I had thought summer days home alone were boring. I hadn’t even been there more than 12 hours and I had already done everything there was to do. Sleep, read, eat, stare, do a puzzle, sit, fantasize. The only thing left was to be released off unit 24 hours after admission. Thank God there will only be three to five days of this. My brain was actually turning off as I watched a minuscule fluff of fabric skid on the fake hardwood floor. There were insignificant whispers about bags, underwire, and Maurice, none to which I payed attention. When there was conversation it was never good, not for me anyway. Somebody’s issues are way too serious to handle and I can’t sit there and go “That sucks.” or somebody’s leaving and I’m jealous. No happiness lives in this place, maybe once in a while it will visit but soon its chased out the door by the bossy nurse, Ms. Tanya. Freetime used to be something I begged for, at least tomorrow I will have all my school work. I thought last week sucked, ha. Here it comes, the regret. The only train of thought to board in this place is either boredom or self-pity and regret. You don’t even need a fantasy to fantasize about, all you need is to remember.

To escape I recall exactly how the wet tile felt on my toes, how 24 hours ago I was in the middle of a losing game, how my dad had ripped my phone from the plug and threw it. All of the things I should have done differently rush and for a moment I had escaped but now looking around at these cold, dank walls where the nurses aren’t even kind, tears well up in my eyes and I don’t bother stopping them or hiding them because crying is what gets most of us through this. That and the denial of false hope are the first two survival techniques I have learned. This is good practice for prison.

I learned the crying technique the instant I was admitted, I learned how harsh false hope can be at snack time. I hadn’t realized there was a snack time, “this could be a little pick-me-up.” I thought. Maybe it would be a bag of goldfish or chips or teddy grahams. I went up to the cart to receive my styrofoam to-go box from the sour faced nurse, with tears proudly wetting my cheeks and a frown on my face. No, not chips, not crackers, not a pick-me-up. A baloney sandwich with icy cheese on damp bread recently thawed from the icebox. New tears came and ran down my face, as I sulked back to my corner they met my smile. False hope can kill you. At least it was only a snack this time.
My fifth day there was the worst. Someone had left yesterday and I had woken up from a dream about home to a bleary hallway lit with fluorescents. Bailey had cried through the night after visitation last night -we all heard him- and was still sniffling and quiet at breakfast. When you’re in here everyone shares their pain, but people are greedy with their happiness and stingy with hope. His pain was our pain and none of us helped. Freetime was stupid like always, lunch was regular, and none of us were interested in rec that day. We would go back to group and then I blew up, I put my foot and every other limb in my mouth and then I had to explain it all because there is no getting away in this place.

I was just waiting for this day to be over. I just kept thinking about how I would be sleeping in my own bed tonight. I would do my peers a favor and not tell them I would be gone by tomorrow, then they could not envy someone as pitiful as me. Visitation came along and I was mad, I interrogated my mom and sister and demanded to know why I wasn’t being processed yet. I needed fresh air, I needed fresh clothes, I needed a hug. They explained how evidently the woman in the ER had lied to us it would be three more whole nights and two more whole days in this place. I had hoped and I had paid for it. I was furious to say the least and from then to the end of the visit I was cooperative and silent. I just wanted to go home. There were a lot of things I had the right to fight over but it’s easiest to admit you’ve been defeated and do the time.

When I got released off the unit my parents weren’t interested in anything except arguing with the nurses. I was somewhere new and that was good enough, besides they’d probably only argue for a little while. It was a long while before I was in the car hanging my head out the window and enjoying the fresh, blissful air.