misfits · calum hood

day twenty

day twenty – after

I woke up hopeful that maybe everything that happened the day before was all part of some insane dream. Like nothing ever happened and Michael never killed anyone and everything would be okay. I highly doubted it, though.

Steph had not awoken me like she usually had. Ordinarily, she would tend to whisper-yell my name in my ear if I slept in too late or maybe just poke my face with a pencil a couple times. But today, it was different. I didn’t think she would be as cheery as usual since the whole hospital had taken a downhill spiral. The mental hospital for depressed people had become even more depressing than it usually was, which was a frightening depressing.

It wasn’t a dream. It all came washing over me as I sat up to get ready. Calum and I had sat there for a really, really long time. People came and went but we stayed. No one even tried to make us leave or even scolded us for breaking the rules. I think everyone was a little anxious and startled from the whole situation.

So Calum and I sat there, and we didn’t say much. There wasn’t much to say. Well, actually, there was, but neither of us felt like talking about it. I knew it was a rough subject for Calum and damn, I hated to see him cry. He had calmed himself down for awhile, but that was temporary as he started crying again later. I attempted to comfort him again, and it somewhat worked. Not long after, I guess a doctor realized how long we were in there or how late is was so they came and made us leave. Calum went one way, I went another. I didn’t want to leave him, and I guess he didn’t want me to leave either since he kept mumbling things like, ‘Please let me stay with her.’

It was nearly lights-out when I got back to my room. We really had been there for a long time. I tried my hardest to sleep but my eyes wouldn’t shut. My thoughts wouldn’t shut up, either, and the clock on the wall read one thirty-seven a.m. when I had finally shut my eyes and found sleep.

That’s partially why I didn’t really feel like getting up out of bed this morning. The other seventy percent because I didn’t want to see Calum sad, or anyone else sad for that matter. I mean, sure, we’re all sad, but this was a painful kind of sad.

“Good morning,” Steph said solemnly to me when she saw that I was awake. She sat at the edge of her bed, already dressed. That was odd; usually she had to run out the door at the last minute to be ready for breakfast. This lead me to believe that she did not get any sleep last night, and that she had just stayed up all night reading under the blankets with her flashlight.

“It is really considered ‘good?’” I wondered out loud.

She shrugged. “Probably not.”

I just sighed and quickly got ready, putting on a t-shirt and jeans; running a brush through my hair to try to rid of all the knots. I hardly looked presentable, but when did I ever? I gave Steph a small wave as I exited the room and strode towards the elevator.

I’ve never really mentioned it before but every morning, I had to take my medications. I guess they just assigned a time for everyone to take their pills, and usually it was in the morning, or maybe at night. They kept them at the front desk because you couldn’t keep them in your room – for obvious reasons. So we all just went there as the lady at the desk handed us our pills and we swallowed them with the Dixie cup of water they also gave us. Nothing ever interesting happened, so there was never anything to tell about that.