We sit in the waiting area for a few hours. The doctor talks to me, then to my parents, then to me again and my parents once more. We fill out all of the paperwork, my mom crying and asking me why. My father is ultimately silent. I look down at the veins on my wrists. They push against my skin, blue tree branches spreading throughout my body. How easy they would be to slice. I think of how it would feel. Then I lift my head and my parents are in front of me at a small table, heads bowed and faces solemn. Guilt seeps into my thoughts and I grow heavy. My stomach drops a few feet. I wish I was at home. I want to be dead, more than anything.
I say goodbye to my parents. I won't be home for a while. I hope my brothers will forgive me. I hope no one at school finds out. My friends probably won't notice.
The nurses are nice, yet rigid. They take my vitals and draw my blood. They search me and take away my shoe strings. Finally, a short Asian woman hands me a blanket, a sheet, and a pillow. The blanket is stiff and not soft at all, the sheet is crisp, and the pillow feels like it is full of air. The Asian woman leads me through multiple locked doors that require a card to pass through. We have to stop several times for this. When we enter through a door labelled "DORM 2", I recoil instantly. The place smells like sweat. A group of boys are sitting in a circle in large plastic chairs. Some look younger than me, but some look older, too. Two adults are also there. One is reading aloud from a paper. She's heavy and short and has her tangled brown hair in a bun on her head. The other adult is a man. He's black, and he looks strong. His hair is cropped close to his head. He looks young. All of the staff do. He glances up at me, too. Maybe he wonders if I'll be trouble. One of the patients in particular is watching me. He has short black hair and looks a bit scrawny, but not as scrawny as I am. I wonder if he can tell. I'm the only girl here, I think to myself. I'm not entirely a girl, though. At least, not to most people. I hope I even look like a girl. I grew my blonde hair out to reach my shoulders and my face is somewhat feminine, but I still have the overall body structure of a male. Every day, I look at myself in the mirror and I hate myself. I'm ugly. I'm an ugly hybrid freak. That's what I see in the mirror.
My room is large. The floor is tile and the ceiling is high so that no one can hang themselves. There are two beds. I assume the one without any blankets is mine. The girl escorting me says something, but I'm not entirely listening. I lazily make my bed without any real effort. I sit on the edge when I'm done. There's a doorless wardrobe with two drawers on the bottom. There's also one on my roommate's side of the room. There's a large desk on the far wall that I assume we will have to share. There is also a bathroom. It has no door, only a heavy plastic curtain that velcroes onto the wall. I'm about to stand when the Asian lady comes back. She shows me a plastic box with a small toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, a brush, a comb, and deodorant. There is no conditioner. I frown. She sees me frown.
"This is your hygiene bucket," she explains. "We'll get it out for you in the morning, when you shower, and at night. Okay?" She smiles. I just nod. I would give anything to be alone.
I would give anything to be alone.
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