Connor watched Liv follow some girl back to their table.
"Woah, buddy. You alright, man?"
He tore his gaze away from Liv and face Kris, who was frowning. "Huh?"
Kris tilted his chin in Connor's direction. "Your eyes. You look ready to kill someone."
"Oh." Connor blinked a few times, trying to relax his eyes. He glanced down at his tray, trying to focus on his food. He glumly poked his spoon in the egg yolk, causing a gush of yellow to spread on the white part. He began spreading the egg yolk on the whites absentmindedly, not realizing what he was doing until he hear Kris sneeze.
"Um, I'm done." Connor stood up from his seat, grabbing his tray. "Can I go back to my room now? I want to take a shower."
Although he looked surprised at the sudden change, Kris also stood up. "Sure, if you want. Let's go." He led Connor to the conveyor belt leading to the kitchen and watched him place his tray down before walking them out.
"Wonder if he's going back to Level One."
"Probably . . . never mind. They turned left."
Connor raised his chin a little higher, trying to act like he hadn't heard the two guys talk. He had learned a long time ago that snapping back at them only made things worse for him. Besides, they would only have more to talk about if he reacted in any way. However, the other part of him hoped that someone would find out what they were saying and stop them. Connor had considered bringing it up to Owen or Dr. Engel once but had decided against it. Although being at Auxilius meant he shouldn't have any secrets between he and his doctor, something stupid called pride blocked his way. Truthfully, he only had a small fraction of his pride to begin with, anyways, but this didn't mean he wanted to lose all of it.
What a stupid thing to have, Connor thought bitterly to himself as he and Kris walked up the stairs in silence. Pride, dignity, reputations to uphold. At this last thought, anger towards himself shifted to anger towards his parents as he remembered when he first heard of Auxilius.
"What is this place? What am I doing here?" Connor opened the window separating him and his chauffeur, Evan.
Evan only stepped out of the driver's seat and opened the door Connor was sitting next to. "Please get out, Mister Walsh. Your parents told me to bring you here. Please wait while I unload your luggage."
"My what?" Connor stepped out dumbly, still unsure of what was going on, as Evan promptly shut the door and went to the trunk, pulling out a suitcase from there. Connor's eyes narrowed when he saw the name written on the tag. "Why is my bag coming out of there?"
"Hello there, you must be Connor Walsh."
Connor automatically stiffened at the female voice. Without turning around, he ran to the opposite side of the car, still facing away from whomever had spoken. He made his way next to Evan and gripped his sleeve tightly.
"What the hell am I doing here?" he asked in a low tone. "Who is that woman, and how does she know my name? What does she want with me?"
Instead of answering Connor, he turned around to face the female. "Could you please give us a few minutes?" he asked her. "We'll go inside later. And please ready a male nurse, instead. Thank you." When Evan was satisfied, he sighed and turned his attention to Connor.
"I'm sorry, Mister Walsh, for not being able to tell you in advance. This is Auxilius, a care center. Your parents believed it would be best for you to stay here for a while, so you can get . . . treated."
"For what?" Connor asked, although he thought he knew the answer. When Evan didn't answer, Connor took a guess. "They don't want me to be near them. If other people found out what happened to me, they would talk. That's why my parents accepted the settlement fee from the bitch's family. That's why I got kicked out to here, so I can't be there to spoil everything for them."
"We should go inside now, Mister Walsh. The nurses will be waiting."
His response was all Connor needed.
"I'll be right out here," Kris suddenly said, bringing Connor out of Memory Land. They were standing in front of Connor's door. "You know the drill; if you need me, just holler."
Connor nodded, forcing a small smile on his face. "Right. Thanks." He then quickly slipped into the safety of his own room, heading straight for the bathroom. He just wanted to take a cold shower and forget about the people in his past.
* * * * * * * * * *
After his shower, Connor went to his desk and pulled out his coloring book and color pencils. He had first laughed when Dr. Engel had first suggested Connor try it; coloring was for babies, after all. However, the more Connor colored, the more relaxed he became. Now, whenever he had free time, such as now, he would color.
The bell rang a few minutes after Connor had started, signalling the end of Breakfast, for those who weren't in their rooms. He focused on trying to stay in between the dark lines, blocking out any other notes. However, his concentration was wavering today, and he wasn't sure why. He glanced up at the clock; it was only two minutes after nine. He had twenty eight minutes before Mail Hour, or, as everyone really called it, Thirty Minutes of Free Time, ended. Some people actually did write to friends or family, and many people received letters from them, but Connor hadn't been included in either. So, it was quite surprising when a nurse knocked on Connor's door and entered the room.
"A letter for Connor Walsh!" The nurse whose name Connor couldn't recall had a too-cheerful look on his face as he placed an envelope on Connor's desk. "Is there any letter you're done writing?"
"I don't do that stuff," Connor said as he reached for the envelope. The address on the top left corner was familiar to him.
"Well, if you change your mind, just ring the bell and I or someone else will come. Have a nice day!"
"Okay," Connor muttered, not looking up from the letter as the nurse left the room. He traced the lettering on the writing that said his name.
The letter was from the place he had to call home, but who exactly was it from? Evan? His parents?
In the end, Connor flipped the envelope over and tore at the flap. He had nothing better to do, and it would feel nice to have something that wasn't in Auxilius. He took out the neatly written letter and began reading.
My son,
I hope you are well. It has been three months, so I hope some progress has been made with your condition. You should understand why your mother and I cannot visit you in person. While you're there, please try to get better as quickly as possible. Your mother keeps trying to convince me to being you back, but it can't be done until you are completely healed. Also, you are not a young child anymore, and it is time for you to prepare working at Walsh Electronics & Co. for both your and our sakes. For your mother, and family business and reputation, try to come home quickly.
Your father,
Kevin Francis Walsh
As soon as Connor finished reading, he tore the letter into as many pieces as he could, until a pile of ripped up paper sat on his desk. What had he been expecting from the letter? What had he been expecting from his family? They didn't understand anything. They didn't understand what it meant to care. They didn't understand that there were more important things in life than a good reputation. All they knew was how to keep a business going, regardless of who got hurt in the process.
He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. Getting pissed would only make him go back to Level One, and no one would benefit. He tried to go back to his coloring, but he kept remembering what had happened after he had been forced to follow the nurse into the institute.
"Here, we have three Levels," the nurse explained loudly, although Connor just barely heard him. He was still seething at the betrayal of his parents. Then again, it wasn't the first time Connor was feeling this way.
"They are Level One, Level Two, and Level Three," the nurse continued. "Level Two is where most patients are; you'll see them wearing green scrubs. Level Three is where you will be staying, I believe. It's on the third floor, for the, ah, more special cases. They wear red scrubs, and aren't allowed anywhere without a chaperone."
Joy, Connor thought as he rolled his eyes. Actually, on second thought, that didn't sound like such a bad idea; there would be a lower chance of people trying to get near him and take advantage of him. Now, as long as the chaperones weren't going to be like that. . . .
"Behind these doors is Level One." The nurse stopped at two black double doors that stood out against the white walls. "This is where you will stay if you're caught doing something you're not supposed to. This includes not eating if you're anorexic, doing self-harm if you're in here for that, or other. You can also be sent here if you act out, in general. Do you have any questions so far?"
Of course he had questions. However, he wasn't going to ask any of them. That would mean he was interested in their conversation, and Connor was feeling anything but.
"Alright, then, let's head over to the cafeteria, which is this way."
As Connor followed the nurse to the right, a loud bell suddenly rang, causing him to flinch visibly. In a second, swarms of people flooded the hallways, people of different age, race, and gender, laughing and talking.
In real life, Connor accidentally swiped his color pencil across the page, causing a dark red to go through the black lines. He looked up at the clock as he the bell's ring faded away. Owen would arrive soon and take him to Dr. Engel.
As if on cue, someone knocked three times on the door, waited three seconds, then opened the door.
"Hey, Connor," a smiling Owen said. "Let's go."
Connor smiled back as he stood up. "Sure."
As Connor and Owen walked to the side staircase, they passed Nathaniel Lewis, another member on Level Three. He was scratching a fingernail against the wall, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath. Next to him was one of the doctors, trying to console him.
Connor slightly quickened his pace. Nathaniel had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and he had been sent here after trying to kill a fellow student for reasons Connor didn't know or want to know. Although Connor knew he was being terrible and a hypocrite for listening to rumors, he couldn't help himself. It was why he could understand where the other kids were talking about when it came to him.
"How are things?"
Connor turned his attention to Owen, thankful he decided to start a conversation.
"Best as it could get for me, I suppose," Connor said with a shrug. "What about you, though? We never talk about you."
An unfamiliar expression passed over Owen's face, making Connor wonder. The pair had only ever talked about Connor, so he knew almost nothing about Owen's life. What did the face mean?
"It's the usual for me, too," Owen replied. His voice sounded normal at first, but Connor heard something else when he reviewed the answer. Suddenly, Connor wanted to know everything he could about Owen's life.
"We always talk about me, let's talk about you for a change." Connor snuck a glance at Owen, but his expression didn't change, so Connor took this as permission to continue. "You've heard me bitch about my family, for instance. What's yours like? Any siblings?"
Instead of answering Connor's question, Owen jerked his head forward.
"I see Dr. Engel's door up there. Be prepared to talk a bit more about yourself."
Connor frowned. Why did Owen refuse to say anything about his family? Was he perhaps . . . No, he and Eliza looked nothing alike, they couldn't possible be related.
As if able to read his mind, Owen suddenly stopped and placed a hand on Connor's left shoulder.
"Hey," Owen said in a low voice. "You trust me, right?"
Yes. However, Connor couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Owen sighed as Connor couldn't give an answer.
"Look, I promise I'll tell you everything there is to know about me," Owen said with an unusually serious look on his face. "Right now isn't the time for me. You know how you don't like talking, sometimes? That's how I feel right now."
"Just answer this one question." Connor had to know the answer to this. Owen's answer to this one question would make Connor decide whether he trusted Owen or not. "Do you know Eliza?"
Owen immediately shook his head. "I had never heard of her before you told me about her. I've never seen her in picture or in person, she is not a member of my family. If I ever did see her, it was through pure coincidence. Believe me, Connor."
Connor nodded; Owen wasn't lying. His nostrils usually flared a little when he did, and they hadn't increased in size as he had spoken.
"Alright," Connor said. "But only because the other means there's only one person in this world, who I absolutely trust."
Owen smiled. "Right. Now, Dr. Engel has been standing at his doorway, staring at us for a while" -- Connor looked where Owen was pointing and saw that he was right -- "so we should go there now."
"Too late, he's walking over here."
"Connor, you're not planning on ditching me, are you?" Dr. Engel joked. "Remember, this isn't high school."
Connor gave a sheepish grin as he remembered his old high school antics.
"Don't worry, we were just talking," Owen replied, laughing. "Besides, Connor has the most responsible and reliable volunteer with him right now. Do you really think I would --"
"Dr. Engel! I think we're losing some precious counseling time right now," Connor interrupted, look at his bare wrist. "See you in forty-five minutes, Owen."
Connor had a grin on his face as he pushed Dr. Engel away from a smiling Owen, into his room. However, the smile dropped from Connor's face when he looked back and saw Owen's stormy expression. He really wanted to wait and trust his volunteer-slash-friend, but he also really wanted to know the secrets Owen was hiding from him.