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[1x1] Afternoon, Hospital Third Floor
Feb. 16th, 2013 08:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
worstoftwomindsA stairwell door opened. Noise echoed up, overlapping and distressed. Then it cut off, the room shielded by the door slamming shut again.
That was all Faruq really knew of the anxiety running rampant downstairs, the last couple weeks. There just weren't enough people up here to fill in anything. The few other patients up here, not tied down so tight or kept in sight, must have bolted before everyone got paranoid. The usual visitors – his included – weren't to be seen. Even his nurse. She came in, checked on him, gave him his food, but she'd gone from boring to a leaky faucet, ducking out sobbing the second he looked at her.
A pain.
The worst part was, whatever was going on, there was no chance to slip out. No time in the third floor group room this week, no third watch forgetting to lock his door. He would have gone crazy, if he hadn't come up with small ways to pass time, long ago. Like scratching up the more boring discs he got from that aunt out of state, and seeing how many pieces he could break them into before an orderly stole his work. Usually he barely made it to ten. Today, his food tray was covered in ground pieces of a lullaby set, and he was trying to crack perfect, shiny squares out of some fantasy book on tape.
He had two good ones and about six or seven chucked tries when his door opened, and he slid the mess into his lap while the curtains still blocked him from view, hiding them between his knees and sheets. He wasn't ready to give up this distraction, yet.. and the sharp extra pieces looked promising.
That was all Faruq really knew of the anxiety running rampant downstairs, the last couple weeks. There just weren't enough people up here to fill in anything. The few other patients up here, not tied down so tight or kept in sight, must have bolted before everyone got paranoid. The usual visitors – his included – weren't to be seen. Even his nurse. She came in, checked on him, gave him his food, but she'd gone from boring to a leaky faucet, ducking out sobbing the second he looked at her.
A pain.
The worst part was, whatever was going on, there was no chance to slip out. No time in the third floor group room this week, no third watch forgetting to lock his door. He would have gone crazy, if he hadn't come up with small ways to pass time, long ago. Like scratching up the more boring discs he got from that aunt out of state, and seeing how many pieces he could break them into before an orderly stole his work. Usually he barely made it to ten. Today, his food tray was covered in ground pieces of a lullaby set, and he was trying to crack perfect, shiny squares out of some fantasy book on tape.
He had two good ones and about six or seven chucked tries when his door opened, and he slid the mess into his lap while the curtains still blocked him from view, hiding them between his knees and sheets. He wasn't ready to give up this distraction, yet.. and the sharp extra pieces looked promising.