Psychological Affairs

Chapter Two: September 2nd, 2007

September 2nd, 2007 

Another day, the same routine, in the same place.  

I walked back from my daily morning routine and entered the living area. The living area is where some of the patients gather around and entertain themselves under the PT’s guidance. As usual, the same people are there. There’s Jennifer, the patient with Dissociative Personality Disorder, mocking the nurses. You have Vera, a pathological liar, playing chess by herself. You have all of the suicidal girls, drawing out their feelings until they eventually break down and cry. Then, you have Kate and Hillary smoking and sitting at a blue, round, wooden table, far back by the big window. I walk over to my usual table and sit on their opposite side.  

“Smoke?” Kate asked, holding up her weekly package of herbal cigarettes they provided her. I stared at her yellow, bitten fingernails and my eyes followed her blue, veiny hands. Her pale, white skin looked dull against her bleach blonde hair. 

“Thanks.” I said, taking one and putting it into my mouth while Hillary lights up my cigarette. 

We sit back and for a good 10 minutes, we say nothing. Let me explain our relationship. We all hate each other, but we’re the most sane ones in here. The silence continued until Kate finally says something. 

“How many points you got?” She asked me while her pale, blue eyes look into my hazel ones. 

“10. You?” 

“After what happened yesterday morning, I got 5. I need to get out of this dump.” She says as she begins to cry with her head on the table. 

“Well, maybe if you actually eat instead of avoiding it, you’d have more, dumbass.” Hillary said as her coal, black eyes burn a whole into Kate. 

“How many do you have?” I asked. 

“I have 5. I used to have 10, but apparently my comments to nurse Taco Bell over there, hurt her feelings. It’s not like I lied. The bitch is fat.” I chuckled. Nurse Rosa does wear clothes too sizes too small. 

“I guess I have the most.” I said. 

“Mike, you’re still gonna stay in this dump. No matter how hard you try to work the system, they’ll still find a way to bring you back.” 

“Says the sociopath.” I said bluntly. 

“I see you’re forgetting why you’re here, you dumb cunt.” She retorted. 

“I’m not a sociopath. Listen, why don’t you go back to trying to strangle yourself with your own pajama pants than try to diagnose me. Goodbye.” I said as I stood up with my cigarette. 

“Bitch.” She called after me. I stuck the middle finger behind myself as I walked. 

I walked over to the nurses table where the usuals sat. There was Trey, Mijo, and the unfamiliar guy that was in my room yesterday. I walked in on their conversation and sat on their red table. I was right next to Trey, sitting in the red stool to my left while Mijo stood along with the guy.