"Strange times are these in which we live when old and young are taught falsehoods in school. And the person that dares to tell the truth is called at once a lunatic and fool." -Plato
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The minutes seem to be passing by at the speed of a unbeating heart and it is slowly killing me. The hunger clawing at my insides doesn't make it much easier either. With the aching hunger comes the lightheadness and the uncontrollable urge to vomit- even if it's possibly just air that I'm emptying out.
As the breakfast line moves along, I plop down the sticky, unappetising mush onto each inmate's tray, seeing the cringy looks on their faces.The hairnet over my head is itchy and every time I try to ignore the irritation, it only seems to be getting worse.
At first, I thought this would be easy. I told myself I could- and with no doubt in mind- let this day go by with absolutely no food. But now, it's just plain torture. Deep inside, I know I'm suppose to be grateful that at least it wasn't the real type of torture provided here.
All this time, I am deflated. I can't even give anyone in the breakfast line a single smile as they pass by. I simply look down into the abyss of a pot, stuck in my annoying, blank-minded trance when I feel a familiar warmth radiating above me.
It's like I know his essence by heart now. It's a honey-like, sugary feeling that rushes through my veins when the smile I thought I couldn't give appears on my face. I divert my gaze to him.
"Hey Harry," I say softly, scooping up the awful looking porridge. "Thanks for, you know...bringing me to bed last night."
He has a bored expression on his face, chewing gum in his mouth. "Yeah, sure." He shrugs idly. Feeling a little confused and turned down by his response, I nod unnoticably with pursed lips, putting the food onto his tray.
I am a little wounded, a sting in my chest as he moves along the line with no interest in my presence at all. Wasn't it just last night he was all cuddly and understanding? I'm afraid this isn't just a side effect of his disorder, maybe it's how he really feels now.
What if I was going too fast?
What if he thinks I'm some scaredy cat after last night?
What if he just isn't interested anymore?
What if-
"Harry!" I call out, causing him to turn around lazily; uninterested. "Want to go to the recreation room afterwards?"
He lifts his shoulders and drops them down yet again, causing my hope to evanesce. "I'm not really feeling it today."
Despite the slight sadness that overtakes me, I nod, swallowing down on the lump clinging in my throat. "I understand."
He nods at me stiffly before leaving. I watch him move through the swarm of inmates with ease, ignoring the giggling girls undressing him with their eyes and being absolute perfection as he swipes back the hair from his forehead and sits down at a secluded table.
"Ouch," Beth winces, moving forward in the line with her tray, watching as I serve the person before her. "What is up with him today?"
"I don't know." I sigh, scratching my palm over the irritating glove. "I think he's having one of his mood swings again."
Beth frowns. "The doctors decided to put him off his medication for a while and now I think it wasn't a good idea." I put the food on her tray, knitting my eyebrows.
"Oh? Why'd they do that?"
She shrugs. "Probably experimenting with him...they did that to another patient once and they actually got better. It gets risky sometimes, though."
I don't know why, but hearing this doesn't comfort me. I don't care if someone else got better because of it- the only thing that taunts me is that it's a risk. It causes my blood to boil. No one should ever be experimented with, especially with a boy who tried to commit suicide.
It's as if they want to push him to the limit.
Toy with his emotions.
Trigger his demons.
See how long he would last before he finally...snaps.
Just like that.
Something comes over me and I don't know what. Even though my eyes are wide open and I am as conscious as ever, I can picture scenes inside my head- feeling them as they are drawn before my eyes.
"No," Harry shouts, crippled to the ground of the corner of the tiny room that seems to be closing in on him. He is hunched over as his palms are pressed against his ears, tearing streaming down his face. "Make it stop, make the voices stop...please, I beg you."
Then, a flash.
I don't have a chance to respond when the bearded, scrawny man beside Beth coughs rudely. "See you later, Grace." Beth says quickly before moving aside.
"Yeah." I say quietly, my head still hurting from the images inside. Everything seems so vivid, so real- like I could just reach out and touch him.
There are only a couple handful of people left to be served. I put the food on their trays quickly before heading to the kitchen, dragging the enormous, empty pot along with me. The hairnet, apron and gloves are stripped from my being and I place them on the table neatly before walking out of the kitchen and to the dining hall.
Harry and Beth are at a table together, laughing and eating. He tosses his head back with the most adorable chuckle, his eyes crinkling. His face is glowing even though there is no window for lighting to pass through. His smile reminds me of what it's like to be happy and his positive mood seems genuine. I can't ever imagine someone trying to jeopardize that.
"Grace, come sit here!" I hear Beth holler, waving her hand as she spots me in the busy dining hall. I give a half-hearted smile as I walk towards the table slowly. The look Harry has on his face is enchanting- almost as if he's seeing me for the first time. His gaze follows me and I shyly look at him as well, taking a seat opposite of him and Beth.
"Where's your breakfast?" Beth asks me curiously. The heat rushes to my cheeks as I recall the events of the morning.
"Well it's kind of a complicated story." I laugh nervously, resting my hands on the table. My stomach is grumbling but thank goodness for the loud volume inside the dining hall. I can smell the food from here, and I'm ashamed to say that even that crap smells delicious all of a sudden. I try not to stare at Harry biting into his crisp, red apple.
Stop drooling, Grace.
But the funny thing is, I wasn't drooling because of Harry. I was drooling because of the apple.
"I'd love to hear your complicated story." Harry pipes up, his dimples appearing as he smiles at me like a child. I tell myself not to fall into one of Harry's mood traps, but I can't help but feel the fluttery feeling inside my chest.
Beth nudges me from across the table, winking and motioning to Harry when he looks away obliviously. Her immature gesture causes me to laugh, but I cover it up with a cough. "Yeah, Grace, we'd love to hear your super complicated story."
I rub my palms together, trying to ignore the crunching sounds of Harry's mouth as he savours his fruit. "Well, I got up really late this morning and I missed Bible Session." I leave out the part about the really long dream because that would be horribly embarrassing. "So the warden assigned me to serving and washing the dishes after breakfast and...no food the entire day."
I mumble the last part, trying not make them pity me but Harry has caught on. His eyes widen. "That's ridiculous." He scoffs. Looking at the apple in his hand, he holds it out to me. "You should've told me earlier so that I could have given this to you. I hope you don't mind that it's bitten."
I shake my head frantically. "Oh no, I didn't mean it that way, it's okay really, I'm fine, it's yours anywa-"
"I insist." Harry presses further and so I hesitantly accept it, taking a large bite of the fruit immediately. It's not a surprise that it's gone in less than five bites.
"See, I knew you were hungry." He smirks as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Thank you." I say softly, embarrassed that he has seen me so animalistic. Beth pushes her porridge towards me as well, insisting that I'd need the energy while they'd have two more meals after this. And of course, I thank her for her kindness.
Beth gets up from the table with her empty tray. "I'll be back, just going to use the restroom." She tells us, and Harry and I nod at her. Once she is gone, I turn back to Harry.
"So what are you planning on doing today?" I ask him, smiling fondly and admiring the way his hair falls above his eyes.
"I don't know, just sitting around I guess." He says, looking around the room, distraction flickering in his eyes. Never has he been so close, but felt so far away.
"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" I ask, genuinely concerned about the way his lips pale and eyes get glassy. It's an instinctive move for me to make as I reach out and touch his arm.
I just wish I hadn't.