Forty-Two: Bite

The process of getting fingerprinted, having my belongings logged into their system, and being assigned my room took longer than necessary. It was as if they enjoyed that I had to stand there with vomit in my hair and dried to my face. I was given a loose-fitting outfit, similar to what the workers were wearing, only while their scrubs were a dark blue, the patients were white.

Several hours and angry comments from me later, I was brought to my room. One would think they would hurry up when they were getting verbally assaulted by a pissed-off, allegedly mentally unstable patient.

Instead, it seemed to slow them down, and the angrier I got, the more amused they were.

The room had two beds, one was empty with nothing more than a thin blanket and a flat pillow, and the other had the sleeping body of my new roommate.

"This is Waterman. Best not to wake her, or she might try to stab you." The man said with a laugh as he kicked the metal frame of her bed. I