misfits · calum hood

day twenty-one

day twenty-one - problems

☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹

Vicky,
Are you there??? Have you been in punishment again or something?? I haven't gotten a letter from you in awhile, like three days. Maybe four. It's just been awhile. Maybe it's not really that long but to me it's a LIFETIME. I might be overreacting. It's probably just the hospital, they might suck at sending letters or something. But I really miss your cute little handwriting and your hospital gossip and your stories about the mysterious Calum dude(??) and I just really miss you. I'm going to stop now before I cry.
-Cierra
P.S. Your birthday is soon. Really soon. I really hope you leave before then, or they at least let you come home for you birthday. I will come to that hospital and beg on my knees if I have to, God dammit.

Cierra's letter made me feel a bit better. Nonetheless, it made me want to go home even more. I missed home so much, it was hard to even bare. Sure, this hospital had grown on me and I had made friends but it wasn't home.

Cierra was right. My birthday was soon. It turns out in mental hospitals you lose track of the days. Sometimes you're positive it's a Sunday and then someone tells you that it's a Wednesday. So I sort of forget that my birthday was soon.

It sucked that I would probably have to spend my birthday in the hospital. That is not how anyone should spend their birthday. Steph spent her birthday here; she said they bought her cake but it wasn't the same as being home for your birthday. So I just figured it would be another depressing birthday for me.

And it was my seventeenth birthday, too. Every girl always planned to have some big sweet sixteen for when they, obviously, turn sixteen. Me? Well, I had always planned a huge seventeenth birthday party. I wrote down everything I wanted and everyone I wanted to invite and everything. (Keep in mind that I was, like, eight at the time.) And let me tell you, one of those things on that list in that notebook was not: spend my seventeenth birthday at a mental hospital.

I put the letter down and went to go take my meds again. I was dissapointed when Michael wasn't there, I had wanted to talk to him. I questioned whether I should hang around the waiting room to see if he showed up, but the woman at the desk was already giving me strange enough glances so I didn't take the risk. I simply left to go back upstairs.

I had grown to hate elevators. Every day I had to take the same elevator and push the same buttons to get to whatever floor. They had just started to annoy me at that point. It wasn't that I ever enjoyed elevators. Elevators were just fucking boring.

The elevator being boring was not the case today.

I walked on and it was more crowded than usual, and it was also filled with familiar faces. Kat. Michael. Doctors. It was kind of chaotic. There was a lot of loud talking and even some yelling. And Kat and Michael were both crying.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I stepped foot on that elevator. I decided that I should turn around and get off, but my feet wouldn't move.

I didn't know why they were crying. Michael was trying to get Kat to talk to him but Kat wouldn't listen to him or turn around to face him. And that made Michael cry even harder.

Kat needed to get off at this floor. She didn't bid anyone goodbye and she strided off, still sobbing into her hands. Doctors followed her. Michael tried to chase after her but his doctor put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

I chewed on my bottom lip, confused by everything that I had seen. I pushed the button to my floor quickly, walking to the corner of the elevator and staying put.

Michael had saw me, apparently, because he pushed past his doctors and hugged me. So much for rules. I was taken aback, but I soon hugged him back. The doctors didn't even try to stop us which was weird. Maybe they felt bad for Michael? Maybe they had seen me somewhat comfort Calum and had let me try to comfort Michael? Maybe their reactions were delayed and they had yet to see the crying boy hugging me?