open them. On my first night, I was restless. I must've paced my room

so many times I wore an inch out of the tile floor. Most of the night; I stood, staring out the window, basking in the moonlight. The analog clock on the wall seemed

to tick faster and faster as I focused in on the trees swaying in the breeze outside. I glanced at the clock; 10:48. I forgot about time and only let the trees take my

mind; they started to sing, quietly at first, but they soon created an orchestra; no, a symphony. Then, during their serenade; a voice shot through like glass

shattering on pavement, ringing in my head, "What are you doing?" Without thinking, I spun around to look at the nuisance, and before me stood a man no older

than me with nappy black hair and eyes as blue and grey that they resembled the moon itself.

"I was... Looking outside," I gave him a pensive look, "What're you doing... Here?"

"Am I not welcome," he responded pride fully.

"That depends," I turned back to the window, "Who are you?"

"Your new roommate, surprised much?"

I felt a grin spread across my face, "Not much surprises me anymore," once again I turned around; but this time I outstretched my hand. "Nice to meet

you...?"

He firmly gripped my hand, "Ethan."

"Ha, your name matches your attitude perfectly."

He returned a look of confusion, "I'm sorry?"

"Ethan. An egotistical and prideful person; sound about right?" More to myself than to him, I chuckled.

"Well I wouldn't say that. I take it your bed is the one near the window?"

"Yeah, it helps with my anxiety; I tend to get claustrophobic extremely easy," I jumped onto my bed and sighed.

[Too bad, I thought I'd have this room to myself.] Ethan appeared to be used to this hospital, he acted so casual. [Has he been here before? What's he here

for anyway?] Looking back at the clock it displayed 11:26. I decided I should at least try to sleep. I closed my eyes and made a desperate attempt to clear my mind,

but it was running with so many thoughts; [Who else is there here? Must I have a roommate? How long until I have to wake up?] Eventually, my thoughts subsided,

and my mind gave way to much needed rest. I awoke two minutes before 6:00. Almost as if on cue, Jeff entered the room at the stroke of 6; and from the

equipment he brought, I was feeling anxiety pushing down on me harder every step closer he took. He carried with him; needles, syringes, and vials; from the looks

of it, he wanted some blood, and that wasn't going to sit right with me. Petrified, I sat in my bed; staring, rather horrified, as my phobia kicked in. He set the

objects on the desk and said, "I just have to take a little of your blood, ok?" Before he even put the needle in my arm, I felt like fainting. Astonishingly enough, I

managed to block it out and pretend that there was something remotely interesting happening outside the window. Afterwards, Jeff woke Ethan and took his

blood; again, it seemed rather routine for him; he had no problem giving his blood. Jeff left just as suddenly as he entered.

"Have you been here before?" I blurted without a second thought.

He scratched at his eyes and yawned, "Yeah, a couple times; you?"

"No, it's my first."

Ethan turned to look at me, "I thought you were a greenhorn, I wasn't quite sure though, you seem naturally anxious."

I shrugged and simply replied, "One of the many reasons why I'm here."

"Which reminds me, what are you here for exactly?"

I held up my wrists, encased in bandages on the underside, "Bit of a control problem you could say."

"Yeah, I've seen a lot of people like that. Most people do it the wrong though; they always cut sideways, but from the looks of it you do it right, why didn't

it work?"

"I wasn't in the tub long enough before my parents found me. If only I had been in for another minute or two, though," I looked away uneasily. "Well, what

about you?"

"Me? Oh, well... Let's see... Doc's cooking up some new drugs for me because the last ones made me depressed."

"What're you taking them for though?"

"You lose control once and people label you crazy and drug you till you don't have any sanity left."

"Oh."

"Well we should get to the rec room, it's about time."

"Sure."

I took off my shirt and grabbed a different one from next to my bed, and when I looked up I saw Ethan's tan back; it was covered in giant scars and

healed lacerations. I felt it was probably best to not to ask. I quickly switched out my clothes and exited the room with Ethan close behind. The rec room was just a

big open room with a table in the center of it and a television in the corner. There were several, more spacious, windows lining the far wall; they looked down upon

a court within a fence. [Must be the courtyard. I wonder what all's in that shed.] At the head of the table sat a built black man, he introduced himself as Tyrone.

Besides him, other, younger, people sat, scattered, around the table. [He must be the counselor and everyone else must be other admits.] Throughout the day; we did

several activities and shared what was on our minds. Eventually, the day turned to evening, thus it was time to go to the cafeteria for dinner. There were mashed

potatoes, fried chicken, and fruit salad. Although, the food smelled delicious, I couldn't eat any because I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep any of it down--my

stomach was a giant knot and I'd gone without food before so I knew I'd be fine. Meanwhile, I watched everyone else eat. [I can't wait till I can go to sleep. I'm so

exhausted.] Luckily, everyone had finished their food pretty fast; and we departed the cafeteria to our "cells," as I called them. Carefully, I set down on my bed,

trying not to disturb my stomach. Ethan sat across from me on his bed and after a sigh asked if I wanted to do something.

"I don't see why not," I replied.

"How does chess sound?"

"I'm game," giving him a half smile. He left to fetch the board, and returned soon after empty- handed.

"Looks like someone else beat us to it."

"Well, we could..."

"How about we ask questions back and forth?"

"Sure, who goes first?"

"I'll start."

"Ok." I put my back on the wall support myself easier.

"What's the real reason you have those on your wrist?"

Almost subconsciously, I grabbed my wrists, "I told you."

"The real reason, I don't think so. Everyone has a reason, and everyone has an excuse. So what's the real reason?"

"By me telling you, you have to trust me, just as I am about to trust you, ok?"

"Of course." He sat up to show his peak in interest.

[I can't believe I'm doing this.] "Well... I thought I fell in love," impulsively, I scratched my arm.

"Classic, but what else?"

I looked down and sighed, "He left me for someone else."

"Wait-"

"Never mind, I've already said too much," I turned around so he couldn't see my face.

"I thought you were-"

"Straight? Yeah, I know, I get that a lot."

"No, I thought you did it because of a family thing; that's why most people I've met have done it."

"So... you don't care?" I turned my head to look at him.

"What, that you're gay, no. Should I?"

"Most guys do."

To Be Continued...

 

Joey

[email protected]

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