Essay

The door lets out a soft click as I leaned my back to the wall, taking in the sight of white everywhere, I inhaled deeply, smelling something like mint lingering in the air and exhaled with the same amount of force.

My fingers ache from not moving and the nerve-wrecking aura of this setting, puts me in a state of melancholy.

I knocked softly on his hospital door. I heard nothing, no response. My hand swipes over the knob, and I waver. Though impatience was nipping at my lower neck, I just shuddered.

I'm obviously showing my dependence toward him. I hadn't done that with anyone in a very long time, and it feels utterly wrong of me. Though, consequently doing this, it brings me a peculiar sense of elation.

This isn't the first letter I've written to you. I've written to you in the dead of night, paragraphs upon paragraphs that you'd open in the morning. Guess who never got those cute messages, oh yeah, it was me.

Have You Ever Heard Toads Singing?

April

April is a gray month. It is a blue month. Not a pink, yellow or green month. Everyday it changes from a blue day to a gray day. April means new leaves are forming and the bunnies will come out to hide eggs.


May

I watch silently as a woman brings in another one, strapped to the chair. This one is quiet as she is placed in front of a table. Beside her, a fellow resident is pouring milk into his napkin with determination.

College. University. The next step.