Tin Can

After-Day One

I peeled myself from the plastic mattress. I barely remembered what happened, but I knew it sure wasn't good.

My soft brown hair was French braided down my back, and I was wearing an itchy blue jumpsuit that annoyed the hell out of me already and it was only seven a.m.

I looked around my room.

The early morning sunlight could barely be seen through my west facing window, but the pale purple sky still showed above the deep violet mountains. Pale yellow wallpaper was plastered across the walls, and on the wall on my right there was a swinging door that led to the bathroom; a tiny sink with a dull grey mirror, a rusted showerhead, and an old toilet. Behind my headboard, there was the heavy door that lead to the hallway.

It wasn't the worst situation, except I wasn't given sheets or a pillow since I got in so late.

“Everyone up! Happy wednesday!” said a soft voice over the intercom, blasting her announcement through the speaker above me.

I forced myself to stand up and stretched out my sore muscles, but a sharp pain shot through my ribs.

I pulled back a part of my jumpsuit to reveal bandages running across my chest.

Crap. I thought. What'd I do?

I pushed open the heavy door into the hallway and I saw about a dozen other kids, the youngest one around seven, trudging down the carpeted and padded corridor wrapped in blankets or clutching stuffed bears.

Cautiously, I walked out, seeing at the end of the hall a gorgeous woman with a huge smile. She beamed at each child with straight and shining teeth. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy bun and her eye makeup was perfect. She was about five foot six and she was petite and skinny as a rail. I already loved her.

“Oh! Bill! Please go with Mr. Brian for your medication!” the nurse said in a soft tone to a small boy.

The boy was about eight with huge eyes that seemed to drink in everything around him, observing anything. His brown hair was shaggy and long, so I could tell he'd been there for a while.

I saw the beautiful nurse look at me.

“You must be the new girl! I'm so sorry, I only got here at five this morning, I didn't get to meet you, but I'm your intake nurse; my name's Ms. Cathy!”

I smiled weakly at her.

“I’ll do all your paperwork after breakfast sweetie. Take a tray.”

I saw a plastic cart in the entryway to a huge common room. On the opposite side of the entryway, the wall was made of windows, so one could see the mountains. About six circular tables were strewn around half of the room with no organization whatsoever. On the other half of the room, sofas and bean bag chairs were scattered around a small television. On the wall where the entryway was, there was a row of drawers labeled things like ‘card games’ and ‘calming coloring pages’ in bright colors.

I grabbed a plastic tray from the cart and flopped down in the nearest table, merely picking at the toast on my plate and observing everyone.

One girl with long blonde dreadlocks strode in barefoot. She wore a tyedyed T shirt that was so big it hung to her knees and her jumpsuit tied around her waist like pants. When she yawned as she sat at her table with her food, I caught a glimpse of a set of dentures.

A large boy that could easily be a football player sat next to her, immediately devouring his eggs and toast. He laughed loudly at something I figured the girl had said.

Next, a tiny, fragile little girl crept into the room holding a scuffed up stuffed bear. The sweet nurse carried her tray to an unoccupied table and the little girl sat, carefully picking up her plastic spork. She couldn't have been older than seven, and her chubby little face framed by red curly locks showed the sad sort of innocence. Her jumpsuit was covered in lollipops instead of the generic blue I saw on everyone else.

A boy with a blonde mohawk was sitting next to the girl with dreadlocks, and his smile was crooked like his teeth. His eyes were the bluest blue I had ever seen and his hands constantly fiddled with his tray and picked at loose strands on his jumpsuit.

The small boy with big eyes I had seen before came out looking for a place to sit and decided on sitting with me. He sat across the table from me and did not speak. He just made himself busy with his food.

I noticed a girl sitting on a beanbag chair without a tray talking to a nurse. She had no hair; it was all buzzed. She had gauges and many facial piercings. She was clearly upset too; tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes. Her jumpsuit had blood on it that looked disturbingly fresh.

The last person to join the group was a boy of twelve who was puffy faced and his lips were blown up almost like a cartoon. He had long blonde hair that fell past his shoulderblades. When he sat down next to the tiny little girl, he looked at his food with an awful loathing.

The beautiful Ms. Cathy clapped her hands together in front of the tables.

“We have a new arrival! You all know the drill, tell her your name and your favorite color. It's always the same, remember?”

The girl with dreadlocks stood up.

“I'm Ellie. But they call me Cookie. My favorite color is green.” She sat down and folded her arms behind her head, leaning back in her chair.

“I'm Jonah,” said the football player. “I like pink.”

“I'm Dylan. I love green. But green like the trees, not neon green.” The mohawk boy said.

“Ruby is right here,” squealed the tiny little girl. “I love orange! And green! Like dylan!”

“Thank you, Ruby,” laughed Ms. Cathy.

“My name is Bill, and I like white,” said the little boy with big eyes sitting across from me.

The twelve year old boy stood up and mumbled, “I'm Ralph. They call me R. My favorite color is blue.”

Ms. Cathy cleared her throat. “That is June on the bean bag. She's having a hard time, so everyone be gentle today.

“Will you tell us your name?” Ms. Cathy said, gesturing to me with a huge smile.

I stood up, my hands shaking and my forehead beginning to sweat profusely.

“I-I-I’m Olive.” I stuttered. “Y-y-yellow.”

I stopped and slumped back down.

“Thank you Olive!” said Ms. Cathy. “Will you come with me? Please bring your tray so I can keep track of what you ate.”

I nodded, picked up my tray, and followed the nurse out of the common room and into a room made of windows with a huge rack of computer surveillance displays, techs working on medical records.

She showed me to a room off of the bigger one.

It was almost a doctor's office. A large purple chair was covered with a layer of thin paper, medical equipment was lined up on one wall and stacks of papers were on the countertops.

“Please sit on the chair,” she said. “I'm going to ask you some complicated questions and I want you to do your best in answering them, alright sweetie?”

I nodded.

“Alright dear. Can you tell me why you're here?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“I barely remember.” I said quietly.

Ms. Cathy made a note on her clipboard. “What do you remember?”

“I was driving my Volkswagen Bus, to get away from the house, and the next thing I remember, I'm getting put in an ambulance next to a river and my beat up Bus.”

Ms. Cathy paused. “Why were you trying to get away?”

I felt tears well up in my eyes. I crossed my legs and curled up in a ball and let the tears stain my jumpsuit.