Reflections: A Book

TCB: C? - Waking Up

A stereo voice wakes me from the first restful sleep I've had in nearly two weeks. Good morning patrons. It's a beautiful morning this Friday. The date is May 18th and the time is 8:15 am. Breakfast is now served, everyone come to the dining center, breakfast is now served.

The cheerfulness emanating from the bodiless woman strikes a sharp contrast to my dull mood. I consider ignoring the voice but the pain radiating from my stomach urges me to venture out into the medicinal wilderness. Besides, last night made it clear that failure to comply willingly will lead to forceful acquiescence.

The hallway from last night, or earlier this morning, I'm still not sure which, is bright and welcoming. A tall thin white man that clearly has the look of a career homeless person is slowly trudging to the left. I leave the security of my hallway to follow him the few feet to the communal area. An auburn haired lady with a high voice is pulling trays from a metal box and calling out names. There is at least one person already seated at each table.

A petite middle-aged man is sitting at the long table furthest from me but closest to the window. Mr. Homeless lays claim to the other half of the huge table. A flamboyant young black girl sits at one of the four remaining round tables. A young scared looking boy sits at the second. An older angry looking man at the third and a not quite so angry woman at the fourth table closest to me.
Not yet ready to decide who I should share a table with I stand mutely next to the food cart.

"What's your name dear?"

"Anna Watkins."

"O dear, it doesn't look as if they've made a tray for you yet. Here's a house tray and here's a menu, be sure to fill that out so you can get what you want tomorrow." I take my food and abruptly decide to sit with the less angry woman nearest me. She seems annoyed and a bit taken aback by my decision but I just smile at her.

"Good morning!" Her consternation eases a bit.

"Morning." She doesn't seem keen to continue conversing and my stomach is practically howling with the smell of the tray before me, so I don't press the issue.

*describe food, not that good, spend time filling out menu*
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Halfway through breakfast doctors begin making rounds and speaking to patients.

A young caramel skinned girl walks up to me. "Hi, Anna?" I nod not wanting to speak with food in my mouth. "May I talk with you for a minute?"

"Sure." She takes the seat my breakfast mate has vacated.

" *she asks questions about what I remember last night, how I'm feeling, do I feel suicidal, etc.* "

" *I respond that nothing is making sense and I'm not sure why I'm here and I'm feeling paranoid, etc.* "

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