Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

length of the building until he stopped outside an open room. He stood aside. One by one the patients made their way in.

It was like I’d stepped into some seventeenth-century log cabin. Everywhere you looked was stained dark wood, their varnish shining when caught by the light. The skirtings running along the navy blue carpet, the window sashes, the panelling on the wall decorated with ornate little flowers, the intricate cornices on the ceiling- you could see the expense and detail that had gone into everything in order to impress, and the darkness of the carpentry, the furnishings, and the carpet made everything feel really cosy.

I followed the others towards the circle of wooden chairs, where a skinny lady in her fifties was already sitting. Wide-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose and she tilted her head back and peered down through them, slightly cock-eyed, as she watched us coming in. Below her auburn fifties’ hairstyle, the pink-white earrings in her elfish ears matched with her necklace. A loose, hippyish, purple skirt came down to her knee-high boots and from her emerald green top, two thin arms poked out, showcasing three different sparkling bangles on each wrist. She was sitting open-legged, and as we got closer, she placed her hands on her knees and pushed them together.

“Afternoon, folks!” she welcomed.

I took the last chair, next to the comatose twins I’d sat with at breakfast. The brisk walk from ward four had woken me up a bit, but sitting in that warm and comfy room acted like a sedative on me. I shook my head and pinched my forearm to keep my eyes open, and followed the circle round with my eyes- each face plump and fleshy from the drugs, or lack of exercise, or a mixture of both. There were two other women there, one who’s face was covered by her long dark hair as she sat slouched forward. They were all slouched forward. Or slouched back. Spines bent like a group of hunchbacks and cripples and all their eyes rooted to the floor. All except for one man who’s left eye kept blinking as he cautiously watched the woman holding the class.

Behind the dark-haired woman’s head, the large window overlooked an allotment. Different bushes, shrubs and potted trees were enclosed within an overgrown hedge in what had probably been a patient-led scheme at one time or another. And beyond all that a dilapidating, triangular-shaped building stood in the distance with birds flying around its roof.

Kev poked his head in the doorway. “Okay then, Cindy?” he grinned.

The woman smiled impatiently. Her eyes glassed over. “Yes. Fine. Thank you.” she replied curtly.

“Alright then.” Kev nodded slowly. “Dale will just be waitin’ outside if you need anything.” He stalled a few seconds while he stared at each one of us, then softly closed the door.

The woman he’d called Cindy waited, her palms resting on her knees, as if she was making sure he was gone. Then suddenly her annoyance vanished, and her face lit up. She smiled at us through pale grey teeth. Her eyes brimming with enthusiasm.

“OKAY THEN, EVERYONE!?

HOW ARE YOU ALL DOING TODAY?!!” She sang in a rapture that filled the room.

The group remained quiet. I bit my lip to suppress my snigger. But looking up again, and seeing the sadness in everyone’s eyes as they remained fixed on the floor, I saw that there was absolutely nothing to laugh about.

Can they even respond? I wondered. How far gone are they? But something directed my attention back to the woman by the window, her face now poking out from her hair, except she wasn’t a woman- she was just a girl. Her fresh, young skin was almost porcelain and along with her tiny features-small frame, small nose and mouth, big brown eyes on little cheeks- it made her look even younger than her sixteen or seventeen years. Her eyes darted to Cindy then back again and she bent further over, dipping her head to make the smooth, black curtains of her hair again fall over her face, concealing all but a secretive gap down the middle from which she nervously chewed upon her nails.

What kind of place is this for someone her age? I thought in alarm, trying to hide my shock but unable to stop looking. I knew I was only a few years older, but she just looked so innocent, so child-like. She continued to bite her nails and pick them in turn- but a shrill, singing voice brought me back.

-“OH, COME ON PEOPLE, IT CAN’T BE THAT BAD!! I SAID HOW IS EVERYONE FEELING TODAY?!”

“Fine.” “Fine.”“Alright.” “Fine.” A few caveman-like grunts responded. The guy to my left copied the girl in biting his nails. I could hear the crunch right in my ear.

“SEE! THAT’S BETTER! POS-IT-TIVITY. NOW, WE HAVE A NEW PATIENT WITH US TODAY, SO LET’S MAKE HER FEEL REEAALLY WEL-COME.” Cindy tilted her head in my direction and her glue-tight idiots smile tried to encourage me, “Would you like to introduce yourself, sweet-pea?”

Fucking sweet-pea? I glanced at the others to see if anyone really cared who I was or what I was doing there, but even the guy with the twitch was now staring at the floor through his one good and one blinking eye, buried in his own little world. Lost in his own set of troubles.

“I’m Aisha.” I said, not expecting a response. But to my slight surprise they did, “Hullo, Aisha,” the Neanderthal grunts echoed in monotone unison. Still nobody raised their head.

 “THANKS, AISHA!! WHAT A LOVE-LY NAME! AYEE-SHA!! ISNT THAT A LOVE-LY NAME, EVERYONE?” Cindy lilted.

“Yes.” “Uh-huh.” “Yes.” “M-Hm.”

Maybe if she wasn’t so patronizing then people might respond to her.

As if she had read my mind her head snapped back to face me, but instead, she proceeded to speak slower than ever, deliberately placing emphasis on each vowel like I was two years old, “My name is