Chapter 9: Seven - Breakfast

Breakfast

October:

They were never going to leave me alone.

“Why, are you making a new friend, Dear? He’ll make a good addition to our collection.” Those were the words that were whispered into my ear when I was shaking Parish’s hand.

A good addition to our collection? What did that even mean? Were they going to kill him too, the way they had killed Uncle Charlie and Aunt Rosaline? I couldn’t have any more blood on my hands. No one else was going to die because I was such a freak. No one.

They’d threatened Kara once, but that was only when they realized that she and I were becoming friends. This was the first time they’d ever threatened someone I’d just met. What was the deal with that? Had they grown bored and suddenly decided to start killing everyone I’d exchanged more than a few words with? It really didn’t make sense why they wanted Parish, of all people – but hey, who was I to question the logic behind some psycho spirit-voices’ decisions?

I sat up in bed and stretched my arms over my head. I had barely gotten more than four hours of sleep. What with the nightmares and worrying about the voices’ change of M.O – those kind of things could mess with a girl’s sleeping schedule.

A loud guffaw made me jump mid-yawn. I twisted around to see Kara standing at the foot of her bed, laughing at my morning stretch-routine. For some reason, she always found that very entertaining.

“What?” I asked irritably as I slipped onto the ground and proceeded to make my bed.

“Nothing.” She replied with a grin. “You just remind me of Cookie.”

“Cookie?” I raised an eyebrow.

“My Persian cat back home.”

“You named your cat Cookie?”

“I was five. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I shook my head. “God bless that cat.” I furiously fluffed up my pillow and threw it back onto the bed.

Kara gave me a wry look as she dropped down to her bed. “Okay, spill. What’s with the mood?”

“What mood?”

“The one you’re in.”

I tucked the corners of my sheets in and flattened out all the creases from the bedspread. “You mean this fantastically chipper mood?” I asked sarcastically as I rummaged the wardrobe for my favorite pair of jeans.

I could hear the impatience in Kara’s voice when she answered. “Would you please drop the sarcasm and tell me?”

I sighed in defeat. As I may have mentioned before, there was no arguing with Kara. “I had a little run in with the MPD boy last night.” I yanked out the jeans and a yellow tank top and tossed it onto the bed. “He isn’t really the best company in the world.”

“You met the new kid?” She asked incredulously, eyes bulging.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Let me get this straight. Yesterday, you had the great privilege of meeting both the new Doctor and the new kid?” She hitched her sweat pants up a little higher. “Man, you’re one lucky girl.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call meeting Parish a privilege but—”

“Parish?” She interrupted excitedly. “Is that his name? Parish?”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “Parish Feltman.”

“Hmm… Parish…” She got this weird, evil-looking glint in her eye. “Sexy name.”

“Sexy? Really? Every time I hear it, I always think of Father Joseph, from my church back home.”

Kara shot me another dry look. “It’s unusual, okay? And to me, unusual equals sexy.”

“Really? Well, in that case everyone in here is sexy, seeing as how this is an institution for mentally troubled teenagers. We don’t really fit the “usual” bill, now do we?”

She chucked her thickest and heaviest jacket at my face for that one. By the time I had managed to peel it off, she had already left the room for breakfast. I was left all alone with nothing but my muddled-up thoughts to keep me company.  I stretched my arms over my head before heading out of the room for a shower.

When I emerged from the bathroom, clad in my favorite pair of jeans and the yellow tank top that my cousin Carrie had given me for my birthday, I found myself staring into Kara’s twinkling baby blues.

“What?” I asked suspiciously. I didn’t like the pleased look she was wearing. Whenever she wore that expression, it meant that I had something to be worried about. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Her dangerously pleased smile widened. “I just came up here to tell you that there’s French toast for breakfast, if you’re interested.”

My eyes narrowed. The Institute was big on the whole healthy-eating bit, and only served French toast for breakfast on special occasions. Our normal breakfast here consisted of oatmeal, porridge and low-sugar cereals. I’m not even kidding. Frosted Flakes were practically contraband.

The last time we’d had French toast for breakfast was on Mack Hardy’s last day at the Institute. His parents had picked him up right after breakfast and the nurses made sure we went straight back to the cardboard crap they normally force into our systems for lunch and dinner.

That being said, I still didn’t believe that the reason behind the weird vibe I was getting from Kara was because of what we were going to be eating for breakfast this morning. Don’t get me wrong, it was weird for the nurses to be serving us actual food, but Kara looked as if she was entertained. And trust me; if anyone knew my bi-polar roommate’s slightly twisted sense of humor, it was me.

If Dr. Larkson knew what was going on in my head, she’d have told me that I was being paranoid for thinking that Kara was up to something and blame it on the schizophrenia. I, however, knew that the paranoia was warranted.

“Uh-huh.” I replied, not wanting to let Kara know that I smelled a rat. “That’s weird.”

“What do you think is going on?” She asked.

I shut the bathroom door behind me softly and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Bethany’s finally getting discharged?”

We fell into a second’s silence before bursting into peals of laughter, filling the corridors with our guffaws.

“Oh,” Kara cried as she straightened up and wiped a single tear from her eye. “That was a good one.”

“Yeah, it was.” I nodded, agreeing. “But they’re probably just trying to give Dr. Michelson a good first impression. We’ll be back to oatmeal by tomorrow.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” She replied, making a sad face. “I was hoping that they’d decided to feed us real food.”

“Please. Pigs will fly and speak seven different languages before that happens.”

“I guess you—”

“October!” Kara and whipped around at the sound of Patty’s voice.

“Yes, Patty?” I asked casually as she walked towards us.

“You’re late for your first session with Dr. Michelson.” She replied, sounding flustered. “He’s been waiting for you.”

I could practically feel my eyes bulging out of my head.

“W-what?” I stammered, astounded. “But Patty, it’s only eight-thirty! I haven’t even had any breakfast yet!”

“You haven’t had breakfast yet?  Dear, breakfast is almost over. What were you doing all this time?” Patty asked, with a disapproving look plastered all over her face.

“I only woke up a few minutes ago.” I replied, sheepishly.

Patty tsk-ed. “Well, that’s your own fault. Kara can grab something for you before breakfast is cleared away, but you have to get to Dr. Michelson’s office right now.”

I let out a heavy sigh as soon as Patty’s back was turned.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” I asked Kara without even turning to look at her. I didn’t need to. I could literally feel her smiling behind me.

“Me?” She asked in a fake innocent voice. “What makes you think I knew?”

“Cut the act, Kara.” I snapped irritably as I marched along the corridor behind Patty. “I know you too well.”

She chuckled.

“I’m sorry, October. I saw the schedule on the bulletin board in the kitchen and, well, it was just so amusing.” She noticed the death glare I was giving her. “Why are you looking so murderous? I’d kill to have a session with Dr. McDreamy.”

“You’re more than welcome to take my place, if you’re so desperate to see him.”

She frowned. “What’s your beef with the guy, anyway? I’d have expected you to be a little more excited about having him as your doctor instead of Larkson.”

It was my turn to frown. As much as I detested Dr. Larkson, I couldn’t really thank my stars that I’d gotten Doctor Michelson instead. He was here because I was too much for Dr. Larkson to handle. Because I was sicker and more messed up than Sid, Kara and even Bethany.

“I don’t have any beef with him.” I replied curtly. “I just don’t find the thought of being locked up in a Doctor’s office for an hour, talking about my childhood as exciting as you do.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”

I raised my eyebrow. Kara had her faults, most of which were thanks to the fact that she was bipolar, but she hardly ever swore.

“Believe what you want,” I replied, shrugging, “but it’s the truth. I don’t have any beef with the guy.”

“Did he make a pass at you?”

I stopped dead in my tracks so suddenly that Kara smacked into me, banging her nose against the back of my skull. “What? Are you insane? Of course not.”

She held out her hands in a defensive gesture. “Hey, don’t look at me. I was just trying to figure out why you don’t like the guy, is all.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him, Kara. I’m just not excited about the fact that he’s going to be helping me ‘get better’, okay?”

“Oh.” Finally understanding what I had been trying to tell her, she gave me a sheepish look before shutting her mouth with an audible click. I was sure that she’d already prepared a snippy comeback, but once she’d realized what I’d been getting at, she was too embarrassed to continue.

We walked in silence for a while before she glanced at me slyly and said, “I’m still coming to get a peek at him, okay? So don’t try and stop me.”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “Can anyone ever stop you from doing what you want?”

She chuckled just as we reached Dr. Michelson’s office.

“Dr. Michelson?” Patty called as she rapped against the hard oak wood door. “October’s here for her first session.”

I grimaced behind Patty’s back. I was so not ready for this.

We heard loud scratching sounds as a chair was pushed back against the hardwood floor, followed by a few loud footsteps. The door opened to reveal Dr. Michelson’s smiling face and I felt Kara stiffen beside me.

“Oh, my God…” She breathed into my ear, sounding as if she had just witnessed a UFO landing.

“October!” Dr. Michelson greeted me enthusiastically, mercifully unaware of the bipolar teenager swooning over him behind my back. “You’re here! Great. Come in, please.”

I flashed Kara an unhappy look over my shoulder and saw her give me an incredulous one in return. She as probably reconsidering what she said about not thinking I was crazy.

Still oblivious to our silent conversation, Dr. Michelson ushered me into his office. “Take a seat, October. I’m really looking forward to our first session.”

Oh yeah, Doc, I thought sarcastically, me too.

I was just about to spend an hour discussing my childhood with a complete stranger to try and figure out why I was psychologically damaged. Goodie.