The nurses trust me enough to let me out of the cell… for a little while. They herd me downstairs, into the brightly lit cafeteria. The colourful tables are arranged in circular patterns, and the tiled floor is swept clean. A woman wearing a hairnet stands behind a window-like structure, clutching a ladle.
I slink to the centre of the room and sit at a table. It is nearly empty, except for a girl who looks about my age. I smile a little and sit in the chair across to her.
“Hey. I’m Isabelle.” I say.
“Hi! Finally! It’s about time they let someone in here that I can talk to.” The girl replies, flicking a blond curl behind her back. “I’m Mona, by the way.”
“You’ve been here for a while?” I question.
She chuckles. “Quite a while.”
“I’ve only been here for a week, maybe. I lost track after the first few days.” I admit.
“This place can do that to you. It makes you crazier than you were on the first day.”
“Ugh. Great.” I pout sourly.
“You get used to it.” She shrugs. She tears through a piece of blueberry bagel.
“So… why are you here?” I venture.
“Well, the obvious reason. I made a few mistakes… that I’m not proud of.” She whispers.
“Same… I passed out while purging. They put me in the hospital and then freaked out so I wound up here."
She sighs heavily. It’s clear that she’s not going to say any more.
A nurse interrupts us. “Mona, it’s time to go back to your room.”
“Well, see you.” Mona waves. I smile because I’ve finally met someone in jail.
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It’s been two days since I’ve met Mona. I haven't spoken to her since we met.. So far my day has consisted of doctors, needles, and charts.
Dr. Joyce has diagnosed me with some kind of mental disorder. Fitting, right? I didn’t exactly catch the name of it, because I was zoned out. I’m sure he’ll tell me about it again.
Let the freak show continue…
Nice job.