Welcome the The Inpatient Society. Set in Crystal Bay, Florida, we are a site that centers around a children's hospital. Whether you're a patient, a doctor, a friend, or just a random passerby, everyone is welcome here!
Post by Bailey Henneth on Nov 28, 2014 17:48:26 GMT -5
Bailey's eyes flinched from the knock off Michael Kor's watch on her wrist to the hands of the bold, framed clock on the wall. The clock was four seconds fast, or maybe she was four seconds slow. Either way, it was four seconds past the designated meeting time of her and the smudgy nervous boy she'd met earlier.
I said five o' clock on the fucking dot. I swear. Okay, or was it five thirty? Oh wellll.
She clicked the nib of her pen against the desk in patterns to pass the time, her curious gaze wandering the room, scoping it for any suspicious eyes. She'd been clicking her pen in between bouts of blowing wads of paper at two hunched over girls at a table, their expressions bright and full of knowledge.
Wow, they know Calculus. Whoopdy- fucking-doo. What's that gonna do for them in life? You'll have to deal with college. Ew. Praying for them.
She was even more mouthy in her mind than she was verbally. She'd rather be bored than be caught glimpsing at their startling collection of self-help books.
Post by Ash Caplin on Nov 28, 2014 18:17:51 GMT -5
Ash was never one to be late. Ever. He was one of those people that prided themselves in their punctuality, mainly because he got irrationally anxious if he wasn't on time, only assuming the worst in the situations he was going to before he got there. What if he arrived late, and everyone had left already? What if he arrived, and everyone had gotten into some sort of trouble whilst he was gone? The possibilities of what could've happened whilst he was away spiraling in his head until he usually ended up running to his destination, just in case he didn't make it there on time. He was usually early.
Today, surprisingly, he was a whole eight seconds late. He blamed it on the heightened anxiety. Not only was he off his meds, which was kind of sort of his own fault, but he was also just a little bit terrified about what he'd agreed to do. How did this even happen? He was a mess of angst ridden nerves, symptoms of the anxiety starting to actually show through physically, transitioning from his head to his hands like a cancer, growing and twisting until he'd had to resort to shoving his hands in his pockets almost twenty-four seven just to stop the shaking. Sure, they didn't shake all the time, but Ash had always been the type to use precaution.
Better be safe than sorry, right?
Right.
Slipping into the library, he pushed against the bottom of the door with his feet, face scrunching slightly until he heard the door close with a distinct "click". Good, it was shut. It was definitely shut. Nothing to worry about. There was absolutely no need to open and close it again, right? He opened and closed it again anyway. He had to. Forcing off the urge to do it again (just to be absolutely positively sure that it was closed), he made his way over to Bailey, slipping into his usual spot, which was luckily next to where Bailey had chosen to sit, he offered her a smile, quickly spilling the words, "sorry I'm late."
Post by Bailey Henneth on Nov 28, 2014 18:35:21 GMT -5
The door opened and shut. She didn't look up. It open and shut. This time, she tipped her head upward, and found herself peering at Ash, who always looked so goddamned pained...
She passed her tongue over her wine lips and smiled a gentle, charming sort of smile. "Oh, you're fine, sweetie. I know you said not to pay you back, but I got you something. It'll make you feel confident. Happy, maybe-" Adderal. She explained, twisting the top off her pen. Two pills chattered out onto the laminated table top. She stopped the sound with her cupped palm and slid them over. "An eye for an eye," She winked. Bailey was aware of all the background noises. She knew the precautionary measures. They were safe. Small talk was dull.
Hospital life was dull. Her head throbbed with anticipation. She needed one last cheap thrill. She wanted to live past addiction, but her problems had only just begun.
It was hard to kiss the pills goodbye, but all goodbyes were difficult.
Last Edit: Nov 28, 2014 18:36:40 GMT -5 by Bailey Henneth
Post by Ash Caplin on Nov 28, 2014 19:42:17 GMT -5
How was he - how did you respond to someone offering you prescription drugs? Logically, he should say no. Honestly, he wanted to say no. And yet for some reason the word didn't spill out of his mouth as easily as usual. Maybe it was because she was actually offering something he wanted - something he wanted more than anything else he could really bare to think about. Sure, he wanted out of the hospital, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon, and he knew that. But if he could switch off everything eating his brain? Well he might just avoid being on the verge of a mental breakdown every single time that he couldn't remember if he'd closed the door properly.
The girl was just offering him a break, and it was clear to see he needed it.
So he smiled, not quite sure how he'd talked himself into this - he wasn't really a risk taker. He liked order, repetitiveness, logic. Drugs weren't any of those, even if they weren't exactly illegal. The frame of his hand still shook as he reached for the pale pills, just about managing to ignore the part of his brain screaming that this was a very, very bad idea. He took them anyway, holding the pair in his hand as his gaze flickered between them and Bailey, one eyebrow raised at her curiously. "Are you sure? I really don't mind..." he trailed off, knowing that that last bit was a slight lie. Bailey had suggested they'd make him feel confident, happy, and he couldn't pretend those weren't two things he'd missed. Besides, he'd always been a good boy and had never not taken his medication - who cared if it wasn't technically "meant" for him?
Post by Bailey Henneth on Nov 28, 2014 20:29:29 GMT -5
"Hey, hey!" Bailey snapped at him to drag him out of his stupor, but he was already on responding at that point. "One time won't hurt you. And I am so sure. I don't fuck with uppers," She said it quietly and lightly, her soulless looking eyes pin-pointed at him. At the same time, though, they were kind. Like even though she was exhausted, she was trying.
She stretched her clammy hand out. "Here, give me mine. We can take 'em at the same time. Then we'll go somewhere quiet. I'll watch over you." For someone so crazy, she was kind. Even if her methods of helping people were borderline awful, she was trying to help. It couldn't hurt Ash to feel free. "You can wiggle out of your cocoon and be a fucking butterfly." A short pitch of laughter escaped her.
This is a bad idea. Fuck it. Fuck it, one last time.
Ash just looked confused for a moment, honestly not quite sure if she meant his anxiety meds, or one of the pills in his hand. His brow furrowed then, fingers threatening to quake and shiver again as he failed to comprehend what she meant fast enough, something that used to bother him a lot less. Still, it was bothering him now, because he felt embarrassed by the confusion - almost wrong for it - like he was meant to understand but didn't, and that was what was driving him to do the things he was. Still, he took the precaution of doing both, sliding one of the pills already in his hand over to her and then routing around in his pocket, bony fingers brushing soft fabric until they closed around the hard plastic of the pill box, and he placed it gently on the table, careful to make as little noise as possible.
He didn't want to bring any attention to the pair of them; it'd only end badly. He didn't want trouble. Trouble never ended well.
After depositing what he assumed were the correct pills on the table, he quickly withdrew his arms, folding them in front of him as two fingers on his right hand pulled on the fabric of his shirt, a nervous habit he'd picked up a long time ago, and most of the time didn't even realise he was doing. This was going to end badly, he could feel it, and yet he didn't stop it from happened, and even forced a bright smile onto his face, like he was actually excited by the idea.
Post by Bailey Henneth on Dec 6, 2014 19:59:02 GMT -5
Bailey lifted her brows, watching his expressions with mild concern. She had anxieties of her own, but to the degree he was at felt like too much pain to bare. She eyed the anxiety medication he'd passed over. "It's Adderal, Ash." She lowered her voice to a dull whisper, then tipped her head back and stuck the pills in her mouth, downing them dry much like a shot.
Ash was tricky. His anxieties seemed to have anxieties. She reached over, stretching a great deal to take his free hand. She grasped it and gave it a squeeze, her palm smooth against his. "Hey, snap out of it. Take 'em or leave 'em, Ash. You won't get an offer like this again, 'cause I'm sure as shit not going to ask you to give your meds up for me again."
