Ten | newtmas

twenty nine

But, yeah. TIMI is great.

One of the only two good things about this place knocks on the door, and I jump, creating a line with my pen on my paper.

"Sorry, mind if I come in?" Thomas asks.

I take a deep breath, then put my journal down. "Sure."

He smiles briefly and walks in, sitting down on Chuck's bed. There's a few moments of silence, where I pick at my bed sheet and avoid looking at Thomas. It's awkward, and I'm not in the mood for awkward, so I'm about to pipe up and ask what he came in for when he breaks the silence first.

"How was therapy?" he asks. I look at him questioningly, but answer.

"The usual. He told me it's not normal for me to not want to be away from my parents while they're going through the most difficult time of their lives because of me. He asked about my foot and tried to get me to talk about how I felt while I was standing in the street," I say. "Oh, then he put me on yet another medication."

I look up in time to watch Thomas' face drop.

"He what? Did he say what kind of medication?" Thomas asks frantically, pushing himself off of the bed and quickly sitting on mine. He looks like I just told him I have a week to live, and my eyes go wide.

"No, I didn't ask and I don't really care—what's wrong? Why are you so freaked out?" I ask. His hands have begun shaking now, and he shakes his head too.

"Did he say when you start it? Did you take it already?" he asks.

I go to assume this is just an episode of his, but something tells me he's not being delusional right now. Maybe it's the clarity in his eyes or genuine alarm in his voice, but it gives me anxiety.

"No, I start it tomorrow," I say, and Thomas nods, his breathing rapid. "Tommy, what's going on? What's the big deal?"

"God, okay, okay," Thomas says, his mind clearly racing.

"What happened?" My attempts at getting any sort of explanation are completely ignored.

"Newt, I need you to listen to me," Thomas says. His gaze is intense and his voice is uneven, and he takes my silence as an invitation to continue. "At five o'clock, meet me in the rec room. I need you to trust me. No matter what, I need you to trust me."

I glance at the time. It's five past four now. What's going to happen between now and then that's so important? Why can't he tell me anything?

"What are we doing?" I ask hesitantly.

Thomas shakes his head vigorously. "I don't have time to explain, you just need to trust me and go along with anything I say or do. Will you do that for me?"

I don't have a real reason to trust Thomas. He's got hallucinations with no known cause, an unpredictable temper, and I don't really know anything real about him.

But then again, what have I got to lose?

Be careful with Thomas.

My good leg shakes in tens as I watch the clock. I wonder if it would calm me if my heart could beat in tens instead of the erratic way it's pumping right now.

Minho is grumbling something to Jeff, Zart is watching TV, and Fry is telling Chuck and Aris a story I'm pretending to listen to. My brain doesn't even attempt to comprehend any of the words leaving his mouth. It's got a lot of other things to worry about.

A normal person wouldn't be this anxious and stressed out over something that's most likely not a big deal. I'm not a normal person.

Finally, after waiting what feels like a million years, Thomas walks in. He doesn't look me in the eyes until he's crouching in front of my chair.

"Yell 'stop' and punch or kick me," Thomas says so quietly I almost think I'm imagining it.

"What?" I ask, matching his lowness.

He gives me a warning stare, but mouths the words 'I'm sorry'. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"Stop!" I yell, before using the foot without the cast to kick Thomas in the stomach. It's a very weak kick, to make sure I don't actually hurt him, but he flies back with the intensity of a punch to the gut.

Thomas screams and launches back at me, but by the time he's grabbed my shirt and delivered a missed punch to my arm, the nurses are on him and pulling him back. He makes a show of kicking and screaming at me and at them, and it's all I can watch as I'm being wheeled away by another nurse.

I don't know what I just agreed to, but I'm pretty sure I know how this story is ending.

Solitary.