“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
That weekend was an unnaturally silent one. My mother and I tiptoed around each other, me still feeling hurt and betrayed, her guilt building a wall between us. By the time Monday morning came and we made the journey back to the unit, I was more than a little glad to be ‘going home’, a sardonic smile touching my lips at the thought that I felt more at home in a psychiatric unit than our pleasant semi detached.
Arriving at the door we were met with the usual collected chaos of noise and confusion and I slipped inside with a quick hug and goodbye to my mother. Wandering upstairs I found most of the patients playing card games or unpacking from weekend leave, Riana throwing a ball against a wall and Catherine sitting on a chair in a wetsuit. I looked at her enquiringly and she informed me that her dad had bought it for her, grinning. I asked her if she was intending to wear the wetsuit all day and said “Why not?”
At that moment an unfamiliar staff member materialised, sloping down the wall to sit in the corridor as though a patient rather than staff. I studied her quietly, and she caught my stare. “Hi, I’m guessing you’re Katy?” she asked with a thick Scottish accent. I confirmed the fact, and she reached out a hand for me to shake. I did so and she looked at me seriously with her intense, analytical eyes. “Good hand shake,” she said. I smiled and thanked her, then shyly asked her what her name was. “Kit,” she answered, then turned her attention to Catherine. “I think it would be more appropriate if you changed Catherine,” Kit announced.
I expected Catherine to object, but Kit seemed to hold a strange and subtle respect, because Catherine rose immediately with only a slight glint of resentment in her eyes and rushed off to her room to get changed. I sat back in a chair on the night station, wondering what exactly to make of this enigmatic unfamiliar person.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
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NO MATTER HOW BAD YOU FEEL - ONE NICE PM TO SOMEONE NEW A DAY HELPS!!! TRY IT!!!