Hello all and thank you for stumbling into my little thread. This is me trying my fingers at writing again after many years break. Let me introduce you to the White Room, a short story that will include heavy topics with a light approach. It is the story of a 23-year-old girl called Elisa, who has become a regular patient at a psych ward. Even though I have much experience with mental health problems this story isn't about my experiences, they are simply over exaggerations of what could happen to someone struggling with depression. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I'll be back with chapter 2 as soon as possible.
THE WHITE ROOM - CHAPTER 1
?? White. White, white, white. Everything's white. I mean, what the heck did they think while decorating this room? I'm not sure whether I feel like jumping around or lying in my bed in a fetal position. But for now, I've chosen the latter one. The bed is comfy, I'll give you that, but not as comfy as the one I have back home. For now it'll do. The clothes they gave me are kind of cute as well. That's important since I like to look good at all times. Looks, they are sometimes crucial for basic human survival. All you have to do is go to the store with slack clothes and messy hair and you're immediately welcomed by contemptuous looks from the clerks. And then you go back home, cry and wonder why everything has to be so complicated. Well screw them all. In here I don't have to care about looks, but I still kind of do... I have to give off a good impression to the male patients, since you never know who you'll meet outside these walls. Perhaps I'll meet someone in the pub when I get off from here. Yes, I'd like that very much. I do go to the pub often now-a-days. Perhaps even too often. Or, I can't really tell anymore. Maybe I have been drinking a bit too much recently.
?? "So, why did you do it?"
Elisa sits on a red armchair and swings her legs frantically, while four nurses examine her with thick notepads on their laps. Swing, swing, swing. Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, her nails grow shorter. The clock on the wall breaks the silence and the ticking doesn't help Elisa one bit with the anxiety she's experiencing. Tick, tick, tick. Her time on this Earth flows in the gutter.
?? "Gosh. I don't know. I just did. Everything happened too quickly. Or like, not really that quickly, but it just felt like it. Like, you know, one minute you're in one room and in a second you're in another one."
Elisa swings her hands while speaking and almost takes down the floor lamp next to her chair. She cries out with a big "whoops" and grins at the bulky male nurse who's now staring at her. The rest of the nurses exchange glances. That doesn't make Elisa too comfortable. From the motions of their hands, she can see that the scribbles would be nothing less that hieroglyphs to the untrained, naked eye. The nurses keep writing while Elisa rolls her eyes and fidgets around in her chair. The situation is ridiculous in her opinion. Four nurses, the youngest one of them only two years her elder, sitting there all serious and quiet. Their silence was what really was killing her then.
?? "Is this kind of behaviour typical for you?"
?? "I don't know. Maybe."
?? "How often would you say this happens?"
?? "For God's sake...! I don't know!!"
The youngest nurse looks taken aback by her sudden burst of rage. And the pens start moving again. Whoopsie. Now they thing she's a complete wacko.
?? "I mean... It happens maybe once of twice a week. Sometimes less often, but recently I've been feeling this way a lot."
The bulky nurse nods understandingly at her and then looks at his watch.
?? "Well, Elisa. Let's end here for now. Macy shall show you to your new room."
And in we go again to the white room. Or perhaps Elisa will get a yellow room this time.
Hello all and thank you for stumbling into my little thread. This is me trying my fingers at writing again after many years break. Let me introduce you to the White Room, a short story that will include heavy topics with a light approach. It is the story of a 23-year-old girl called Elisa, who has become a regular patient at a psych ward. Even though I have much experience with mental health problems this story isn't about my experiences, they are simply over exaggerations of what could happen to someone struggling with depression. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I'll be back with chapter 2 as soon as possible.
THE WHITE ROOM - CHAPTER 1
?? White. White, white, white. Everything's white. I mean, what the heck did they think while decorating this room? I'm not sure whether I feel like jumping around or lying in my bed in a fetal position. But for now, I've chosen the latter one. The bed is comfy, I'll give you that, but not as comfy as the one I have back home. For now it'll do. The clothes they gave me are kind of cute as well. That's important since I like to look good at all times. Looks, they are sometimes crucial for basic human survival. All you have to do is go to the store with slack clothes and messy hair and you're immediately welcomed by contemptuous looks from the clerks. And then you go back home, cry and wonder why everything has to be so complicated. Well screw them all. In here I don't have to care about looks, but I still kind of do... I have to give off a good impression to the male patients, since you never know who you'll meet outside these walls. Perhaps I'll meet someone in the pub when I get off from here. Yes, I'd like that very much. I do go to the pub often now-a-days. Perhaps even too often. Or, I can't really tell anymore. Maybe I have been drinking a bit too much recently.
?? "So, why did you do it?"
Elisa sits on a red armchair and swings her legs frantically, while four nurses examine her with thick notepads on their laps. Swing, swing, swing. Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, her nails grow shorter. The clock on the wall breaks the silence and the ticking doesn't help Elisa one bit with the anxiety she's experiencing. Tick, tick, tick. Her time on this Earth flows in the gutter.
?? "Gosh. I don't know. I just did. Everything happened too quickly. Or like, not really that quickly, but it just felt like it. Like, you know, one minute you're in one room and in a second you're in another one."
Elisa swings her hands while speaking and almost takes down the floor lamp next to her chair. She cries out with a big "whoops" and grins at the bulky male nurse who's now staring at her. The rest of the nurses exchange glances. That doesn't make Elisa too comfortable. From the motions of their hands, she can see that the scribbles would be nothing less that hieroglyphs to the untrained, naked eye. The nurses keep writing while Elisa rolls her eyes and fidgets around in her chair. The situation is ridiculous in her opinion. Four nurses, the youngest one of them only two years her elder, sitting there all serious and quiet. Their silence was what really was killing her then.
?? "Is this kind of behaviour typical for you?"
?? "I don't know. Maybe."
?? "How often would you say this happens?"
?? "For God's sake...! I don't know!!"
The youngest nurse looks taken aback by her sudden burst of rage. And the pens start moving again. Whoopsie. Now they thing she's a complete wacko.
?? "I mean... It happens maybe once of twice a week. Sometimes less often, but recently I've been feeling this way a lot."
The bulky nurse nods understandingly at her and then looks at his watch.
?? "Well, Elisa. Let's end here for now. Macy shall show you to your new room."
And in we go again to the white room. Or perhaps Elisa will get a yellow room this time.
|
User Notice 
sillysoul is Offline
| ID: 1031153 | 707 Words
sillysoul is Offline
