Turning Point: Part 8

Fall into pairs like two ugly fish, too rare for extinction I know, the veins in your hand felt sort oflike summer, calm to the touch, on no, and my god how did we survive the paper scars, oh, bless the stars, you said you're sorryPaper scars, Lovedrug.

Raven's POV:

After dinner was community wrap up. We were supposed to share our name, age, and why we were here or something about ourselves. I basically zoned out until Cam touched me on the arm to get my attention. It was my turn. I didn't want to talk, so I started signing, Lizzie jumped in to interpret, omitting the curse words. There were only a few here for eating disorders, and several here for anxiety and depression with a few here for self harm and suicidal thoughts or actions. Well, that was educational. I went off on a signed rant about life in general, more or less.

After wrap up, I headed back to the room, Cam walked with me. It was almost 9 o'clock anyway, so I was headed to bed. I paced the length of the room while I put my hair into two braids. "I'm sorry, about the conversation earlier. I realize that I may have pushed too hard, I'll try not to do that again," Cam apologized. "Don't worry about it." I responded, quiet. I really couldn't find it in myself to just freeze him out, he was so kind and just bubbly and friendly. And I hadn't met anybody else like that in here.

"Just to be clear. You're not gonna freeze me out?" he asked, hesitant. "Can't find it in myself to do so," I said, shrugging. "Fair enough," he nodded. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Cam asked me after a moment, now knowing that I wouldn't ignore him. "Technically you just did ask me something, but as long as it's not anything related to why I'm here at Sick Minds, ask away," I answered.

That was the one thing I refused to say anything on in wrap up, I took the first and fourth amendments and said no comment. My name and age are one thing: anybody could find that info about me or figure it out relatively easily. But why I was here was really my business and not theirs. The first amendment was the right to free speech, or lack thereof. The fourth amendment is the right to protection from unreasonable search and seizure without probable cause and the right to privacy. The fifth is something about not being compelled to testify against yourself in court, so that really didn't apply here, but that prevented self-incrimination. Cam was here for a suicide attempt, apparently. He said that in wrap up.

"I call this place Sick Minds too, because ultimately that's why we're all here," He laughed. "Why, because of genius people who think that people like us need help when they're more sick minded than us?" I asked, dead serious. "Exactly. Now can I ask that question?" "Sure, ask away," I replied with a giggle. "Those symbols on Jayme's shirt, above her name tag... what do they mean? Do you know?" he asked.

I almost smiled, he had, albeit unknown to him, touched on one of my areas of knowledge. I had explained all this before many times, and loved helping the two worlds intersect. It was possible to walk the line and have a foot in each world, that's what I did. I had an uncle who was deaf, and my godparents were deaf as well. And I had been born deaf, so I had a cochlear implant.

"The one with the hands is called the signer's hands, meaning she can sign. The other one is the broken ear, meaning she's deaf or hard of hearing. I'm guessing she's been deaf since birth, that's why her voice is so high pitched and squeaky. She can probably read lips well enough to get by, but a little known fact is that even under the best conditions only about thirty to forty percent of speech can be seen on the lips," I explained.

I was slowly becoming more comfortable around Cam, slowly but surely. "Oh, wow. Thanks, I didn't know that." "Lizzie, another nurse, also has the hands. Hers has an I in the lower right corner, meaning she's a certified interpreter. The CM, if you look it's there, stands for conversational and medical. Those are the ASL types she is certified to interpret for. And she doesn't have the broken ear," I added.

"Where'd you learn all that?" He asked me curiously. "ASL was my first language, English is second. I have a cochlear implant, had that since I was two or three. My... my mom chose the implant versus letting me grow up nearly totally deaf. I've been thinking about having it taken out. I usually can get away with leaving the attachment piece off, I can hear a bit plus I learned to lipread to compensate for the fact that I don't use the attachment often," I paused, turning to show the bump created by the implant. "What was the first thing you heard with the implant?" he asked curiously. "The first thing I heard was the voice of my twin brother telling me he was glad I'd be able to hear now, that he loved me, and that he thought I was really strong going through all that," I answered.

"I also used to help teach a sign language class. The instructor was my deaf uncle, during the class I was his link to the hearing world. He teaches high school and college levels, I was able to skip foreign language completely this past school year because I tested out of ASL through level four so I'm completely covered. So during the foreign language periods they'd put me in a study hall and let me go to my uncle's class to assist him. Many of the students, especially in the first couple of levels, were complete beginners. They often asked questions they didn't know how to sign, so I either relayed them to my uncle myself or showed the student how to sign it. My godparents are also both deaf," I revealed. He smiled, sensing that I was opening up more. I still didn't trust him completely but it was getting there.

But his next question was still slightly unexpected. "Can you teach me some sign?" he asked. "Now?" I questioned. "If you want. I'm a major insomniac so I often don't sleep more than three hours a night on a good night," So that's why Foster asked if I was in insomniac. They must try to room people with specific issues together or something, because it can't be coincidence that I was roommates with another insomniac. "Is it coincidence that I was put in a room with another insomniac?" "I don't think so, they had asked me that when I first came here too, the only reason they put me in a double was because the singles were all in use, and by the time one came open they had found a roommate for me," Cam laughed. "We can stay up together then. I usually don't sleep much more than two or three hours, four on a good night," I said, walking over to his bed and sitting down beside him. He was clumsy at first but very enthusiastic.

Jayme peeked in on us at about eleven. "Weren't expecting me, Cam? Ruby's coming in late, stuck in traffic so I offered to stay until she got here. Can't sleep?" she spoke and signed. I shook my head no and spelled out 'insomnia' then pointed to myself. She signed pill and then sleep with a question mark. She was asking if I wanted sleeping pills. I shook my head no then signed won't work. She nodded and said don't short myself of sleep if I do get tired. Before she left, Cam signed to her a sentence. "Raven's helping me learn to sign!" he said excitedly, attempting to sign it but he completely botched it because he was excited and not focused. Jayme signed Wow in reply before she left us to our signing. "You'll like Ruby, she's the nurse who's here at night," Cam said to me.

It was almost 5:30 in the morning when we finally got tired out. Ruby had looked in on us three times. Ruby was an older woman who had graying hair and a sweet smile, and cool scrubs. The green uniform isn't really a uniform it turns out, the staff are free to wear printed scrubs if they want. By this point Cam had learned roughly fifty words in sign, the whole alphabet, and a little ASL grammar. "I'm far from professional, but you're a good teacher Raven," he said, hugging me tightly. I leaned into the hug, he reminded me of Chris so much. It felt like I had Chris beside me. "Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning. Well, even though it is morning already." he murmured, laying down. I walked over to my own bed and fell asleep within a few minutes, a smile on my face.

Cameron's POV:

I was in the room just chilling, when Raven walked in. "I probably look like hell, don't I? No, wait, just don't answer that. I'm pretty sure I look just as bad as I feel," she sighed deeply, sitting on her bed with her back against the wall and her eyes staring off into space. "You don't look like hell, but you do look like you've been crying," I stated, glancing over her as I sat beside her. "I haven't," she countered almost immediately.

I looked her over for signs that she was or wasn't telling the truth. Damp hair, must have had a shower. Her blue eyes were red rimmed, like she had been rubbing at them or something. And visible tear tracks on her cheeks.... She was correct in her assumption that she looked like hell, but I didn't want to tell her that. She was also very pale, like vampire pale. I knew she was fair-skinned, but this was taking that to an extreme. Against the black of her hair, her face looked white.

My hands gently rubbed her forearms, trying to comfort her. I used one hand to sweep her fringe back; she flinched and swatted my hand, letting the hair fall back into place. It wasn't much time but enough for me to see the bruising under her eye as well as the discolored patchy skin on her forehead and eyelid, the patchy discoloration was in the area around her eye going from her cheekbone up to her hairline.

"Don't bother lying, Raven. You've been crying, haven't you?"

"Okay, so what if I have been crying?" she responded, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"Getting better and out of here is a hell of a lot easier when you actually talk to people. You can trust me,"

"Trusting people is what got me in this wretched place," She snaps.

"You're going to have to trust someone at some point. Humans rely on other humans in times of need. It's just how we as humans are programmed. What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," she said, her eyes darted upwards and anywhere but to my face. I knew, she was lying. I hoped she knew nothing about the way investigators conduct interrogations, because my next plan was to use an old cop trick. My grandfather was a cop, so I knew a lot of the tricks.

"How did it feel, when you were at your worst?" I asked her, pulling the topic switch. I should have known it wouldn't work.

"Don't do that," she scolded, frustration evident in her tone. "Do what?" I ask, pretending I have no idea what she's talking about. "The sudden topic switch. My aunt's a detective, that's a cop trick that's used during interrogations," she said. Damn it, she knew the cop tricks.

"Seriously, how did it feel when you were at your worst?" I pressed. "Do I really have to answer that?" she questioned. "No, but I think it might help if you do," I tried. She rolled off the bed, sitting down on the floor over by the wall and splitting her legs, leaning forward until her upper body touched the floor. Okay, so she was flexible. Right when I thought she wasn't going to answer, she started talking.

"It felt... like a million knives, leaving cuts on my heart. But then it's like my heart was soaked in acid, making the cuts sting," she said slowly in a tone so low it was almost a whisper; letting a slight flash of something show through. Not much, but this was progress. "Do you ever want to feel like that again?" I asked her gently, she shook her head.

"Don't bottle up your emotions. Talk to somebody. What's wrong?" "I was just thinking in the shower, okay? Learn to take a freaking hint, I don't want to talk right now! Jesus Christ, Cam! " She said, exasperated. "Fine, I'll back off for now. Seriously, think about that for a while. You know where to find me, if you happen to change your mind and decide you do want to talk," I said to her, walking out.

I went to the rec room to hang out while she contemplated that. A couple games of chess, checkers, and even Chinese checkers before I got bored. There were a few activities going on, so I joined the group that was doing yoga with an orderly in the corner of the room. I glanced up a few minutes later, finding Raven sitting watching the yoga session. I was silently asking her to come join and each time she shook her head no. She did watch, though. I didn't push it, considering the circumstances I thought that wouldn't be the best idea. Besides, she was probably still mad at me from the lovely little conversation we had.

After dinner, we had community wrap up. We were all asked to share our name, age, and why we were there. Raven startled as I nudged her gently, she signed and Lizzie spoke. Raven argued the first and fourth amendments when it came to why she was here. The right to free speech, she explained, included the right to not speak at all. Meaning nobody could force her to talk about any given topic. The fourth amendment was something about the right to privacy. Let's just say wrap up was very educational, she went off on a signed rant about the constitution and how people were trying to violate her constitutional rights.

After wrap up, I joined her and we walked to the room together. It was almost 9 o'clock now, too early for sleep. I watched her pacing the length of the room as her fingers braided and knotted her hair. "I'm sorry, about the conversation earlier. I realize that I may have pushed too hard, I'll try not to do that again," I apologized. "Don't worry about it." she responded, quiet. This was a good thing, I said to myself. She was talking to me, she hadn't gone silent and frozen me out.

"Just to be clear. You're not gonna freeze me out?" I questioned, hesitant. "Can't find it in myself to do so," she said, shrugging. "Fair enough." I nodded. "Hey, can I ask you something?" I asked her a moment later. "Technically you just did ask me something, but as long as it's not anything related to why I'm here at Sick Minds, ask away," she said. Well, that was blunt. I think I know at least part of the reason why she's here, anyway. But I must say I liked the way she thought.

"I call this place Sick Minds too, because ultimately that's why we're all here," I laughed. She tilted her head, a spark in her eyes.

"Why, because of genius people who think that people like us need help when they're more sick minded than us?" She asked, dead serious.

"Exactly. Now can I ask that question?" "Sure, ask away," she replied.

"Those symbols on Jayme's shirt, above her name tag... what do they mean? Do you know?" I asked her. She perked up a little, answering the question easily. "The one with the hands is called the signer's hands, meaning she can sign. The other one is the broken ear, meaning she's deaf or hard of hearing. I'm guessing she's been deaf since birth, that's why her voice is so high pitched and squeaky. She can probably read lips well enough to get by, but a little known fact is that even under the best conditions only about thirty to forty percent of speech can be seen on the lips," she explained, blue eyes sparkling. "Oh, wow. Thanks, I didn't know that." "Lizzie, another nurse, also has the hands. Hers has an I in the lower right corner, meaning she's a certified interpreter. The CM, if you look it's there, stands for conversational and medical. Those are the ASL types she is certified to interpret for. And she doesn't have the broken ear," she informed me.

"Where'd you learn all that?" I asked her. "ASL was my first language, English is second. I have a cochlear implant, had that since I was two or three. My... my mom chose the implant versus letting me grow up nearly totally deaf. I've been thinking about having it taken out. I usually can get away with leaving the attachment piece off, I can hear a bit plus I learned to lipread to compensate for the fact that I don't use the attachment often," She paused, brushing her hair back away from her right ear, pulling her bangs forward and the rest back to show her ear. I saw the bump created by the implant right behind her ear. "What was the first thing you heard with the implant?" I asked curiously. "The first thing I heard was the voice of my twin brother telling me he was glad I'd be able to hear now, that he loved me, and that he thought I was really strong going through all that," she answered.

"I also used to help teach a sign language class. The instructor was my deaf uncle, during the class I was his link to the hearing world. He teaches high school and college levels, I was able to skip foreign language completely this past school year because I tested out of ASL through level four so I'm completely covered. So during the foreign language periods they'd put me in a study hall and let me go to my uncle's class to assist him. Many of the students, especially in the first couple of levels, were complete beginners. They often asked questions they didn't know how to sign, so I either relayed them to my uncle myself or showed the student how to sign it. My godparents are also both deaf," she revealed another bit of personal info. I smiled, sensing that she was opening up more.

"Can you teach me some sign?" I asked. "Now?" she questioned. "If you want. I'm a major insomniac so I often don't sleep more than three hours a night on a good night," "Is it coincidence that I was put in a room with another insomniac?" she wondered. "I don't think so, they had asked me that when I first came here too, the only reason they put me in a double was because the singles were all in use, and by the time one came open they had found a roommate for me," I laughed. "We can stay up together then. I usually don't sleep much more than two or three hours, four on a good night," she said, walking over to my bed and sitting next to me. She quickly got to it, starting with the alphabet. Her tiny hands felt slightly rough on mine as she helped me fix my hands into the positions.

Jayme peeked in on us at about eleven. I think she was doing a double shift or something, normally it was Ruby on the night shift. "Weren't expecting me, Cam? Ruby's coming in late, stuck in traffic so I offered to stay until she got here. Can't sleep?" she spoke and signed. Raven shook her head no and spelled out 'insomnia' then pointed to herself. Jayme signed something, it looked like she was taking a pill then sleeping. Raven responded, something then work. Jayme nodded and signed something else. I attempted to sign to Jayme, telling her that Raven was helping me learn to sign. I spoke as well, because clearly my signing was half unreadable. She signed wow before leaving us to our signing. "You'll like Ruby, she's the nurse who's here at night," I said to Raven.

It was about 5:30 in the morning when we started getting tired. Ruby had checked on us twice. I had at this point learned roughly fifty words in sign, the alphabet, and a bit of ASL grammar. By the time we finished, there was something in Raven's eyes that was different from earlier. Like a sparkle, a small flicker of hope. She had spoken about helping her uncle teach sign language, from the way she spoke I'm pretty sure that was a good memory for her. I get the feeling that she doesn't let herself access many good memories often. Maybe that would be her key to getting better. Letting herself access those memories and finding hope.

"I'm far from professional, but you're a good teacher Raven," I said, hugging her tightly. She leaned into the hug as I tightened my arms around her. "Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning. Well, even though it is morning already." I murmured, laying down. I heard her settle on her own bed as I drifted off to sleep.