Another thing I will never understand about the system is, why put all patients, insane or damaged, together? They release us and want us to live together in one building. Can you imagine the chaos we could create if we all got together and went on a rampage? My eyes are already on a blonde self-harmer, my dark thoughts fucking her mouth while whispering all the dreaded things she tells herself when she cuts, obliterating any progress she’s made with simple taunts about her lack of worth. She smiles at me coyly, her desire my tool and her weakness. They can’t charge you for murder if they kill themselves, right? I smirk back at her then trail my eyes to the girl she’s standing next to, a taller, thinner girl who has her unnecessary envy. I linger on her, feeding from the aura of self-hate and jealousy pouring from the blonde; it’s all so appetizing and the noise that was just thundering in my ears like a drill decimates. I’m free to play and they placed me amongst easy prey. Nothing can dampen that.
“There is a curfew. You are free to come and go but you must sign out and in, and be back inside by nine p.m,” Annabel says.
I force a smile and nod in agreement, telling myself that in three months I can disappear if I choose to.
“This is Jason. Jason, Ryan,” Annabel introduces me.
I shake the offered hand of the desk clerk. He has long brown hair that’s greasy and pulled back. His beard has crumbs lurking in the tangles from the sandwich he’s chewing while talking to me. I need to bleach my hand and his body so I can slice him up and not catch anything, the dirty bastard. He hands me an envelope with my key inside.
“There is no bringing people in to stay the night. You are allowed guests, but they must sign in and be out by curfew. There are cameras above me and in all the walkways, so no sneaking people in after hours.” He squints his eyes and glares at me as if he’s caught me doing so before.
“Okay,” I agree, refraining from breaking all my progress by using my thumbs to push his eyeballs through the back of his skull.
Annabel leads me to a stairwell and takes me up to the second floor. The walls are cream, and on one stairwell wall there is a weird green splash of color; a flash of memory from my childhood which reminds me of Slimer from Ghostbusters, a favorite film of Blake’s when we were children. He used to make me watch it with him every time our mother was so high she forgot to feed us and we needed a distraction from the hunger pains.
I was informed of her passing years ago, and used it in my therapy sessions. I told them I felt closure from the horrible childhood she gave us. It wasn’t true; I didn’t feel anything but indifference for her in life and death, and it would have been the same no matter what kind of childhood I’d had.
I focus on my surroundings; the tiled floors and barren walls leave the place cold and unwelcoming, ironic, really.
The brown door she stops in front of has a number six, stuck on with a piece of tape. Annabel shrugs when the door sticks after I put the key in to unlock it.
“So, it’s not the Ritz but it’s clean, free and your own,” she says.
The door finally gives and opens with a shove from Annabel’s overweight hip. I try not to head-butt her and toss her from the window when she announces the place with open arms and a, “Ta-da!”
The room smells of stale smoke and rotten food. The walls are stark white with swirls of yellow smoke damage. The couch is covered in a white sheet, and a small table sits in front of it on a dark brown rug. The floors are wooden and surprisingly nice compared to the rest of the shithole.
“We had a nicer place set up for you but you insisted on being in the city.” She continues to defend the fact it’s a dump and could make a depressed person slit their wrists to escape.
I look out the window and across the street at the subway, which will take me directly to Cereus’ school.
“It’s fine, Annabel. You can go now,” I tell her.
Her “humph” makes me want to choke her with her own saggy tits. She refuses to wear a bra and desperately needs one.
“Here is your starter pack which has money and all the things you may need, including a basic cell phone. Anything I can help you with call me, and make sure you make it to your appointments, Ryan. If you’re late or a no show we have the power to re-evaluate your release. It’s a huge culture shock after being confined for so long but you will adjust and adapt into the world.”
I swallow the retort on my lips and smile bitterly at her, and gesture to the door for her to leave.
Once it closes behind her, I sigh, and once again return my attention to the window. Cars and fashion have come a long way in the years I’ve been locked away but people don’t change, and they made the big mistake of thinking I have. I’m itching for punishment and debauchery. The blonde I saw when I first arrived is just coming back inside. She lives here and will be my first victim.