By: Melody TymeMy bags were packed and I sat in the car, excited about the turn of events but still having butterflies flutter in my stomache. My dad was different, not like normal. He seemed distant and didn't want to talk with me. I thought at first he was mad but the truth was he'd miss me.
Off we went, driving miles away from home, to what would soon be my new place. Miles away from where I knew, high above the streets was a room just for me. My father was given orders to send me away for a while and he wasn't quite happy. No one was allowed to know where I was. We said our goodbyes and out the door they left. The door was made of steel and automatically locked once closed.
I was now stuck in a floor that I couldn't leave without being escorted around. I sat on my bed watching out the window as my parents drove away. Tears flowed down my cheeks and I wondered if I'd ever be allowed to go home. My bedroom consisted of two beds, one for me and one for my roommate. A tiny shower and toilet and a mirror with a sink. I wasn't allowed razors, perfumes, make-up, etc. My clothes were placed in drawers under my bed. My window was large with bars across it so that I could not get out. I lay in bed trying to sleep not wanting to leave, not wanting to see who else lived here in this floor or room.
After about 30 minutes my roommate came in and introduced herself. She was nice and we clicked immediately. This wasn't the place I thought it would be. This was a hospital but not of loons like everyone made it out to sound. This was a place to help children that tried to commit suicide or that ditched school.
I was given a time chart of when we were to do school studies, physical education, art, lunch, showers, etc. This was like a tiny camp away from home. We went on field trips to the beach, park, or museum.
I grew connected with the children in this place, the staff was friendly and really cared for the patients. Clowns would pay us a visit, as well as writers and radio hosts. No one treated us as if we had the plague and would harm them. For those that don't know, children of all ages went to this hospital. I watched as a little 7 year old boy was brought in because his family couldn't control him. Another boy of 12 waited by the door on the weekends to see his dad, but he never showed up. These were only little children that had done nothing wrong except have temper tantrums or actually tried suicide because of something tramatic that happened to them.
By the time two months had passed we all knew each other and were like a tiny family. Now was time for the 7 year old to leave, we decided to throw him a party. We decorated with colored chains made from paper and someone brought in a cake and ice cream. One week later I left. But for me I would miss this place. For when I got home it would be different, people would think I was crazy if they ever found out where I'd been so I once again had to keep the secret and tell no one...for no one would understand.
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