Limbo

I smash the bathroom mirror, I don't care anymore. Nothing matters, we live for however long "god" decides and when we do die no one is going to remember us past maybe 15 years so why should I be the quiet, respectful person society wants of me. I want to go ape shit. I grab the paper towel holder and rip it out of the wall, It was shockingly easy. I hate it here the strict schedule 6am wake up, 7am, breakfast, therapy till lunch at noon, then back to therapy till bed at 10. Even the weekends are scheduled the same. You have to earn any freetime and even then its observed and structured. Two nurses run in, the plastic shards and blood flying all over the room as I continue to punch the broken holder. I punch until I can't anymore. Tears are streaming down my face. I sit and scoot myself to lean on the cold wall. Grounding myself.

"Are you done?" Asked the short stout nurse. His arms folded across his chest, a look of pure disdain. We call him "Pumpkin Man." He always wore orange scrubs, he had brown hair shaved into a buzz cut high fade, a short patchy blonde beard. His voice is high pitched for his stature. I say nothing and wipe the tears, glaring at Pumpkin Man. He makes no attempt to comfort me. I don't expect him to honestly. That's not how this place works I've been in and out of this places like this for years. They are supposed to come in and sedate you and take you to the "Calm Down Room" as they call it. a small concrete room with a single bed with straps they tie you to

There's a tall blonde nurse with him, she looks kind. That will change. She is tall, of course. She towers over Pumpkin Man, her hair reached just below her shoulders, she crouched to meet my gaze, which at this point settled onto a single crack in the white painted cinder block wall. This always happens after an outburst. My body and brain are so tired I just zone out. Her eyes are a soft blue, almost grey. Her face is soft and kind. That too will change.

"Come on, let's get you looked at, and cleaned up." she gently grabs my hand as I nod and stand. The bathrooms here are sort of into each of our rooms. small, bright and cold. No sharp corners, no locks, nothing you can hurt yourself with or on. We leave the room and get to the nurses station, a small room tucked away next to the heavily locked entrance of the unit. We aren't allowed shoelaces, hoodies.

I stare at my slippers as we get to the desk "I'm sorry." I say quietly breaking the silence. I was ashamed of my outburst. I always am. "That's alright, that's what we're here for." She smiled kindly. We finally arrive at the station. She gently lifts my hand do show the nurse. She is thin, almost too thin. She reminds me of Slender man. Only kinder, she lifted her face from the paperwork of the other residents, that's what were called here. Not patients. I asked why once, "Because you reside here until you get better." I was told. That answer pissed me off. The same could be said of normal hospital patients. Why aren't they called "residents"

"Hi Miss Jennifer." I say quietly after Slender Woman nudged me. "Hi, sweetie, what can I help you with?' Her face dropped from her normal bright face to one of concern and disappointment. "Oh, Parker... again?" I wanted to disappear. I'm so stupid, I can't control my anger... something children learn by the time they're what twelve, if that. "Yeah." I responded quietly hanging my head.

"Parker, you gotta work on that." I sighed. "I know you hate that answer, but honey, Thats why youre here.

"NO! I'M HERE BECAUSE NOBODY WANTS ME!" I SHOUT "GOD HOW STUPID ARE YOU PEOPLE!" I take a breath. "I'm sorry. Im still a bit upset." I lie. I give them what they want. I get what I want, and what I want is to get out of here, I have to If I play my cards right I will be 18 and I won't have to be sent to a group home they will just either kick me out or let me leave. My parents don't want me, My foster family doesn't want me. And I'm not going to another group home. What's the point. It's just a placeholder until I turn 18 and they kick me out to be on my own. A month. Just a month.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just know you will find a family that loves you." She seems genuine. Shame, she's a good one I'm gonna miss her.