oblivion - nathan prescott

the white room.

I was sick of this place. Sick of the goddamn white linoleum floors and plain walls. Sick of the people. Sick of the medication, and sick of the fucking groups.
Today was Tuesday, which meant it was group day and I was taking my time walking there, my feet were tired from walking across the cold floors and my footsteps echoed throughout the hallways. The bright fluorescent lights gave me a headache when I first got here, but now that I have been here 6 months, they were just like day light to me.
"Morning Elizabeth," Nancy smiled,
"Hi," I smiled. She was my favourite nurse, well, she was the only one who snuck me in chocolate cookies and listened to me when I was broken.
"Are you off to group?" She asked, she already knew the answer, she was just wanting conversation. I smiled,
"Yeah, hopefully today's my last session," I sighed and then lowered my voice, "I can't deal spending another hour with them,"
Nancy laughed,
"You'll be out before you know it," She patted me on the back and then left. The door was coming up on the left so I slowed down my paces and took my time, a few people entered the room and I could hear them pulling chairs across the floor and sitting on them. I approached the door and walked inside, it was a large spacious room, the chairs set up in a circle in the middle, half full, as usual. I was sick of seeing it. I pulled a chair out and sat down,
"Elizabeth, you're here," The counsellor sighed, "3 minutes late," Mr. Watson was always an asshole.
"I really couldn't care less to be here, at the moment," I sighed,
"It's your last session and you're on good behaviour so you better watch yourself." His deep voice echoed throughout the room and bounced back into my ears multiple times, enough to make me want to be sick.
He babbled on for the next 20 minutes about how we, as young people, should value the time we have on this earth. I would need five hands to count the amount of times I rolled my eyes.
"Elizabeth, what are your plans when you leave!" Emily called out halfway through Mr. Watson's sentence, he groaned,
"Emily! I am talking-"
"I plan on getting the fuck out of this miserable town, Emily," Her face lit up, she had been here three years and there was no sign of her leaving any time soon. Poor thing.
"Good luck," A raspy voice came from the other side of the circle. I looked across from Emily's beaming face,
"Excuse me?" I retaliated, sitting up in my chair and crossing my arms, he looked up,
"I said, good luck. This town is like a fucking vacuum, once you're in Arcadia Bay, you can never leave Arcadia Bay."
"I don't think I need you telling me what I can and can't do, Prescott," My face heated with anger,
"I mean, just look at Rachel Amber as a shining example, she tried to leave and failed, miserably," He spoke with no remorse. My hands gripped the edge of my chair in an attempt not to rip his goddamn head off, "A real shame, really. What a life wasted," I stood up.
"How fucking dare you speak about her like that!" I forcefully spoke, "She was nothing but a glowing light in this fucked up place. God, you're such a fucking prick, Nathan!" I yelled, he chuckled, his blue eyes stared into mine,
"We mustn't be talking about the same person then." He smirked. My fists bunched up and my nails dug into the palms of my hands, Don't fucking hit him, you need to get out. I took a deep breath and at back down in my chair, my eyes glared into his, he smiled and looked back down.
"Elizabeth, that's a strike. I'd been careful, this is your last session, you don't want anymore do you?" Mr. Watson finally spoke up,
I rolled my eyes,
"No, you're absolutely right."

I breathed a sigh of relief when the group started to stand up and leave the room, I rushed my way out of the room and made my way down the hall,
"Nancy, has she rung?" I asked, my voice full of hope. She rung once a week and I was hoping that she knew I was getting out soon.
"Not yet, sorry Beth," She smiled remorsefully, "Come back later?" I nodded, trying to force a smile through,
"Yeah...Of course," I began to walk back to my room. The hallways were long, doors littering either side of the walls leading into bedrooms and counselling rooms, the fluorescent lights flickered across the floors, my eyes began to sting- a side effect of the dumb medication I was on. I mean, it stopped the attacks, but fuck, did it bring on so much more, irritability, insomnia, nausea, dry skin- I couldn't wait to get out of here and not be forced to take that shit every day.
I opened the door to my room and flopped myself onto my bed, and took a deep breath. I tried to slow my heart down, but that only made me feel like I was going to be sick, so I rolled myself over onto my stomach and screamed into my pillow. I felt my breath heat up the pillow and radiate onto my cheeks, the air got stuck in my lungs and hot tears began pooling onto the pillow, I choked air in and out of my body as I tried to calm myself down.
Three knocks at my door snapped me out of my fit of rage, I quickly sat up and wiped the tears off my cheeks, "Come in," I spoke, Nancy walked in,
"She called," I smiled widely and quickly got off my bed and walked up to her,
"Can I talk to her?" I spoke, my voice full of hope, Nancy nodded,
"Come with me," and with that I followed her down the hall and into her office where she picked up the phone and handed it to me.
"Mum," I smiled, tears brimming my eyes,
"Darling, how are you?"
"I'm okay," My heart was in my throat and I wanted to cry, "How are you?"
"Good, I'm good,"
"How's San Fransisco?" My mum had moved there three months before the accident and was heartbroken when she was unable to come home. Dad sent me off to this hole while he looked after his new girlfriend. He's called me once.
"Really well. Some of my art got put up in a gallery here," She beamed and then inhaled deeply, "Has he called?"
"No," I scoffed, "I'm not going back to him, mum," I sat down in the chair, knowing this was going to be a long conversation,
"I understand, honey," She was concerned, "I'm sorry I can't be there with you. I'll see what I can do for you, okay? I'll try talking to him." There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "Maybe just call him?"
"I've got to go, mum. Group." I lied, "Love you, speak soon." I hung up the phone and left the room.

The air was crisp on my arms, and tingled my fingers as I bought the cigarette up to my lips and inhaled the smoke. The sky was getting dark, the orange leaves on the ground becoming black shadows,
"Smoking will kill you, you know," Someone spoke, making me jump slightly, I turned around,
"What are you doing here? Don't you have a home to return to?" I groaned. Nathan's father couldn't bare having his son sent to a mental institution, so instead nurses were sent to his house, paid, of course. He came to group once a week for social interaction.
"Dad hasn't sent the driver yet, I'm stuck here another hour,"
"What a shame," I scoffed. Nathan sat down next to me, his cologne wafting over the cigarette smoke and into my lungs, the soft cinnamon scent hazing my sight for a moment. He pulled out a stick of tobacco and bought it up to his lips and lit it, "Smoking will kill you, you know," I spoke sarcastically, making him roll his eyes.
"I know," He breathed out, smoke pouring out of his mouth, "When are you getting out?" He asked, my eyebrows scrunched together,
"When did you start caring?"
"I don't."