what she was in for. She was definitely a bit off the wall.
âCome on, you two.â A nurse ushered us to carry on down the corridor.
Caitlin rushed ahead, giving me a smug look as she went.
The dining room wasnât that big. There were a couple of blocks of tables with more of the blue chairs. I counted twelve patients. There were nurses in there supervising, too.
It was noisy, full of chatter, and everyone seemed to be behaving. Even though Caitlin was clearly mental, Iâd still not seen anyone staring at walls or gouging out their eyeballs and I was pleased.
I felt like the new kid, standing by the door and not knowing quite what to do.
âSit down, Adam,â one of the nurses said.
I sat down on an empty chair and in front of me there was a mouldy-green coloured beaker and plastic cutlery. In the middle of the table was a jug of water and some napkins.
Caitlin was sitting opposite me. A girl I didnât know was sitting next to her. We waited for a small white plastic plate of food to be put in front of us. It was a bit like being back in primary school.
It looked like tinned macaroni cheese with a very hard white roll on the side that was impossible to cut with our flimsy plastic cutlery. It didnât look the best, but I didnât care, I was starving. I put my head down to eat.
Laughter came from the corner of the room but I ignored it.
âBlake, what on earthâ?â
âBlake, take those off now,â someone said. I could tell it was a nurse; it was an adultâs voice. A chair scraped across the floor, shoes squeaking.
Caitlin kicked me in the shin.
I glared at her. I wasnât interested in what was going on. I just wanted to eat my dinner and get back to my room.
âLook,â she whispered, using her eyes to gesture behind her.
âThatâs enough, now.â The nurseâs stern voice echoed across the room and the room fell deadly silent.
Three tables down, a large, goofy-looking boy, about my age, was wearing a pair of pants on his head.
I recognised those pants. They looked like the SpongeBob SquarePants ones Jake bought me for my birthday as a joke.
I put my fork down. The nurse was struggling to get my carrier bag off Blakeâs lap. He wouldnât let it go.
âOh my God, Blake.â A voice cut through the silence.
A teenage girl was walking towards Blake, looking so bored and so pissed off. She was tall, pretty, and had short pixie-like hair. She was in baggy joggers and a hoodie that had London on the front; like the sort you get on the stalls up on Oxford Street.
âYouâre such a retard,â she said in Blakeâs face. âGimme the bag.â
He wouldnât budge.
âGive it to me,â she screamed in his face. He jumped and let go.
âJosie,â a nurse addressed her.
âDonât worry, Iâve got this,â she said.
She whipped the pants off Blakeâs head and walked towards me with a big smile on her face.
âYours, I believe?â She held out the bag.
My jaw was on the floor. She was amazing. She had more control over Blake than the nurses did.
âYou might wanna get these washed, though.â She put the pants in the bag. âDonât know where Blakeâs been.â She winked at me.
I held out my hand and she hooked the bag over my fingers, and sat down next to me.
âShowâs over, morons,â Josie shouted and the chatter returned.
I couldnât stop staring at her. I was totally mesmerised. I thought I was being a bit psycho, just staring, but she didnât seem to notice.
âI saw some scruffy-looking bloke bring that bag in earlier. I saw you on the list for therapy this afternoon, knew he was there, put two and two together, got four.â
I sort of smiled at her.
âWho was the bloke, your dad?â
I nodded.
âYou hate him?â
I nodded again.
âI hate mine, too, and my mum. They got me put in here,â
âCome on, you two.â A nurse ushered us to carry on down the corridor.
Caitlin rushed ahead, giving me a smug look as she went.
The dining room wasnât that big. There were a couple of blocks of tables with more of the blue chairs. I counted twelve patients. There were nurses in there supervising, too.
It was noisy, full of chatter, and everyone seemed to be behaving. Even though Caitlin was clearly mental, Iâd still not seen anyone staring at walls or gouging out their eyeballs and I was pleased.
I felt like the new kid, standing by the door and not knowing quite what to do.
âSit down, Adam,â one of the nurses said.
I sat down on an empty chair and in front of me there was a mouldy-green coloured beaker and plastic cutlery. In the middle of the table was a jug of water and some napkins.
Caitlin was sitting opposite me. A girl I didnât know was sitting next to her. We waited for a small white plastic plate of food to be put in front of us. It was a bit like being back in primary school.
It looked like tinned macaroni cheese with a very hard white roll on the side that was impossible to cut with our flimsy plastic cutlery. It didnât look the best, but I didnât care, I was starving. I put my head down to eat.
Laughter came from the corner of the room but I ignored it.
âBlake, what on earthâ?â
âBlake, take those off now,â someone said. I could tell it was a nurse; it was an adultâs voice. A chair scraped across the floor, shoes squeaking.
Caitlin kicked me in the shin.
I glared at her. I wasnât interested in what was going on. I just wanted to eat my dinner and get back to my room.
âLook,â she whispered, using her eyes to gesture behind her.
âThatâs enough, now.â The nurseâs stern voice echoed across the room and the room fell deadly silent.
Three tables down, a large, goofy-looking boy, about my age, was wearing a pair of pants on his head.
I recognised those pants. They looked like the SpongeBob SquarePants ones Jake bought me for my birthday as a joke.
I put my fork down. The nurse was struggling to get my carrier bag off Blakeâs lap. He wouldnât let it go.
âOh my God, Blake.â A voice cut through the silence.
A teenage girl was walking towards Blake, looking so bored and so pissed off. She was tall, pretty, and had short pixie-like hair. She was in baggy joggers and a hoodie that had London on the front; like the sort you get on the stalls up on Oxford Street.
âYouâre such a retard,â she said in Blakeâs face. âGimme the bag.â
He wouldnât budge.
âGive it to me,â she screamed in his face. He jumped and let go.
âJosie,â a nurse addressed her.
âDonât worry, Iâve got this,â she said.
She whipped the pants off Blakeâs head and walked towards me with a big smile on her face.
âYours, I believe?â She held out the bag.
My jaw was on the floor. She was amazing. She had more control over Blake than the nurses did.
âYou might wanna get these washed, though.â She put the pants in the bag. âDonât know where Blakeâs been.â She winked at me.
I held out my hand and she hooked the bag over my fingers, and sat down next to me.
âShowâs over, morons,â Josie shouted and the chatter returned.
I couldnât stop staring at her. I was totally mesmerised. I thought I was being a bit psycho, just staring, but she didnât seem to notice.
âI saw some scruffy-looking bloke bring that bag in earlier. I saw you on the list for therapy this afternoon, knew he was there, put two and two together, got four.â
I sort of smiled at her.
âWho was the bloke, your dad?â
I nodded.
âYou hate him?â
I nodded again.
âI hate mine, too, and my mum. They got me put in here,â
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