The Broken Bottle

Chapter 6

Unwell

Daniel leaned against the wall, eyeing the small girl that stood infront of him. What, he wondered, has snapped inside of her mind? What lead her to try and find me? The letter hardly seemed worthy. Cerah drummed her fingers on her arm, What is he thinking? she asked herself, Why is he just staring at me? For three long moments, the entire room was silent, save for the clock on the wall that kept tick tick tick-ing away. Cerah cleared her throat, "So, um, are you...?" 

"Mental?" Daniel replied, finishing her sentence, "Mad? Bonkers? Why, not in the slightest." 

That's exactly what a mental person would say. Cerah thought, bitterly. 

"Did you know that you talk aloud when you think?" Daniel pointed out, Cerah looked at him in horror "What?" she questioned, he rolled his eyes "I believe my sentence was rather self-explanitory," he replied, "I noticed it just a moment ago. That is why I was staring." 

"Well then, if you aren't mental, what are you doing here?" Cerah looked at him, making a guesture at the large sign that stood outside the window, stating where they were. "Ah, I was waiting for you to ask that," Daniel chuckled to himself, Cerah waited for him to explain. "You see, that is a very short question with a very long answer, so I'll spare you most of the sob-story and cut to the chase, almost. I was stuck in this really rough patch in life back in 2010, you see, and I was living in America with my mother and younger sister at the time. My mother told me, after countless nights of her having to talk me down from bridges and coaxing me out of the house, that if I could get even just a little bit better, I could live with my father-who left us when I was 13- here in England. I ended up getting better and before I knew it I had a one-way ticket to London and I didn't look back.

" But then 2011 rolled around and my dad got married again- to a woman 15 years younger then he was, mind you. The depression came back, hitting worse then before, and I stopped going out of my room. I stopped eating. I wouldn't talk to anyone, well, save for myself that is," Daniel paused, looking at the confusion on Cerah's face, he rolled his eyes again, "Yes, I used to talk to myself- Emphasis on used because I don't anymore, not since the letters." Cerah nodded, willing him to continue the story of how he landed in the Brakenstein Home for the Mentally Deranged.

"Anyway, in 2012, on the twenty-first of December- a Saturday, my father had enough of me. He was convinced that I had gone crazy. The following Tuesday-Christmas day, I believe it was, my father and his new wife dropped me off here, with all my belongings. Not once have they been back.

And so, I'm stuck here, even though I am not mental." 

 Cerah ran a hand through her hair, trying to comprehend everything that she'd just been told. "So, let me get this straight," she said, " you're not mental but you're living in a mental hospital?" Daniel nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it wasn't, obviously. " Okay then," Cerah sighed, " this was, erm, interesting. To say the least, but I should get going." With a nod, Cerah turned and walked back to the door. "Hey, Cerah," Daniel said before she could leave, she turned around, "What?" she sighed, "Thank you...f-for taking the time to find me, a-and actually listening to me. No one does that anymore." "It was no problem. Really." she replied. Daniel smiled. 

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"So, how'd it go?" Karrin asked as they walked back to the car, Cerah shrugged, "It was...different." she answered, Karrin raised an eyebrow, "Different as in good or...?" 

"I'm not entirely sure." Cerah said, more to herself then to anyone else. "Karrin, what would you do if I told you I didn't think he was crazy?" 

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Oh golly, I'm sorry that it took so long to upload this chapter! It's kind of a filler chapter so it may not be the best, and I appologize if it didn't live up to your guys' standards, but hey, at least it's up. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Have a great day!(Or night, really)  ~Rebekka Mae