Meeting new people . Forgetting people of the past.

Two characters meet. Two begin to think about their past.

Paul; my own little world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We kissed passionately under the rain.

The rain that pitter-pattered on the roof.

The roof of her house.

I miss Lucy.

I miss the way Lucy always smelt of strawberries.

Strawberries and kiwis.

I remember telling her one-day.

Before we kissed under the rain.

When we were at school.

At school in the library.

It was during study hall.

During study hall, which no one ever studied during.

I moved a strand of hair off her face.

Of her clear white face.

I breathed in the air.

The air in which you could feel the crisp winter breeze.

The crisp winter air and the warmth of the heater that rebels against it.

The air that smelt of strawberries and Kiwis.

The air that smelt like her.

“You smell good.” I noted.

She giggled.

Her giggle.

Her giggle was that of a schoolgirl.

Light, innocent, feminine, and yet uncontainable.

Uncontainable yet never ending.

She always laughed.

Always laughed because she was always happy.

Always happy so she always smiled.

Her smile full of teeth.

Full of white teeth.

Full rows of them.

But that was all before Rachel came.

Before Rachel came and took my Lucy away from me.

Told her things.

Told her things to corrupt her.

Rachel corrupted her.

Corrupted her so she wouldn’t listen to me.

Corrupted her so she would NEVER LISTEN TO ME.

I begin my breathing exorcises.

I am upset.

I am upset and Dr. Bow is sitting there patiently.

Dr. Bow is sitting there patiently and waiting for me to stop.

To stop thinking about Lucy.

Or to stop thinking about Lucy alone.

To start thinking about Lucy with her.

To trace after everything about Lucy with her.

I complete my breathing exorcises.

I complete them and I look at her.

I look at her and sigh.

I sigh and wait for her to say something.

She understands and smiles.

She begins reading her files.

Her files about everyone and me.

Every psycho in this place.

“Paul, has someone been upsetting you?”

I shake my head.

“Nawwh . Doc’. Not a one.”

I smile.

Some people would say my smiles’ pretty crazy.

Y’know. Unnatural like.

“Has Lucy.”

Now that stings.

I grab my heart.

Or where my heart should be.

She hasn’t said anything to me all morning.

You think she’s mad?

You think she’s mad because I’m thinking about Rachel.

Because I’m thinking about the ultimate evil?

“It’s alright Paul. Are you thinking about her Paul? Or are you thinking about that other girl Paul?”

“Yeah. Rachel. Her names Rachel.”

I feel embarrassed.

My eyes are watering and I feel embarrassed.

I am crying in front of her.

Am I crying in front of her?

But is that ok?

It must be ok.

She’s a doctor after all.

I hear the creak of her chair.

The chair creak and her footsteps.

Footsteps that lead to me.

She pats my back.

“Paul, you’ve made great progress. Paul, are you listening?”

I nod my head.

I am listening.

I am listening but my heart hurts too much to speak.

“I think that with the right medication you’ll be perfect and … well, not perfect Paul. Not perfect. But you will be normal.”

 I look at her.

I stare at her.

I have a chance at being normal?

Me?

“Now, I believe that Paul but what we need to do is make them believe us.”
Who’s them?

The big guy?

“How we need to do that is I need you to listen to me.

There is a new patient.

 There is a new patient and I want you to show her around.

She can join the school starting tomorrow.

 She isn’t very like you.

She does not have someone with her, in her head always.

She does not have that.

She doesn’t have a Lucy.

But she does have a problem.

 A problem with being alone.

Do you think you can help her Paul?

 Do you think you can help her and show her around? And take care of her Paul.”

“And that’ll make them think better of me.”

“Exactly, Paul.”

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Alright.”

She smiles at me.

The first thing I’ve ever noticed about her was when she smiles she has wrinkles that fold next to her eyes.

Crows feet.

They don’t ever make her look anything other than gorgeous.

Dr.Bow is beautiful.

Beautiful and nice.

Nice and supporting.

Everyone likes Dr. Bow.

“Hey, Is she the one with the bright red hair?

The dyed kind?”

She is still smiling.

“Her name is Grace, Paul.”

 

 

 

Grace; Meeting someone new.

 

 

 

 

 

A boy came into my room.

A boy just entered my room.

There’s always something you notice about someone the first time you see them.

Always something you like.

Or something you hate.

Or something that’s just, there, you know?

I notice his smile.

I like his smile.

It’s crazy and weird.

But it’s also big and innocent.

The way he smiles reminds me of a dog.

It reminds me off a dog, but that’s ok.

That’s ok because I love dogs.

I’m a dog person.

He came into my room with a caretaker.

A caretaker that I’ve already met.

Tony.

“Paul, you gonna sit there and stare at her all day or you gonna say something?”

He asked the guy.

I think he asked the guy.

He either asked the guy or me.

Because we’re the only people in the room.

He could have asked my bed.

But even if beds did have gender, I like to think I’m sleeping on a girl rather than a guy.

“I was getting there.” The boy said.

Paul said.

“‘Ello, I’m Paul. Though, you probably already know that. Because of this guy over here… What’s your name?”

“G-“

He stops me before I can answer.

“No, I’m joking, I already know your name. Hi Grace.”

 I don’t know what to do now.

“You can leave now Tony. I’m not going to bite her. Remember, I’m schizophrenic not a cannibal.”

“Hardy har har. Alright wise guy, I’m leaving.”

After he leaves the boy turns around.

Now I notice more.

More than just his smile.

His hair is long for one, not long as in hippie.

But just long.

His eyes are brown.

The color of chocolate.

I love chocolate.

I guess I love his eyes as well.

“Finally. I thought he’d never leave.”

He exclaims.

“You’re a Schizoid.”

“Yeowwch. That hurt”

I stare at him.

“Yeah, I am. It’s a very low case though. And, to my defense, my girlfriend did die. And they drugged me pretty heavily. I wont be having hallucinations for quite a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

 I sound like a robot.

I sound like a robot because I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry because I know nothing about death.

Nobody I know has ever died.

People have tried to get away from me.

Tried to get away from me.

That did hurt.

I repeat my apology, honest this time.

“I really, really am sorry.”

He smiles.

I love his smile.

“I love your smile.”

What was that?

What was that.

I thought out loud

I thought out loud and now he’s going to leave me.

The pain comes again.

The pain near my heart.

It comes and I close my eyes.

He’s going to leave me like everyone else in my life.

I think, who cares? I’ve only just met him.

But what I really want to do is run to block the door.

To block the door and to stop him.

To stop him from ever leaving me.

I open my eyes.

I open my eyes and he’s still there.

He’s still there and he’s smiling.

He’s smiling even wider.

“Thanks, I like your hair.”

Now I smile.

“Thanks.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Charlie;;    100

 

 

 

 

There are exactly 100 tiles on the ceiling.

I know there are 100 tiles because I’ve counted.

I’ve counted much too many times to remember.

There are 100 tiles and they are all made evenly.

All one hundred tiles are made evenly.

Except one.

So all 99 tiles are made evenly.

Except for one.

The odd one out.

That one is chipped.

There is a piece of it missing.

Just because of one incident.

The smallest incident.

That one is different.

That one is treated differently compared to the other tiles.

Treated as if handicapped.

As if handicapped by everyone.

Maybe even locked away to a safer place.

There are 100 tiles on the ceiling.

100 tiles and only one is different.

I am the one tile.

I am that one different tile.

Dr. Bow told me to take today and think.

So I’m thinking.

I’m thinking about everything.

Everything there is to think about.

I’m so out of thinking I begin thinking about the cleaning lady.

But is that so strange.

My nanny could be considered a cleaning lady.

The one with the hands.

The cleaning lady is nice here.

Nice, but could never be considered anywhere near Natasha.

Natasha the nanny.

Natasha the nanny in jail.

I start thinking about Angie.

Thinking about Angie and about my parents.

Angie is my baby sister.

Angie was born four years ago.

I wasn’t there when Angie was born.

I wasn’t there but my mom sent pictures.

My mom sent pictures in the mail.

Pictures in the mail and visits sometimes.

The visits stopped.

The visits stopped because every time my mom visited she hurt me.

She hurt me in a non violent way.

She would start crying.

Start crying and begging me to come back.

Tell me that the evil was gone now.

That the evil was gone and it’s ok.

But Dr. Bow said it wasn’t ok to go back yet.

It wasn’t ok to go back into that big empty house.

The big empty house with the staircase.

The staircase that twirled.

So, I watch my mom stand up.

Cover her face with her hands.

And leave.

Whenever my mom left she would take a little bit of my heart.

One day, my mom left for the last time.

I went to Dr. Bow’s office.

And I cried.

Dr. Bow helped me while I cried.

She told me that no matter what.

She would always be here for me.

I’m not ready to remember.

I’m not ready to forget.

I’m not ready to go home.