Day 125

The cot creaked and squeaked as Nikki awoke, his heavy body shifting on the hardly twin-sized brick  he had to sleep on. It was eight in the morning, on the dot. Everyone woke up at the same time, thanks to the employees who went around yelling all kinds of obscenities to the patients to get them to wake up with no struggle. Nikki shared a room with two other people: one young man who couldn't eat a baby carrot without having the urge to puke it up in fear of gaining even an ounce - his name was Corbin, and he had been there for half a year. Then there was Elliott, another young man - eighteen - who suffered from schizophrenia. Lastly, there was Trevor. Trevor was Nikki's closest friend in the compound, scars deep and wide covering his arms, legs, and stomach. They all felt safe with Nikki and knew he was not like them -- they knew he did not belong there. The first week Nikki was there, he had snapped at a nurse who tried to shove his thumb into one of Trevor's fresh gashes that was hardly healed, and since then - they all knew Nikki was going to protect them. 

Corbin woke up, sitting upright and hugging his knees close to his chest as he waited for the others. Elliott awoke a moment later, followed by Trevor. They all stared at Nikki as he slowly sat up, his dark hair slightly messy. "I hate these fucking beds," he spat, a growl leaving him as he rubbed his temple. 

"If you can even call it that," Trevor muttered, his hand lightly rubbing his arm.

"I had a dream we escaped again," Elliott spoke up, rocking back and forth slightly which made the cot he was on squeak with every movement. "It was wonderful," he added, his eyes blankly staring at the whitewashed floors. 

Corbin was quiet and never spoke much, so he sat up on his bed, just listening.

They all jumped as a nurse came by their room and slapped his hand against the door that had been kicked open only a split second before. "Rise and shine, bird brains!" He yelled nastily, hacking up a wad of mucus from his throat before he spat, making sure it landed right by Nikki's feet before he left to go to the next room.

Nikki jerked his feet away before the spit could even come close to him and he huffed loudly, his jaw locking as he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He may not have been all the things his attorney claimed him to be, but he always knew he had a problem with his temper and controlling it. He stood up, wincing from his aching muscles cause by the rusty springs on the cot. "Shower time, boys. Come on," he said, motioning for them to come along since he had gained a sense of responsibility for them.

After they all complied and followed him, they reached the showers. The water pressure was horrendous, but it was something to keep them clean and not everyone in the establishment used them, but Nikki made sure he and his roommates did to keep them from getting too disgusting. Shower time had a time limit of two and a half minutes per person. The time flew by, but they had gotten used to washing up as quickly as possible.

The day dragged on as usual, Nikki watching out for Corbin, Elliott, and Trevor the whole time and making sure each of them took care of themselves. He watched Corbin as he ate and wouldn't allow him to get up and use the bathroom until Nikki was positive he had time to actually digest his food. There wasn't much that Nikki could do to help Elliott, but he stayed close to him and always reminded him that he was safe. Like a hawk, Nikki watched Trevor -- making absolutely sure that no sharp objects were slipped into any of his pockets. It was the least he could do to actually take care of them since the nurses and doctors often found it amusing when other patients struggled with their issues. It sickened Nikki - the way that pills that wouldn't even cure a common cold were shoved down people's throats on a daily basis. Nikki made sure that he nor the three other people he was watching after took these pills and had taught them a quick way to hide them in their mouths without being detected.

Was it Nikki's responsibility to care for these people? Of course not. He could hardly take care of himself, but the thing was -- the doctors and nurses that worked in the hospital did nothing but provoke people's mental stability. He could not allow the people who had grown to be his real friends to be subjected to that kind of neglect, and he would die before he allowed them to suffer at the hands of people who promised to heal them.