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April 19th, 2017
Who: Jesse and Seraphine AKA Grim and Femme
Where: The Van Der Knapp Institute, New York
When: Late in the night of April 19th, 2017
Why: Jesse has just been released from the infirmary
Jesse had spent the last week confined to the infirmary, strapped to a bed and mostly sedated. Most of the week had been a blur of real life, punctuated by visions of a dark figure and the smiling face of his brother. He was released in the late afternoon, the day before his birthday, but all they'd done was lay him in his own bed as he was still too sedated to do much of anything. When he came to it was the middle of the night and it took him quite a while to get his bearings. His roommate couldn't sleep without a night light and so the room was gently illuminated around him. He was sore, and still felt so tired as he tried to sit up. He sat slumped on the edge of the bed, trying to come back to reality. His fingers found the bandages at his wrists. Those were real. He realized that he'd hurt himself again, but he smiled to himself when he remembered how it was only in his blood-letting stupor that he was still able to see Isaac swim before him in visions that were more alive than anything he experienced from day to day.
He stood shakily from the bed, his legs were weak from the last week he'd spent in bed. Sam was sleeping soundly beside him for once and he had little trouble retrieving one of his t-shirts from the safety-dresser and pulling it over his head. His wrists sang out in pain, but it was only a sweet reminder of the time he'd spent with his brother this last week. He quietly opened the door and looked down the hall in both directions. He saw the edge of a boot as the night orderly turned the far corner on his nightly rounds. He stepped out into the hall, the wood floor was cold on his bare feet but he didn't notice it too much. He closed the door behind him and wobbled as silently as he could down the hall in the opposite direction of the orderly. He thought about finding the others, to tell them what he'd seen, but he didn't want to wake them up- he just knew he couldn't stay in bed any longer he needed to move about. He made his way to the common room that joined the male and female wards.
The orderly would find him eventually but he could at least have a good twenty minutes of peace before that happened. He plopped onto the overstuffed couch and tucked his cold feet beneath his folded legs. He tried to remember what had happened before the visions but he was having trouble. He knew that he'd cut himself again, but whether it had been with the clay sculpting tools in the art room or the screw he'd managed to remove from the window sill he couldn't remember. There was something about the art room that sounded right but that could have been from before, there were too many drugs still floating around in his system for him to recall clearly. As he sat there trying to remember it was a challenge just for him to stay awake. He hated how much sedative they gave him, it interfered with the purity of his visions. He remembered the first time he'd tried to kill himself, how rapturous the feeling had been of his blood leaving him and Isaac's smiling face rising out of the painful haze. Nothing compared to that first time.
Where: The Van Der Knapp Institute, New York
When: Late in the night of April 19th, 2017
Why: Jesse has just been released from the infirmary
Jesse had spent the last week confined to the infirmary, strapped to a bed and mostly sedated. Most of the week had been a blur of real life, punctuated by visions of a dark figure and the smiling face of his brother. He was released in the late afternoon, the day before his birthday, but all they'd done was lay him in his own bed as he was still too sedated to do much of anything. When he came to it was the middle of the night and it took him quite a while to get his bearings. His roommate couldn't sleep without a night light and so the room was gently illuminated around him. He was sore, and still felt so tired as he tried to sit up. He sat slumped on the edge of the bed, trying to come back to reality. His fingers found the bandages at his wrists. Those were real. He realized that he'd hurt himself again, but he smiled to himself when he remembered how it was only in his blood-letting stupor that he was still able to see Isaac swim before him in visions that were more alive than anything he experienced from day to day.
He stood shakily from the bed, his legs were weak from the last week he'd spent in bed. Sam was sleeping soundly beside him for once and he had little trouble retrieving one of his t-shirts from the safety-dresser and pulling it over his head. His wrists sang out in pain, but it was only a sweet reminder of the time he'd spent with his brother this last week. He quietly opened the door and looked down the hall in both directions. He saw the edge of a boot as the night orderly turned the far corner on his nightly rounds. He stepped out into the hall, the wood floor was cold on his bare feet but he didn't notice it too much. He closed the door behind him and wobbled as silently as he could down the hall in the opposite direction of the orderly. He thought about finding the others, to tell them what he'd seen, but he didn't want to wake them up- he just knew he couldn't stay in bed any longer he needed to move about. He made his way to the common room that joined the male and female wards.
The orderly would find him eventually but he could at least have a good twenty minutes of peace before that happened. He plopped onto the overstuffed couch and tucked his cold feet beneath his folded legs. He tried to remember what had happened before the visions but he was having trouble. He knew that he'd cut himself again, but whether it had been with the clay sculpting tools in the art room or the screw he'd managed to remove from the window sill he couldn't remember. There was something about the art room that sounded right but that could have been from before, there were too many drugs still floating around in his system for him to recall clearly. As he sat there trying to remember it was a challenge just for him to stay awake. He hated how much sedative they gave him, it interfered with the purity of his visions. He remembered the first time he'd tried to kill himself, how rapturous the feeling had been of his blood leaving him and Isaac's smiling face rising out of the painful haze. Nothing compared to that first time.