my parents when I was three at a very different kind of hospital, and that was the last I ever saw of them.
Their faces are fuzzy in my mind, as are some of the details of why they left me, but it’s not that hard to piece together what happened. Pointing out that you’re seeing things that other people can’t—sometimes very scary things—clearly didn’t go over well, regardless of how little I was.
Residual abandonment issues are just another thing I have against me on my record. It’s gotten easier with time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them, either in anger, confusion, or sadness. You don’t just get thrown away to a mental ward and not have scars from it.
But Nurse Tyson and his husband, Rick, make it their mission to adopt everyone in this place, including me. And despite my circumstances and my standoffish attitude, Tyson became a sort of friend to me here, and he’s taken the others under his wing as well. He and Rick celebrate our birthdays and make Christmas presents, they leave sweet notes randomly for all the residents, and they show us throwaways that someone cares. It’s been a magical experience to watch their light shine in such a dark place.
Tyson says he and Rick will come and visit, but I won’t hold it against them if they don’t. I know they’re busy and there are so many people who need their love more than I do, but who knows, maybe I will see them again. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself when my awareness of how much I’ll miss them starts to creep up on me. I try so hard not to get attached to people, since that never ends well for me, but sometimes, there’s just nothing I can do about it.
“Well, not they exactly,” he tells me, answering my previous question. “Only one doctor drove down to retrieve you, since you’re the only patient their facility is taking on, but I think you’ll like the view on the drive back, Sabe the Babe,” Tyson adds with a wink. “Richard looked up the facility, and he said it looks real nice. They can be unconventional in their methods, but that ain’t a bad thing if you ask little ol’ me.”
I offer him a small smile and nod. “Yeah, Dr. Gupta said the same thing. I guess they have horses and other animals that they use for some therapies, so that could be nice,” I agree, moving to the bathroom and packing up my brush and small amount of toiletries.
I don’t say that with my luck, I’d look at the horse and see some winged creature straight out of a Harry Potter movie. Or one of those half-people dogs from The Hunger Games. Usually, my issues with seeing what isn’t there sticks to only people, but I haven’t spent much time around a lot of animals, so who knows what could happen?
“You and Rick going to be okay after this place closes?” I ask as I come to dump my toiletries into the suitcase.
I study Tyson’s face for any signs of stress or concern, but he just finishes packing the rest of my meager belongings and looks up at me with a comforting smile. “I’ve got my next gig all lined up, babe, so don’t you go worrying on my account.”
I smile wider and drop my eyes to the floor. “They’ll be lucky to have you,” I declare quietly, hating the way my chest gets a little tight with the words.
“You know it,” he teases, squeezing my shoulder affectionately as he passes by, my suitcase rolling in tow behind him.
I turn and follow, not bothering to take one last look at the room I’ve spent the last four years of my life in. Dr. Gupta was right in his assessment. I’m young, but instead of hope for a new future to look forward to, all I have are many more years in rooms just like that one. I’m sure they’ll all look the same to me in the end.
2
“I’m gonna miss you, Sabe Babe. I’m not sure where I’m going to look to get my daily dose of beautiful anymore,” Tyson teases as we head into the elevator to go downstairs.
“And the witty banter, don’t forget that,” I snark, falling right into the rhythm of our normal, easygoing interactions rather than looking at the unwelcome sadness blooming in my chest.
I was supposed to leave on Saturday when Tyson was