Ten | newtmas

eleven

    Thomas left an hour or two later, leaving me to think about how life will be for me now. I start my therapy sessions tomorrow with the doctor here, which makes me anxious despite the pills I took. I don't even know what to say.

    While he was in here, Thomas told me about the guy who will be doing the sessions, Dr. Janson. He doesn't sound terrible, but all social interactions are quite uncomfortable for me nowadays. What'll he ask me about? He'll probably think theres a deep emotional problem thats causing all this but he won't dig deep and find anything wrong. I don't think its that deep, I think I'm just crazy. Nothing was wrong until my O.C.D. started. Therapy will probably be a waste of time, but while I'm trying to recover I guess it won't hurt.

    I look over to the clock which tells me its currently six, so dinner will most likely be soon. Sucking in a breath, I hoist myself off the bed and start walking, the count of my steps going on in the back of my head. Once I'm outside the door I reach ten, and stop to snap. For a moment, I feel at ease. I've never been around so many people who have the same difficulties as I do. Well not exact, but ballpark. It's comforting to know you're not alone. There's still the anxiety and depression weighing on my chest and hanging in my heart and stuck on my mind, but maybe I can get through it.

    "Hey, Newt, where have you been?" Chuck asks. He startles me while I'm walking but I make sure to remember that I'm on two.

    "In my room, you were talking to people so I went back," I say, adding a weak smile at the end.

    "Oh. Well dinner is being served now so we should head there," he says. I was already heading that way so I continue walking until I reach ten again. When I stop to snap, Chuck stops too.

    "You can go ahead if you want," I say. Chuck shakes his head.

    "No way. I've been counting with you actually, it's kinda fun," Chuck says. It strikes me as weird that he'd think this was 'fun'. If he'd like to take what I have he'd be welcome to have fun with it.

    "Yeah. It's a riot, really," I say. Chuck looks shocked at my response.

    "Oh, oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that. Of course its not fun not at all. Um. I mean-,"

    "Don't worry about it. I know what you meant," I say. I guess if you don't have to do it then it could be considered as a game. We finally reach the dining room and make our way to the table.

    "Hey Chuck, hey Newt. Missed you there earlier," I hear Minho greet us as we arrive. Giving another weak smile, I sit down next to Chuck and across from Thomas, who's engaged in a conversation with Winston. I'm iffy about Winston now, he was the one who Thomas gave his pill to. Frankly, it was gross.

    "Hey guys," Frypan says, coming from the kitchen with plates of food. He checks each tag on them before placing them before each person. Everyone has a different assortment of food, probably basing it on why they're here. Mine is a grilled chicken breast with broccoli. I can't complain, it looks pretty good.

    As I start eating, Thomas leans over and signals he wants to whisper to me. My face subconsciously turned bright red as I leaned in too.

    "Do you have to chew ten times?" he asks. For some reason this strikes me as hilarious and makes me full on giggle in front of him. Putting down my fork, I pull away and look up at him.

    "Tommy, I'm crazy but I'm not that crazy. Besides, even if I do, I probably wouldn't even realize. I could be doing it right now, it's robotic," I say. Thomas laughs and looks down, causing a pain in my chest. What on Earth is the matter with me. I guess I just really like being his friend.

    "Just asking. Its interesting, I wanna see it from your point of view," he says.

    "I'd probably be the same way." Somehow I've gained the confidence to joke around, something I haven't done in a long time.

    Thomas stops laughing suddenly, like a switch, and stares at my plate. I look down at it to see nothing but my food.

    "Whats wrong?" I ask. Thomas keeps staring, shaking his head a little. "Tommy?"

    "I, uh," he says, pulling his eyes away and shutting his eyes tight, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Its nothing. Sorry."

    "Okay," I say, concerned but dropping it. Possibly a hallucination of his. I wonder what he saw. Does he get a headache with them? He opens his eyes again and looks down to my plate, seemingly satisfied with what he sees.

    "Um. What was I saying?" he asks.

    "Uh, something about my craziness," I say, trying to lighten the mood. Thomas smiles and looks into my eyes. Man, thats some killer eye contact.

    "You know Newt, you're really fun," Thomas says. I can't help but smile.

    "You're not too bad yourself," I say.

    "There's a call for Newton," a man comes in and yells to the room. I look around before standing up and walking over, ending on a seven.

    "I'm Newton," I say. The man points down the hall and I go to the room with the phones, trying not to take so much time.

    When I get there I pick up the only phone with a shining green light and sit down on the stool in front of it.

    "Hello?" I say, finishing my ten and snapping.

    "Newt? Sweetie how are you?" I hear my mom on the line.

    "As good as I can be, I guess," I say.

    "Did you take your pills? How are the meals? How's Chuck? How are the people? Do you need to come home?" she rambles all at once.

    "I took my pills, the meals are good, Chuck is good, the people are good, everything is good. I'm good. I don't need to come home," I say, leaving out any details.

    "Okay. That's good. You're sure you're okay?" she says.

    "I'm fine. How are you guys?" I ask, wrapping the cord of the phone around my finger and biting my lip. The line is silent for a couple of seconds before my mom answers.

    "We're good," she says. Why did it take her so long to respond?

    "Okay," I say, not really wanting to dig deep into it. "I should get back to dinner."

    "Oh! Get back to dinner. We love you so much," she says.

    "Love you too," I say, waiting a moment before hanging up.

    I walk into the dining room again and the first thing I see is running. I'm frozen in place as I see a medic at my table and hear shouting shouting everywhere. My automatic response is to shut down, but my mind first goes to Thomas.

    It seems to go in slow motion as I run over, pushing my way through to see what was going on. Everyone is crowded around a convulsing body, which I can only see the legs of. Chuck is next to him, and that helps me because I know its not him.

    It's like running through water, when you're petrified to reach your ending point. As the face starts coming into view I feel a hand on my shoulder and I whip around to see him.

    Thomas.

    "Newt, Winston overdosed, go back to your room," he says, placing strong emphasis on his last words. I turn back around to see Winston's face as he lies there. He's almost gray as the paramedics surround him.

    Thomas' face looks panicked and I can see fear in his eyes as a tear rolls down his cheek. A voice in my mind screams seven. I run, counting the amount of times I reach ten so I can make up for it later.

    I run and run, blood rushing to my head. I don't stop till I reach my room and close the door behind me. I slide down the door and put my head in my hands, crying into them. I don't know what makes me break down so much, but I'm left sobbing on the floor. I snap 50 times while doing so, crying even more at how pathetic that is.

    All I'm left to do for an hour is cry.