Ghost Whispers |-/ Joshler

re·fur·bish

/rēˈfərbiSH/
verb
to furbish again; brighten; restore, to make better than before

Play the music link above when you see the *

There's a basketball hoop at the institution. There was also a basketball, but its current state was nowhere near what constituted a playable basketball.

Tyler sat on the court, right at the free throw line, the under-inflated basketball sitting in front of him. He'd stay there for the whole two hours of his yard time, arms crossed, as he gazed at the ball. He seemed to miss it.

Though it was mid January and well below a warm temperature, Tyler sat out there in a big, grey sweater and sweatpants.

Nurses watched him from the windows above, as well as a few other patients. Adrian was one of them.

The two hours were up for the day, and Tyler was coaxed back inside. The warmth of the ward moved through him as soon as he stepped in. Cheeks, nose, and ears red,  he sat down at an empty table and rubbed his hands together.

Something tugged at him. No, not something. A lot of things. Eyes.

Looking up, he found nearly every pair of eyes focused on him. He stopped rubbing his hands together and stared back, head lulled to the side.

All was still in the ward. Not one soul moved, not even the visitors. They had seemed to pick up on the situation and looked to Tyler as well.

As Tyler held a stare with the boy with the multiple eating disorders, Anxi came into the rec room.

"What's going on?" She questioned, moving across the room to sit at the table with Tyler. "This is like some cowboy movie."

With the new presence, the staring contest seemed to end. Tyler blinked gratefully and looked to the girl.

"What?" He asked.

"You know, when they're having a standoff and their fingers are wiggling over their guns in their holsters on their hips. It's all intense and cutting, very manly." She said.

"Oh." He muttered. "I guess."

"Why were you taking on the whole rec room with just your eyes anyway?" She leaned across the table, chin resting in her palm.

"Dunno. I came in from outside and they were just...staring at me." Tyler let his head hang as he played with the hem of his oversized sweater. It was a hand-me-down from another patient; spotted with paint and a stain Tyler didn't care to know the origin of.

"That's odd. Maybe it's because everyone knows you attacked Dr. Ulka." Anxi sat back in her chair, her body language now relaxed.

Eyes blown up to near dinner plate size, Tyler's head whipped up. "They do?"

"Yeah. And in case you haven't heard, when a doctor attacks a patient or vice versa, it's mandatory that-"

"Anxi, it's group therapy time." An ever-interrupting voice could be heard over the scuffle of chairs on the linoleum.

"Coming!" Anxi called, sprinting from her chair over to the circle. Tyler ran after her, desperate to hear the rest of her sentence.