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Description
The next morning, after I finish eating I am escorted to an individual therapy session. I was closed in a dimly lit room with a woman who said her name was Anna.
I am still enclosed in the room after minutes of silence. She wants to talk but I don’t. I watch the clock intently until she stands and tells me our time is over and that she’ll see me tomorrow.

I am escorted back to my room and told that I can also watch TV in the open area with other patients. I assumed Mikey was at some sort of therapy as well, so I shake my head and the escort leaves. I settle down on my bed and take out a book I had hid under my pillow. I open it and sit up and read silently until Mikey returns.
“Hey,” Mikey greets me and I look up from my book.
“Hey,” I reply. “Where were you?”
“Therapy,” he says simply. “How are you?” he asks and walks over to his bed and sits down.
“Fine,” I murmur. “Do you ever talk in your therapy?” I ask.
Mikey shrugs. “Sometimes. Not usually though. I sit in silence and look for changes in my therapist’s room.”
I nod and set my book down next to me. “You got any implements to cut with with you?” I ask.
He nods and replies,” I had chicken the first night I was here and I kept the plastic knife.”
“Do you have it?” I ask. “Can I use it?” I pause for a moment and continue, “Wait do you use it?”
Mikey nods. “Why do you care?” he asks and leans over and takes the knife from under his pillow. “Someone told me we’re having chicken again tomorrow,” He says and extends the plastic utensil for me to take.
I take it and shrug. “I don’t know any of my reasoning. Ever. I just act,” I state and pull up the long black sleeve of my shirt.
Mikey watches me as I lay the knife across my arm and says, “I’m like that too.”
I rub it back and forth a couple times until there is a good-sized cut on my arm. I hand him back the knife and watch the blood come from my wrist. Mikey plays with the knife a moment and pulls up the sleeve of his own shirt. I look at it and it’s criss crossed cuts and scars.
“You gonna cut?” I ask as he places the knife on his wrist.
Mikey nods and says, “I want to share blood.”
This sounds odd to me so I ask, “What?”
He begins to run the knife back and forth on his wrist. It doesn’t take long for him to break the skin. He sets the knife down next to him and watches the blood for a moment before speaking.
“Give me your wrist,” he says.
I nod and stand up. I settle on the floor and extend my slowly bleeding arm. He follows my lead and slips off the edge of his bed and sits across from me. He takes my bleeding wrist with his non-bleeding wrist’s hand and holds my wrist to his bleeding wrist.
“Now we are bound by blood,” Mikey whispers and releases my wrist.
“I love you,” I say and lean forward and embrace him.
He holds me for a moment. I could hear his breathing in my ear. It sounded nervous and heavy. We release each other and I realize that I had scooted closer to him. We sit there; eyes locked.
After some silence he places his left hand on my cheek and leans in for a kiss. My head grows light and our lips lock. It is a small delicate kiss and is soon over. Mikey removes his hand from my cheek and says something. My mind was a faint haze and I fall forward into his arms, blacking out.

I awoke in a hospital bed. I was guessing Mikey and I were found. I sit up and notice another bed across from me and sitting there reading a book is Mikey. I smile but he doesn’t see. I slide back down in my bed and turn over to sleep. I pull my wrist out from under the blanket to see it tightly wrapped in white gauze. I sigh and close my eyes. Exhaustion washes over me and I am soon asleep.

I return to the ward mid-afternoon. Mikey had left before me and I found him waiting on his bed when I enter our room. I breathe in deep and walk to my bed and sit down.
“Hey,” Mikey greets me with a smile. “I guess we got found yesterday,” he continues to say and holds up his wrist to show a white bandage like mine.
“Hey,” I greet him and hesitate for a moment. “They say I can go home because my insurance doesn’t cover this stuff. Brian is coming to pick me up.”
Mikey sits in silence as I walk over to my brown paper bag. I sort through my things and walk to the bathroom. I stay there a moment gathering my toiletries from the sink area. I hear movement in our room and come back out with my things. Mikey is sitting with his head hung low. I ignore this for now and go back to my bag of things. I see a piece of paper on the top and take it. I drop my final things in the bag and return to sitting on my bed. I unfold the paper and smile. I walk over to sit next to Mikey.
“You want my info for when you get out?” I ask.
Mikey nods and takes a pen from his pocket.
“Write it on the paper and tear off that bit,” he instructs me.
I follow his words and write down my phone number, AIM sn, and my address. I tear off the small piece of paper from the bottom of the note he had given me and hand him the pen and paper back.
“Thanks,” he says and takes them. “I’ll call you when I’m out or you can arrange to come with my brother. He’s willing to leave us alone if we need it.”
I smile, nod, and embrace him. When I release him a nurse appears in the doorway. It was time for me to go. I gather my things and follow the nurse out. I wave one last time to a gloomy looking Mikey and walk off.

I return to my apartment building. Brian had given me my key back before driving off. He claimed he was going back to his hotel. I sigh and enter the building and start up the stairs.
I swing my apartment door open only moments later. The chilled air washes over me and I shiver under my clothes. I step in and drop my bag to the side of me and walk to my tattered grey couch, I settle down on its uncomfortable cushions. It felt odd not seeing Mikey and being home. The cold air was making me too uncomfortably cold so I pull one of my tattered, worn blankets over and lay down. I throw the blanket over my body and instantly feel warmer. This feeling makes things get blurry and my eyes grow heavy. I drift into a heavy sleep.

I wake up on the floor between the couch and my small wooden coffee table to the sound of my phone ringing. I sit up and walk across the room to where my phone was ringing. I pick it up to hear Gerard’s voice nicely greeting me.
“Hey Arienette. I’m going to visit Mikey tonight. You wanna come?” he asks after his greeting.
“Uh. Sure,” I reply and cough a few times. My head grows light and my mind weary.
“You okay?” Gerard asks upon hearing my coughs.
I cough a couple more times and say, “I’m fine.” A headache begins in the middle of my head and my grip loosens on the phone.
“You sure?” he asks.
I daze out and feel the phone drops from my hand. I hear Gerard repeating his question as my knees noiselessly give. I feel the cold wood as my mind goes dark and everything is gone.

A big thud sound make my eyes shoot open. My lungs felt constricted and I couldn’t get my body to move. My blurry vision spot feet moving toward me and kneeling by my side. I hear the person speak but don’t know what he said. He sits me up in his arms and presses his surprisingly warm fingers to my neck. My vision switches between focused and unfocused ever couple seconds but I manage to guess the person checking my pulse was Gerard. He slowly lays me back down on the floor and takes out his cell phone and dials a number. I can’t tell who because my lungs constrict a bit more and I cough. My breathing stops altogether and time literally freezes. Gerard finishes his call and notices me.
“I hope Mikey doesn’t kill me for this,” he mutters quite loudly to himself.
He locks lips with me and begins a standard CPR procedure. I try to read his face but only see a brotherly concern. He pulls away and pushes down on my chest three times. I suddenly hear sirens in the streets and Gerard comes down again and locks lips once more. He presses on my chest again but all I listen to are the sirens. I couldn’t make out Gerard’s mutters and was soon caught in a moment of faintness and close my eyes.
I swear I died for at least a day because I was oblivious to the outside world. I could only see the images my mind was creating for me. I was replaying my life trying to find something. What? I don’t know but I felt like I was searching.

Description
The next morning, after I finish eating I am escorted to an individual therapy session. I was closed in a dimly lit room with a woman who said her name was Anna.
I am still enclosed in the room after minutes of silence. She wants to talk but I don’t. I watch the clock intently until she stands and tells me our time is over and that she’ll see me tomorrow.

I am escorted back to my room and told that I can also watch TV in the open area with other patients. I assumed Mikey was at some sort of therapy as well, so I shake my head and the escort leaves. I settle down on my bed and take out a book I had hid under my pillow. I open it and sit up and read silently until Mikey returns.
“Hey,” Mikey greets me and I look up from my book.
“Hey,” I reply. “Where were you?”
“Therapy,” he says simply. “How are you?” he asks and walks over to his bed and sits down.
“Fine,” I murmur. “Do you ever talk in your therapy?” I ask.
Mikey shrugs. “Sometimes. Not usually though. I sit in silence and look for changes in my therapist’s room.”
I nod and set my book down next to me. “You got any implements to cut with with you?” I ask.
He nods and replies,” I had chicken the first night I was here and I kept the plastic knife.”
“Do you have it?” I ask. “Can I use it?” I pause for a moment and continue, “Wait do you use it?”
Mikey nods. “Why do you care?” he asks and leans over and takes the knife from under his pillow. “Someone told me we’re having chicken again tomorrow,” He says and extends the plastic utensil for me to take.
I take it and shrug. “I don’t know any of my reasoning. Ever. I just act,” I state and pull up the long black sleeve of my shirt.
Mikey watches me as I lay the knife across my arm and says, “I’m like that too.”
I rub it back and forth a couple times until there is a good-sized cut on my arm. I hand him back the knife and watch the blood come from my wrist. Mikey plays with the knife a moment and pulls up the sleeve of his own shirt. I look at it and it’s criss crossed cuts and scars.
“You gonna cut?” I ask as he places the knife on his wrist.
Mikey nods and says, “I want to share blood.”
This sounds odd to me so I ask, “What?”
He begins to run the knife back and forth on his wrist. It doesn’t take long for him to break the skin. He sets the knife down next to him and watches the blood for a moment before speaking.
“Give me your wrist,” he says.
I nod and stand up. I settle on the floor and extend my slowly bleeding arm. He follows my lead and slips off the edge of his bed and sits across from me. He takes my bleeding wrist with his non-bleeding wrist’s hand and holds my wrist to his bleeding wrist.
“Now we are bound by blood,” Mikey whispers and releases my wrist.
“I love you,” I say and lean forward and embrace him.
He holds me for a moment. I could hear his breathing in my ear. It sounded nervous and heavy. We release each other and I realize that I had scooted closer to him. We sit there; eyes locked.
After some silence he places his left hand on my cheek and leans in for a kiss. My head grows light and our lips lock. It is a small delicate kiss and is soon over. Mikey removes his hand from my cheek and says something. My mind was a faint haze and I fall forward into his arms, blacking out.

I awoke in a hospital bed. I was guessing Mikey and I were found. I sit up and notice another bed across from me and sitting there reading a book is Mikey. I smile but he doesn’t see. I slide back down in my bed and turn over to sleep. I pull my wrist out from under the blanket to see it tightly wrapped in white gauze. I sigh and close my eyes. Exhaustion washes over me and I am soon asleep.

I return to the ward mid-afternoon. Mikey had left before me and I found him waiting on his bed when I enter our room. I breathe in deep and walk to my bed and sit down.
“Hey,” Mikey greets me with a smile. “I guess we got found yesterday,” he continues to say and holds up his wrist to show a white bandage like mine.
“Hey,” I greet him and hesitate for a moment. “They say I can go home because my insurance doesn’t cover this stuff. Brian is coming to pick me up.”
Mikey sits in silence as I walk over to my brown paper bag. I sort through my things and walk to the bathroom. I stay there a moment gathering my toiletries from the sink area. I hear movement in our room and come back out with my things. Mikey is sitting with his head hung low. I ignore this for now and go back to my bag of things. I see a piece of paper on the top and take it. I drop my final things in the bag and return to sitting on my bed. I unfold the paper and smile. I walk over to sit next to Mikey.
“You want my info for when you get out?” I ask.
Mikey nods and takes a pen from his pocket.
“Write it on the paper and tear off that bit,” he instructs me.
I follow his words and write down my phone number, AIM sn, and my address. I tear off the small piece of paper from the bottom of the note he had given me and hand him the pen and paper back.
“Thanks,” he says and takes them. “I’ll call you when I’m out or you can arrange to come with my brother. He’s willing to leave us alone if we need it.”
I smile, nod, and embrace him. When I release him a nurse appears in the doorway. It was time for me to go. I gather my things and follow the nurse out. I wave one last time to a gloomy looking Mikey and walk off.

I return to my apartment building. Brian had given me my key back before driving off. He claimed he was going back to his hotel. I sigh and enter the building and start up the stairs.
I swing my apartment door open only moments later. The chilled air washes over me and I shiver under my clothes. I step in and drop my bag to the side of me and walk to my tattered grey couch, I settle down on its uncomfortable cushions. It felt odd not seeing Mikey and being home. The cold air was making me too uncomfortably cold so I pull one of my tattered, worn blankets over and lay down. I throw the blanket over my body and instantly feel warmer. This feeling makes things get blurry and my eyes grow heavy. I drift into a heavy sleep.

I wake up on the floor between the couch and my small wooden coffee table to the sound of my phone ringing. I sit up and walk across the room to where my phone was ringing. I pick it up to hear Gerard’s voice nicely greeting me.
“Hey Arienette. I’m going to visit Mikey tonight. You wanna come?” he asks after his greeting.
“Uh. Sure,” I reply and cough a few times. My head grows light and my mind weary.
“You okay?” Gerard asks upon hearing my coughs.
I cough a couple more times and say, “I’m fine.” A headache begins in the middle of my head and my grip loosens on the phone.
“You sure?” he asks.
I daze out and feel the phone drops from my hand. I hear Gerard repeating his question as my knees noiselessly give. I feel the cold wood as my mind goes dark and everything is gone.

A big thud sound make my eyes shoot open. My lungs felt constricted and I couldn’t get my body to move. My blurry vision spot feet moving toward me and kneeling by my side. I hear the person speak but don’t know what he said. He sits me up in his arms and presses his surprisingly warm fingers to my neck. My vision switches between focused and unfocused ever couple seconds but I manage to guess the person checking my pulse was Gerard. He slowly lays me back down on the floor and takes out his cell phone and dials a number. I can’t tell who because my lungs constrict a bit more and I cough. My breathing stops altogether and time literally freezes. Gerard finishes his call and notices me.
“I hope Mikey doesn’t kill me for this,” he mutters quite loudly to himself.
He locks lips with me and begins a standard CPR procedure. I try to read his face but only see a brotherly concern. He pulls away and pushes down on my chest three times. I suddenly hear sirens in the streets and Gerard comes down again and locks lips once more. He presses on my chest again but all I listen to are the sirens. I couldn’t make out Gerard’s mutters and was soon caught in a moment of faintness and close my eyes.
I swear I died for at least a day because I was oblivious to the outside world. I could only see the images my mind was creating for me. I was replaying my life trying to find something. What? I don’t know but I felt like I was searching.