Outside.
'You're new here.' A client says. She's young. Under eighteen. Seemingly more stable than the rest. She smacks her badminton racquet against her white sneakers.
'Yeah,' I say. 'I arrived yesterday.'
'You like it here?' she asks.
'Of course.'
'Come on, it sucks. You gotta admit this place sucks. It smells like wet t-shirts left in the washing machine. Damp. Don't you think? And the lame activities. Belly dancing yesterday. Badminton today. Scrapbooking tomorrow.'
My team leader, Maria, looks over our way. I'm reminded how I've been trained to steer conversations with the clients.
'They're planting tomatoes later on,' I say.
'Screw the tomatoes, they're lame,' she says. 'My name is Anita.'
Anita. Aqua singed around the edges with purple.
'Sylvie,' I say. Jade green. 'Do you know anyone here named Jarvis?'
'Nup. Never heard of him. Is he Irish?'
'Don't think so,' I say. My disappointment is a brand new car that's just left the sales yard and depreciated overnight. If he's not here, I'll have to spend a whole year in this institution until I can move to my next one to find him.
YOU ARE READING
Silver
Teen FictionSylvie, 16, sees colours, where other people only hear words or feel emotions. She knows she has to keep this a secret - as people disappear to institutions if they get sick in the mind. *** Sylvie likes to dress in Lolita outfits and dreams of beco...
