Attempted Sleep or Stress Relief? [CLOSED]

The lack of rest was really starting to get to me.

It was weird, just being here made me uneasy. Nights were either full of scream, which was unnerving, or dead silent, which was maybe even more unnerving than the screams. I don't think I had gotten a full night worth of sleep in the week that I'd been here, and it was starting to show. When I got tired I would snap at people more, things got under my skin easier... I thought I'd done pretty well at biting my tongue, though. I had only screamed at a few people, and it was usually when they were far enough away to not notice it, or through walls, which made it even harder to gauge who was speaking.

"Fuck, that probably makes people think I'm actually crazy," I said out loud, laughing at myself.

I was honestly surprised I hadn't punched anything yet. The stress of having to walk these cold, bland halls was just making me even more tense, and now, as I laid here in my bed, I realized that the room wasn't helping either. It was characteristically white, pretty drab, with a window that had bars on it right across from the bed. It made me feel even worse in my own skin. And the curtains were hideous, an attempt at livening up the room with more drab fabric covered in faded flowers. They were awful.

I'd managed to make one friend, which had helped quite a lot, and Kyo had been my saving grace. The rest of the time, though, I was stuck without much to do. I wanted booze. Or a cigarette. Or sex. Or something, I didn't care at this point. Even jacking off wasn't cutting it, though it was a nice little diversion when the boredom really got to me.

Kind of like it was now.

I was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, both arms casually behind my head, and maybe while I was waiting for some doctor or psychiatrist or whatever, I could have a bit of fun... Or maybe someone else would get to me first. Who knew. I'd had a lack of staff visits so far, so I was probably due for that. I groaned in irritation, rolling my eyes and pursing my lips for a second before sighing and absently letting one hand rest on my stomach.

Maybe sleep was a better option...

It was the night shift, one that she wasn't particularly used to working. Another nurse friend of hers had to take off from her shift for the week. Something about her parents, Caroline supposed. With a little friend perched on her shoulders, even though he wasn't really supposed to be there, the shift was made easy. Pierre knew not to run off, such a smart little cat he was. He stayed close to Caroline, the two of them using each other as guardians.

Dim lights filled the hallways, but a flashlight always helped her around. Her turn to check the patients for suspicious activity, the only activity she found was that the coffee maker wasn't making coffee the way she preferred and that both her tuxedo cat and she realized that this place was ten times more eerie at night.

"Si effrayant!" So scary! She nervously laughed to herself and raised her hand to pet Pierre, more grateful for his presence now more than ever. "If there is a ghost here, I'll probably not be shocked. Droite, Pierre?" Right, Pierre? A soft meow in response as she turned the corner to more patient rooms.

Turning her beams toward the windows on the doors, she scanned each room to check that each patient was sleeping. She turned her flashlight in such a way as not to disturb the patients who managed to find sleep, but could still see their chests move slowly, peacefully. She checked for abnormalities in the sleeping patterns. None so far, until one man.

She checked closer. Not the pattern of sleep she was used to seeing, but who knew. Looking at the chart gave her some information: Woo Jiho, male, 21, potentially violent. That was her favorite thing about charts, she knew almost everything she needed to before actually entering the dark room of a patient. The potentially violent part, especially. Anything to stop the boredom of the night shift.

Taking Pierre from her shoulder and tucking him into her elbow, she traded her flashlight to her other hand so as to somewhat hide him. Slowly, quietly in case she was wrong, Caroline entered the room.

"Hey," she tested, whispering, "hey, are you alright?"

I wasn't prepared for the door to open, but hey, who was I to turn down company? I leaned back and glanced at the person responsible, brow quirked. A woman I hadn't seen before greeted me - well, I'd seen her, but we'd never interacted. So I offered an absent wave, just one, before dropping my hand back down to my stomach. I didn't even bother sitting up.

"Just great," I mumbled, clearly sarcastic. It made me grin, laughing for the moment before rolling my eyes at myself and turning my attentions back up to the ceiling.

I didn't want to deal with some nurse at the moment. It was interaction, yes, but if she was going to prescribe some pills and tell me to take two and talk to her in the morning, I would rather pass. There were other people I would have preferred to talk to at the moment.

Like someone not at this god forsaken place.

Alright, so he was awake after all. Good start. She entered even further, letting the door slide shut behind her. Her chest longed the door to be open, but of course, it stayed closed. His response was sarcastic, and sarcasm never really helped anything. It kind of annoyed her, too.

"Can't sleep, Mr. Woo?" It was a common problem with newer patients. "Is it the screamers, or something else? Anything you want me to do?" There was nothing she could do about the patients that screamed, because they were usually the ones screaming nonstop anyway. Pierre, tired of being confined to her elbow, mewed in disagreement. Loudly, multiple times. Her free hand went to his head.

"Chut, Pierre!" She tapped his nose, shifting around to place him on her shoulder. Pierre made one last whine before silencing himself. Of all times to break the quiet streak, it had to be now. His cover was broken, so she might as well make some light. She turned the flashlight up and set it upright on the floor, making the whole room fill with the makeshift dim light.

"Sorry. He's having a bad night, too. My name is Caroline Livingston, I'm a nurse. That's my cat, Pierre." She absently brushed her fingers along the cat's head, giving a gentle smile toward him. "Honestly, though. I'm here if you want me."

"Can't ever sleep in this place," I said softly, not offering any more information than I needed to. I didn't want to talk to this woman, though she seemed harmless. At least she wasn't pushing pills down my throat, so that was a start.

The second I heard a cat meow I looked up, actually paying attention for a moment. Was there actually a cat in here? I usually would be more excited but it was unexpected and I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at the animal and quirking my brow.

"Is that even allowed?" I asked flatly, turning my focus back to Ms. Caroline, as I now knew. I could have introduced myself but what was the point? She already knew who I was.

I wasn't about to offer anything else. She was keeping me locked up, and the second she did something to irritate me I was going to snap at her, I could feel it.

"Yeah. Sleeping here sucks. I've heard you can get used to it, but I never did." She knew the feeling of attempting to sleep in the building all too well. It used to be mandatory for staff, since there used to not be as many preventative measures against accidents.

Caroline had been there for the last two months of that, and was exceptionally happy for the change. It was also nice, since her apartment building allowed cats. Which, of course, was something Acropolis didn't offer.

"Technically, no. Then again, I'm not supposed to be here either. I'm supposed to be day staff, but that's..." She waved her hand in dismissal. "I brought him to keep me company walking the halls. You think it's bad in the day?" She shook her head, laughing. "You'd be surprised how much you appreciate not having to walk around out there now. You think it would help put you to sleep, but it never does." She relaxed a bit, leaning against the wall, careful of Pierre.

Pierre became antsy, the lack of movement bothering him. An idea formed in Caroline's mind, and she figured maybe it would help. She pulled Pierre from her shoulders and held him in her arms under his elbows, walking slowly towards Mr. Woo.

"Would you like to pet him? He's my good boy, very calming." She'd heard of therapy pets, and even though he hadn't been trained, why not have him help?

Rule breaker.

I smirked to myself, not speaking my thoughts but letting them resonate as Caroline kept talking. You'd think that someone would be used to their place of work after a while... But maybe I was wrong. I'd always done well maneuvering through places in the night. I'd had to do it more times than I could count, though I'd keep quiet on the subject.

It was about then that she offered me the cat.

Even though I hadn't been expecting it I accepted, not one to turn down an animal being thrust into my face. I was more a dog person, but a cat was acceptable. It was cute how this woman was trying to get on my good side, though an animal was probably the best way to start the process. Either way I pet him, and he meowed at me. Which was expected.

"You seem more normal than the people that work here," I mumbled at her, not looking up from the cat until I was finished speaking. Then I looked at her, brow raised.

A smile curved her cheeks. More normal? That was probably not an inaccurate measurement, but probably not entirely true. She laughed, putting Pierre on the bed to stroll openly where he wanted, but the silly cat was never one to stop being petted. He stayed right by Jiho's hands, rubbing them with his cheeks. Such a good boy.

"I've never heard that, before. 'Fucking whore,' maybe. 'Dumb fucking bitch' is pretty common, too," she stretched her arms, "it's nice. Thank you. Other nurses, the doctors, they don't really know what it's like to be locked up." She paused, looking at Jiho. "I don't think I really do, either." A nervous smile came to her. She probably looked tired. She was. Why else would she be saying things like this to another living person?

"Being in a place no one wants to be in... that, at least, I understand. Maybe not to this extent, of course. But I can empathize." Caroline straightened up, flattening the front of her scrubs with her hands. She wasn't sure if they were shaking or not. She shook her head, shrugging. "These people have had hard times, and I don't see a point in making it any harder." That much she knew for sure, if nothing else.

"Brought something to keep you company, can't be that dumb." I shrugged, still absently petting the cat beside me, paying more attention to it than the woman in front of me. I didn't quite grasp why I was acting like this but it didn't really make a difference. I was going to be examined eventually, so why not make it with one of the more sane people here?

I didn't really know what else to say so I shrugged, once again paying more attention to Pierre. It was a cute cat, what could I say? There was quite a long silence before anyone spoke again, but it was me that opened my mouth next, surprisingly.

"I don't deserve to be in this fucking place," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone in particular. If anything, I felt like I was talking to the cat.

I know that I had lost it on someone... And maybe it had happened before, though I couldn't really remember it. But he had deserved it, and I hadn't been in the wrong. So there was no point to me getting fixed or whatever they were referring to it as these days.

Admission of patients was always a touchy topic. Most of the time, patients claimed they didn't belong. It was no rarity. Nothing ever usually true, or else they wouldn't show in the first place. Caroline supposed the same thing was said in prisons. Sometimes, people who said they didn't belong in prison really didn't belong there. Innocent people being blamed for something they didn't do. Why not in an institution, too?

"If it doesn't bother you," she started, curiosity rising as it usually did, "why don't you think you should be here? What did you do?" Caroline paused, worry filling her stomach.

"Sorry, sorry. In no way do you have to answer that if you don't want to. It's just... I don't care what they think, I'm not trying to help them. You, on the other hand..." She started looking around, at anything other than Jiho. God, what was she saying? How stupid, could she really trust how this situation would end?

And there it was. That was the question that everyone asked, and I guess I should have been used to it by now. But the way she tried to cover it up and stuttered over her words was something new, and it made me smirk, the cat having long since crawled into my lap to lie down. I didn't bother moving him.

Why did I think I shouldn't be here? I might as well answer.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I mumbled, looking down. "The guy I... attacked, or whatever, started the whole thing. I don't remember what happened, and I don't care. He got what was coming to him, and for that I'm glad. Anyone else just got caught in the crossfire. I remember throwing a punch and then I remember a cop tasing me. Then it was black and I guess I passed out. I only know what they told me I did." I paused, eyes still trained down as I furrowed my brows. "... I guess there are little dark spots in my memory but... I don't deserve this. A prison, maybe. I'd probably be more free there."

With that I stopped, never having lifted my eyes to meet the nurse's but instead petting her cat. The mood was a lot more serious now, and I didn't know where to go from there.

Caroline laughed. It was silly, she should have known. Dark spots never exactly meant perfect sanity. Prison or institution? It didn't really matter, did it? Either one pulled you away from the outside world. It made no difference, people never spoke highly of the inmates or patients, did they?

"The unfortunate thing about that is neither one is a really good option, if you think about it." She sat at the foot of his bed, absently reaching for Pierre. She smiled at Jiho. "That topic was a little dark, wasn't it? Didn't mean to. Thank you for telling me, though."

"Do you have any family? A much softer topic, and much nicer." She hoped he didn't mind her getting comfy on his bed. "Kids? A wife? All I have is Pierre, myself. Not that I'm complaining."

I had to laugh. "In prison people don't look at me like I'm a psychopath," I mumbled, shaking my head. I just let her talk, not really responding until I was actively questioned. Family? Kids? Wife? That was a funny thought, me with a wife.

"Parents. A brother. No kids, no wife. No girlfriend." I pursed my lips, looking down with furrowed brows. "... No girlfriend," I repeated, though my words were a bit softer and once again more directed at the cat than anyone else. I didn't really want to think about relationships. They seemed to end up a touchy subject.

I had had my gang until the end, then I'd lost them when I got arrested. I missed them more than anything most of the time. The cat purred from my lap and I frowned slightly, still a bit lost in thought.

"So you can laugh!" She smiled, giggling. "At least there's that. I never had a boyfriend. My parents died a few years back, and I'm an only child. Probably for the best, Thanksgiving's weird enough with my grandmother, who barely speaks English, and me, who barely speaks French. She's nice though." She looked at her cat.

"The nice thing is, since you have family, they'll visit you. I don't see a reason they wouldn't." Of course, she wasn't going to mention the patients who had families that were ashamed of them and never visited. Those were the saddest days, sometimes. It made patients throw fits, scream even louder. Visits were held in the lobby or cafeteria, where she was told to bring reporters for 'their safety.' She didn't think there could possibly be anything worse than that.

"He likes you." She scratched behind his ears. "I'd bring him around more often if so many people here didn't have cat allergies. What'd you do before this? Work wise, I mean. I like that question, best. Shocking how many people of high status tend to be out of it."

I scoffed. "The cat likes me more than my family, imagine that." I rolled my eyes at myself, taking in something of a shaky breath before letting it out. For this topic, I decided to remain quiet. I didn't want to talk about the family. My brother kept in contact with me until recently, telling me things that had happened... When I was younger he'd told me things that I'd done... But lately he'd stopped calling. I didn't know why but I assumed it was because he just didn't want to talk to me. I was also glad she'd steered clear of the love life topic. Less stress for me.

"Me?" No one ever asked what I'd done before this. How was I even supposed to answer that without revealing illegal stuff? "I... I just did odd jobs. Nothing too spectacular. Dirty work, heavy lifting." I smirked.

It wasn't a lie, at least. I just didn't mention what that dirty work was.

"'Dirty work,' huh? So did my dad." Caroline had been around plenty of people who did 'dirty work' long enough to know the evasive lingo. "Sold drugs since before I was born. His friends were real jerks, you know?" She let out a shaky breath, too. The ones who came over to their house in the middle of the night, the ones her mother swore at her father for, those weren't even the worst.

"I've been a nurse all my life. Family practice before I came here, but just about the same thing. Now I have creepy doctors asking me for drugs the DEA would revoke my whole career for giving out to a non-prescribed patient." She patted his leg.

"I think you should call your family tomorrow! They know you're here, of course, but it'd be nice for them to hear from you. If it goes well, great, if not, whatever. It can't hurt to try, then you don't have to worry about it later."

She was far too happy for this time of night, though her story did make me stop and listen. It wasn't too often that a nurse let all this out, and in the back of my mind I wondered if she should even be telling me this. But I noted the comment about the doctors asking for drugs - that only confirmed all of the rumors I'd heard.

"Sounds shitty." That was all I said in response to her stories, though the second she patted my leg I twitched away, finally making eye contact with her. My expression was less than inviting, more of a glare than anything else. A glassed-over glare. "Don't touch me," I hissed, words coming out in Korean though the warning was evident by my actions. The fact that I'd even told her what I had proved that I trusted her a bit more than usual, but physical contact... That was something I didn't trust any doctor here enough for.

"I don't even know their number anymore. I don't want to know it. I don't care enough," I mumbled, jaw still clenched tightly as I swallowed. "I haven't talked to them in years."

She raised her hands defensively. "Sorry, I didn't know you had a dislike for touching. Really, I mean it. It's too dark to read your chart out there, so all I got was the first three lines. Promise, if someone had charted it, it'd be there. It's my fault for not looking properly first."

Caroline remembered not wanting to see her parents anymore. The day she left for college was in her car, the one she had bought after years of working at a theater scooping popcorn into bins only to do it ten minutes later after another room let out. She hadn't seen them, and hadn't wanted to, until the day she found out they were dead from a drunk driving accident. She was the one who set up the funeral, invited everyone, and had to bury them.

"If it helps, in order for admittance of any patient here, we have to ask their families if we can find them. Their numbers are probably on file if they did manage finding them. You don't have to, of course. The option is always open, though, if you want the chance." She played idly with Pierre's tail. "If it was me, I'd probably do it. I never did, though, even though I could have. I'm still not sure that was a really good idea, though."

"I did it again, made the subject all serious. Have you ever had a pet?" She smiled, tickling Pierre's hip. He was probably asleep. Little jerk, quitting on the job.

I shook my head. "Maybe in the future. The distant future. Not today, or tomorrow." Sighing softly, I flicked my hair from my eyes, not moving much so I didn't disturb the cat who had apparently decided my lap was a good bed. It didn't matter, though. I was okay with animals. "I doubt they'd want to talk to me, anyway. Considering they've called the cops on me before."

That was the first time I jumped at my brother. He'd told me about it later, that he'd said something and I'd just beaten him until my parents pulled me off, but I didn't remember. My brother was probably the only person I ever felt bad about hurting. The rest all deserved it.

"I had a dog," I mumbled, smiling at the memory. "One of my... close friends, I guess, bought him for me." He had been a member of the same gang as me, and I'd worked with him a lot. We'd gotten close. But I hadn't heard from him in a while. There were days when I actually missed him. But I would never admit that freely. "I miss... my dog."

I chuckled at myself. Look at me, getting all emotional over some guy I-... Over a dog. Though I did miss that puppy.

"My brother probably kept him since this shit happened," I said, gesturing absently to the room and accidentally waking the cat in my lap. He just looked up, stretched, and fell asleep again.

"I hope you do call them, eventually. It's the not knowing that's the worst part." She stretched and yawned, putting her hands behind her head.

"My roommate in college had a dog. It was a stupid little Chihuahua, never stopped barking. Thing looked malnourished, even for a small dog. It was one of those ones that had those excessively large heads, so it looked like it would fall over. I ended up taking it for a walk and 'accidentally' letting go of the leash and being unable to find the damn thing. It was kinda cute, in a sort of ugly way, but the barking!" She laughed at her memory of the dog's pink nail polish and little outfits.

"It's good that your dog is being looked after though, right? Maybe when you get out of here you can find him again, too. I'm sure he'd like seeing you. All dogs like seeing their masters. Then again, some people leaving here make entirely new lives for themselves. New apartment, job, haircut, pet. Don't know if that's good for their therapy, but if it makes them happy, I can't complain."

"That close friend of yours. Any interest in seeing them?"

Accidentally letting go of a leash? Sounded like something I would do and I chuckled under my breath, rolling my eyes. Her yawn made me pause, though the question she asked immediately got me nod and, for possibly the first time since I had gotten to this place, I smiled genuinely and nodded before I caught myself. After a moment of that smile I let it disappear from my features, instead looking away as I cleared my throat.

"We'll meet up eventually," I said in response, though it wasn't really an answer. "We haven't talked in a bit. That's life." That was all I had to say on the subject all I could muster before looking back down at the cat, petting him softly. "I kind of hope we meet up, but I'll live. If we don't, I mean..." I shook my head at myself.

"If you're tired, you can go. I'm not going to attack anything, I'll be safe." I shrugged, lying back down and trying to ignore the mess that I'd just stuttered out. It irritated me when I got like that. "I heard you yawn."

A smile came from her patient, reminding her why she put up with doctors who abused their powers and hers, screaming patients, and a coffee maker that made gross coffee. It always brightened her day to see that part, and she would probably boast about it to her colleagues. She stood, sneaking her hand under Pierre's chest, careful to avoid touching Jiho, and donning him on her shoulder through protesting mews.

"I never did ask about boyfriends, did I? Sorry, just kind of, you know, assumed." She shrugged. "I'm tired, but I'm also supposed to be working. If nothing else, I should at least check the rooms of the patients that probably do want to attack something. That's my job, after all. Not usually, but it is today. Probably got too comfy, too. Prison beds suck compared to those beds." Caroline picked up the flashlight and walked to the door, stopping before it. She turned to Jiho.

"I don't usually do this, any of this, I mean." She gestured around the room. Why not do a little more? She took a step toward him. Gently, slowly, the touched his pillow near the top of his head, the way she assumed a mother would if she wasn't drunk all the time. "If you need anything, I am legally obligated to not tell anyone unless it's directly harming you, some one else, or you're being harmed. I'm around almost every day, just ask for someone and they can page me."

"It sucks that you're here. I won't tell you otherwise. Whether you deserve it or not, you're here, and there's not much to change that except to go with whatever they tell you unless it seems excessively sketchy. I hope, either way, that you understand that I'm here for you, so you can at least have one person on staff you can even somewhat trust, even a sliver." She sighed, moving back to the door. She gave a somewhat expectant but shy look.

"He's not my... It... Wasn't..." I huffed, turning to face the opposite way and furrowing my brows. We weren't that. We'd never... He wasn't good looking, we'd never kissed or had sex or... We were just close. That was all.

"We never dated..." I muttered, Korean once again sneaking into my words as I grumbled a few syllables under my breath. I was acting like a teenager, and I wasn't a fan of it. Frankly, if I could have said anything else to defend myself I would have. But I couldn't think of anything so I stayed quiet. I felt the disturbance on my pillow but didn't say anything else, just nodding to her as I curled up in my bed. My shitty little bed.

"Yeah. Thanks," I mumbled, barely audible.

It wasn't much, but it was something. And it made her stomach tingle in kind of a motherly way at how cute he reacted to the boyfriend thing. She smiled, and opened the door to leave.

"I'd avoid the coffee. Don't know what's up with the coffee maker, but it tastes awful no matter what I put in there. Avoid the shitty doctors, too. Not hard to miss. If you're good, I'll bring Pierre in with some 'emergency' excuse, yeah? Sleep tight!" She walked out, letting the door close behind her.

Pierre let out a goodbye meow before the door closed.

And she completely ignored me.

That was fair, though, considering I sounded like a moron. Or a crazy person.

I laughed at myself as the door closed, simply nodding in response despite the little smile that perked my lips at the mention of the cat. The moment it appeared it disappeared though, and I was instead left with an uneasy frown, brows knit together.

"That wasn't it at all," I mumbled to myself, just a bit angry at what had happened. Just a bit...

I punched my wall, letting out a muffled scream into the pillow, as I had some consideration for the people living in this dump. Eventually I calmed myself, holding the pillow instead of lying on it.

"... Fuck this," I said in a sigh. "Just... Fuck this."