Who am i?
(Chapter 1)
15-years-old, long, dark hair that's constantly pressed between the hot irons of my straightener, blue eyes, and currently a patient in a mental facility. No, I have no idea why I'm here. My parents say it's for the best. My name's Liza Thimpleton but a few doctors here call me Veronica. Even the doctor who does daily check-ins with me sometimes slips and calls me Veronica. That's another thing I have no clue about, it's really annoying though. I guess I must resemble a past patient that was known throughout the hospital. Whatever though, i stopped caring after the third week.
I do the same thing everyday; sit in my room and wait for food which is always brought to me by doctor Catherine Chin. She has long, straight black hair, big brown eyes, and perfect skin almost like those women you see in make-up commercials.
"Here's your food sweetie." Dr. Chin handed me a blue lunch box decorated with white flowers. Inside was a bowl of corn mixed with potatoes, an oatmeal cookie, a water bottle, and a jelly sandwhich. "Dr. Chin, why can't I eat with the other patients?" An irritated look creeps into her eyes because I ask this question daily. "There's plenty of other things we could talk about." I guess she's right. "So... What's the world like outside, is the grass still green? Has the sky fallen yet?" She laughed outloud. "You've only been here for a month and a half! The world doesn't change that fast hun." She pointed out. "One and a half months and i still have my humor!" I joked.
But Dr. Chin's voice suddenly took on a serious tone. "That's the disappointing part about places like this. It seems to rip the soul right out of some people..." My eyes drop to the ground then up to the ceiling as if they were searching for words to say. "Dr. Chin, why am i still here?" Her face kind of drooped because she doesn't have a good answer for me and we both know that. "I could tell you but you'd just get frustrated. Here's the deal; I'll ask the head doctor if one day i can show you the tapes of some of your observations. You'll understand then. Now eat your lunch and I'll be back later." And so she scurried out before i could say anything.
I started to pick at my food. The corn and potatoes looked as if they had been chewed then spit back out by one of the other patients. I decided against eating them. Next is the sandwhich. How many times can I eat this in a month? Pass. For now I'll nibble my cookie and drink some water until dinner is brought in. As I eat my cookie the overwhelming silence starts to really become noticeable and I feel as alone as ever.
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