Adam was the only boyfriend I had inside the institute.He served meals at the cafeteria and sometimes assisted with us when there was a shortage of nurses. He opened windows and walked with us throughout the hospital. If we needed a cigg lit he would be the one we called for.
I didn't smoke but my roomie Jamie did. When he came in I normally shied away in the corner and drew on my sketchpad. Which is the only thing that kept me from going insane. ( Ironic that I was still in denial even though I was living in the ward)
Once he noticed a scetch of mine. It was a picture of a girl trapped outside my window. She was crying and the tears sort of made her look blurry.
Adam: That's cool, what does it mean.
Me: It means nothing
Adam: You seem normal to me...why are you here.
Me: If I tell you I will have to kill you. I don't wanna be judged.
Adam: Who's judging you?
Me: Your father
Adam: What is his diagnoses?
He said this with the cutest grin and a bit of sarcasm.
Me: Apperently I am screwed up.
He looked down at the scetch and then at me.
Adam: I see you in the picture, not with the resenblance but symbolically.She is trapped but on the outside, so maybe you felt worse oput there than you do here. It looks like pain.
He hit very close with this one.
Me: Did Dr. Dad teach you that?
He lifted his sleeve and bared his arms to me.
Adam: No...this did.
His tracks were worse than mine. His scars were deep and symetrical. Each cut was strategically placed in parallel lines all along the inside of his arm.
That is when I started questioning Dr. Dad about "personal" things and that is when I started going to the cafeteria.