Chapter 9 run with scissors(8)

"I'm Kevin," he said. At this point, most of the room has come into view.Flickering fluorescent lights overhead, metal coat racks opposite, and iron bars on the windows.I realized that I was not dreaming.I tried to sit up, but it was like a big stone was pressed against my chest, preventing me from moving. The naked man with the pointed hat jumped off the bed and slowly approached me and stood beside me. I didn't know what he was trying to do, so I stared at him in panic, waiting for his next move. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" he asked.He rubbed his belly desperately.

It seemed to me then that I understood that I must be in a madhouse.I vaguely remember that my stomach was washed by the doctor here. Gastric lavage has happened to me before, when I was six years old.I swallowed a Santa Claus that was made of wax from a Christmas tree and I was taken to the hospital in Springfield.This was the second time in my life that I had my stomach pumped, and again, this Santa Claus guy put me in the hospital for minor treatment. "Would you like some water?" he asked. I nod. He left my bed, walked to the door, and yelled down the corridor, "This new kid is awake and wants a drink."

After a while, a nurse appeared with a small paper cup on a tray. "How are you feeling?" she asked roughly. "I feel tired." "It's not surprising," she said, "it's odd that you're not tired after half a bottle of Valium (a sedative sleeping pill) and a pint of brandy." Her attitude looked hostile.She handed me the cup of warm water. I drank it in one gulp, and the water tasted like rust—pooh! I asked, "Where am I?" She said, "First of all, you are still alive." She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and pumped it up bit by bit. "Of course, I think this is bad news for you. But there is also good news, because you are being treated at our Mimelio Hospital, where you can enjoy first-class services." She told the man who called Kevin's naked person said: "And you, you take off your hat and put on your clothes."

After the nurse left, Kevin put on his hospital gown.He came up to me and said, "You know what, these nurses and doctors, they're all nuts." Seeing me staring closely at the green hat, which was still on his head, he took it off with a smile. "They just had a little birthday party for an old lunatic, like it was her million and first birthday, and the old guy seems to be a nurse too. Well, who cares!" I am now able to sit up despite my dizziness. "What is this place?" "This is a lunatic asylum." He said, and made a face of a lunatic. I want to go for a walk and clear my head.I need fresh air. "How did you get out? Is there somewhere to go for a walk?"

He smiled and said, "You can't get out! This is a closed ward and it's locked, my child." At least it's not a big classroom, I thought. Kevin told me he was locked up because he had attempted suicide. I asked him, "Really?" He nodded. "why?" "Because life was unbearable," he said. "My parents forced me to go to a school I didn't want to go to, and forced me to marry a woman I didn't want to marry. It seemed like my whole life was planned by them. and I'm only nineteen. I'm so fucking tired of this, I'm tired of everything, you know? Fuck!"

"Do you really wish you were dead?" I asked him. He thought about this question: "I don't want to die yet." He asked me, "What about you?" I suddenly felt a strong sense of guilt because he seemed honest and I couldn't be honest with him, as much as I wanted to be.I said, "School, I hate school." "What grade are you in, eighth grade, right?" "Seventh grade. I stayed in third grade." "Oh, it's not too bad. Elementary school, it's not too bad." I wanted to tell him about the perfect girl, the Cosberg girl who was perfect enough to make me vomit, but all of a sudden, that didn't seem like the whole reason I was in this madhouse.I wanted to tell him about Bookman Neal, about my strange association with him.I wanted to tell him that my mother was on the verge of going crazy and that I had to worry about her from morning till night.I also want to say: "Well, I'm here, unlike you, I'm just here for a vacation." But I can't tell him why I'm here—it has to be a secret.

In the days that followed, I continued to live the lie, carefully guarding my secret.While undergoing group therapy (a type of psychiatric therapy in which patients with the same disorder are led by a doctor and share their troubles and problems with each other in a group), I had to explain why I committed suicide.I blurted out as much as I could: "I hate my life." I said it through gritted teeth, and I told them, "I just want it to be over, once and for all." I tried to recall lines from all the TV shows I'd seen.I also pictured myself as Martin Hewitt in the movie "Love Never Ends" who burns down Brooke Hilty's house because of a broken relationship.It really doesn't look like I'm so depressed and melancholy that I was locked up in a closed room in this madhouse. On the contrary, judging from my posture, I look like a movie actor. I successfully played a certain character in a movie This character is about to go on stage and is about to receive an Emmy award!

I was so depressed in the hospital that I couldn't help but miss Neil.What is he busy with now?If he knew that such a big event happened to me, would he rush to see me? I recalled the days when I got along with him, there was always endless talk between us. I remember half a month ago, after I finally confessed our relationship to my mother, she was actually very excited: "I like that guy very, very much," she said thoughtfully, "He has always supported me, including my writing." "That means you don't exclude me from dating him, do you?" I asked curiously.

"Listen, Augustine," she said, "I don't want you to repeat my pain. I mean, when I was a little girl, what a terrible oppression I went through, physically and mentally! Because I know—" She lit a Moore cigarette, "It's not easy to find yourself again! What I want to tell you is that sometimes, I wish I had someone like me back then. Your mother. You are very lucky, because I have given so much for you, especially emotionally. I understand your choice, which makes me feel very happy, do you understand?" I said, "Great! I'm glad this didn't bother you. After all, it's serious business for me and him. He's obsessed with me now."

"Really? That's what you want, isn't it?" "um, yes." "In that case, I fully support your relationship." I was a little overwhelmed by her reaction.This is beyond my expectation.I was worried that if I told the truth, she would retaliate even more-I mean, she would be completely desperate and see me as a complete rebel, so immediately I could hear a series of sounds: the plate fell on the floor, The door was slammed shut, and the windows were smashed to pieces.Unexpectedly, nothing happened.I thought that by telling her about it, I would be hungry and full from today, and often go to bed hungry.

"Did you talk to Dr. Finch about your relationship with Neil?" Mom asked. "Yes, he does," I said. "Then what did he say?" "Well, he... I don't know. I think he doesn't mind. He thinks it's better if I don't, of course. He's not trying to stop me, though. He said I should tell you, see how you want." "Yeah," she said, ripping a hair out of her trousers, "I'm glad he's tolerant and supportive." When I was about to tell the doctor about my relationship with Neal, I specifically made an appointment through Hope because I thought it was a big deal and I should tell him in a formal setting rather than him sitting in his underwear while I was debriefing. In front of the TV, while watching TV with squinted eyes, he was biting the thigh of an old hen.At that time, when I walked into his office, he said enthusiastically, "Come on young man, sit down and tell me what's wrong with you." Sitting in his office, on a couch reserved for the mentally ill, was eerie in itself, surrounded by a plethora of psychiatric devices and drugs, and I felt like a patient. "Neil and I are friends, and I mean that kind of friend," I blurted out. "Boyfriend?" he repeated. "Yes. We were ordinary friends at first, but now our relationship is very special. He likes me, and I like him too." "Did you have physical contact? I mean physical relationship." His voice sounded very professional. I shook my head and added, "But we used to walk hand in hand, and he hugged me once." He let out a long sigh and said, "I must tell you, young man, my daughter Natalie is enough to give me a headache, I never thought you and Buckman Neal..." His The tone was a little sad. "I know," I said, "I'm sorry." "I don't think it's wrong for a young man to have an affair with someone much older than him, but I do worry about your options." Worry?Did he mean Neil, his godson? "What do you mean by that?" "Well," he said gravely, "Bookman is unreliable. He has a lot of problems, very, very serious problems." "Maybe, but he looks normal." "I'm not saying you can't see him. As you say, your relationship is already very deep. I know from past experience that if a young man's mind is full of one thing, then no one or anything can Stop him. But I want you to keep me informed, and if you think something is wrong, I want you to tell me right away." I feel like I just bought a used Ford and the salesman just thought of reminding me that as long as I don't hit the brakes too hard in the parking lot, the car will basically not explode, but it's better to pay attention and keep your eyes open Keep your eyes open for signs of smoke. I said, "Okay, I'll take your words to heart. But, he's really normal now, and we're on good terms." "Really? I'd be happy then," he said, and he spun the wheelchair around and took a bottle from the back shelf. "Would you like some pills?" he asked. "What is this? I looked at the white bottle and asked curiously. "Let me take a look," he said, pulling his glasses up to his nose and reading the label carefully. "I just got it from the postman, so I'm not sure yet... Ah, that's it, yes. It's a benign antidepressant that makes you feel calmer when you take it." I shrugged: "Okay, then give it to me." He handed me the bottle and I put it in my coat pocket with my cigarettes. Now, my mother looks up at me and smiles.She didn't say anything, just smiled like she was proud of me, or something. "You're an independent young man now," she finally said. "I'm proud to have a son like you." "Thanks," I said, and I looked down my jeans and felt for the hole at the knee. "Would you like to hear a poem I wrote recently? I've only finished the first part, and it's kind of rustic, but it's a journey of my soul, and one with my creative subconscious. I think it must have something for you Help, because as a free and rational young man, you also embark on a spiritual journey." In addition to my mother, Dr. Finch and Hope, more and more people seemed to find out about my secrets with Neal, including Agnes.Just one recent afternoon, she walked into the TV room and witnessed the most intimate encounter Neal and I had ever had. At that time, my head was resting on Neil's lap, and Neil's hand was on my head, stroking gently. She exclaimed: "What's the matter with you?" Neil told her: "Don't make a fuss and don't bother us!" Agnes was so angry that she was trembling.When she left the room, we both stood up at the same time, seemingly embarrassed. I was in the hospital for two weeks.After I left, Dr. Finch called the school authorities and explained them in detail.He said I had attempted suicide and would need to be out of school for six months to be under his specialized supervision and treatment. Dr. Finch's approach seemed to be working, because the school sure enough stopped calling about it. On the third day after I came home, my mother came into the house and came to the kitchen to see me cooking a smoked pork leg in her wok while smoking a cigarette. "You've been staying with Dr. Finch lately," she said. "Um, uh," I responded vaguely.I don't think I need to remind her that it was her own reasons that forced me to stay in other people's houses and just hang out in other people's homes. "I think it's a good thing to have you socialize with so many people." It's true, I think.I do like the Finch family and enjoy being around them.Some of them don't like to sleep, and some of them try to find happiness. "I've exhausted all my emotions to create poetry, and I'm exhausted now. I've been wrestling with myself to find who I really am, and I want to win this battle, once and for all." "Yes, I understand you," I replied.I used a knife and fork to chop the bacon shank into small pieces. "Also, my relationship with Fern was strained and I was frustrated by her torment." "Can you pass me that tissue?" "So, it's hard for me to be your mother, the kind of mother you need." She handed me a stack of tissues. "Ok." "So, after discussing this issue with the doctor, we both felt that this is the best choice." As soon as she finished speaking, a document appeared in front of my eyes. "what is this?" "This is good news—Dr. Finch has agreed to be your legal guardian." I was shocked!I looked at her: "My what?" "This is definitely the best choice for you. Dr. Finch and his family can give you the care you need. And he is very willing to do so." She put her hand on my arm. "The doctor is very happy." Like you, he thinks you're actually passionate about life. He said to me at the time: 'Augustine has a strong sense of self. He can make his own choices and achieve great dreams in life.'” "So, in a nutshell, you want to turn me over to your psychiatrist," I said. "It's not a transfer," my mother said softly. "I'm just taking responsibility for you and doing what's best for you and for us. I love you very, very much, and I I will still be your mother in the future, and you will always be my son." Soon after, a series of papers were signed, and Dr. Finch was changed to be more than just my mother's psychiatrist. He became my adoptive father.