Insanity

                                    

                                          
Brooklyn's P.O.V
                          
They call him the psychotic savior. The boy in the other hospital room. The one that screams at night. Rumors spread through the hospital that he needs to go to a facility. But of course, these may just be rumors. 
                          
I would see nurses walk by and stare as though I was some kind of monster. They act like I'm not here and talk with the boy with blonde hair. It seems as though they have forgotten me. The boy with the blonde hair is now the only one bringing me my lunches. 
                          
I can't remember anything from my past so I don't know what may come in the future. The nurses always lock the windows and close the blinds in my room. The cold air sweeps in replacing the hot air. It's nice knowing that they trust me with windows unlocked. 
                          
It being currently night, I hear the door to the next room quietly and swiftly open and shut. I first thought it was a nurse, I then thought otherwise when my door cracks open revealing a boy.
                          
The boy was different. Instead of blonde hair he had brown hair. He seems surprised to see me. This may be the boy that screams, although he seems different then I imagined.
                          
He hesitated, "You don't remember me?" He stepped in leaving the door open behind him. Startled by my silence he chocked. "This can't be happening!" He raised his voice. Although, I wasn't scared. In fact, it felt as though he doesn't always act like this. It was as if that crazy look in his eyes was never supposed to be there. The light in his eyes seemed to say so.
                          
He kicked the door getting a nurse's attention. He dropped down to his knees and sobbed. The nurse came in dismissing him. The last thing I thought before going to sleep was, If the rumors were true, this may have been the last time I would ever get to see him.
                          
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It being the next day my windows are now shut, locking me away from the outside room. My blinds continue to be closed blocking out any light. It feels like a prison more than a hospital.
                          
I feel emotionally drained and weary. Each time I sit up I feel a pain in my head causing me to lay back down. After awhile I started to get used to it. Even though I know, this is no way of living. 
                          
The boy with the blonde hair came in. He gingerly sat on the side of my hospital bed. "My parents have requested me home." He frowned at me causing my expression to drop. "I can still visit."
                          
Great, I will be alone the majority of the time. "So-," I stopped. I hadn't talked in days causing my voice to crack. It's not really a good thing to stop talking. What if I'm the next to go insane?
                          
The boy looked at the door, "Oh, yeah." He looked at me hesitant as though he didn't really want to say. "The crazy boy next door requested to be moved into your room."
                          
I coughed, "What do you mean crazy boy?" I looked at him quizzically. " I thought you knew him?"
                          
His shoulders slumped. "I do know him. In fact you know him- or, I mean, knew him too." 
                          
I couldn't and didn't understand why he was holding back. This boy in the other other room never did anything to hurt anyone right? 
                          
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Well," He waited for my response but I didn't have one. At least not one that could be put into words. "Wait, are you actually thinking about this?" 
                          
Is he angry? Why is he angry? He's angry! My feelings mixed up like paint. I was an artist. But I couldn't figure out what color of paint I wanted. I didn't know what I would paint with it. As in I didn't know what to say or how to feel. Something was holding me back.