"Mr. Oliver please hold still, it's time for you to take your medicine". An old nurse with silver hair held a cup of medication in one hand and some water in another, trying to sooth this overly handsome man.
Mr.Oliver was 5'11 inches in hight and towered over Mrs. Corina who was barely 5'4 and was in her 60's. As she looked at the tan skin that looked like a perfectly golden piece of toast, she thought to herself, "I'm getting to old for this".
Just as she thought this, a chair came flying at the door where she stood on the other side with a small flap in between them, just big enough for the water and pills.
Mrs. Corina jumped back at this and nearly fell flat on her bum, glaring at the Gorgeous man locked in on the other side.
This was Saint Catrinas mental health hospital for those who were very unwell, and Mr. Oliver was held in a private room on the lowest floor of the building where only the worst of the worst were held.
These were the people considered to be too mentally ill to go to prison, so instead they were thrown down here and mostly forgotten by most people. Of course this was very illegal, most mental health hospitals could only hold patients for so long unless they signed something saying otherwise.
But down here, there were no such freedoms for these patients, as such they seemed more like prisoners.
Although she had worked here for 30 years she had never seen a man such as this brought into the lowest floors before. Sure he seemed to have a temper and thought he was a different person, but was he really so insane he needed to be locked in a cell in the basement?
Although she wondered this she did not dare to ask a soul.
To her knowledge he had no prior crimes so he could not be considered a criminal, nor did he seem too unstable, minus his random fits of anger and lashing out. Those only ever happened when his medication wore off and his delusions of a different life would come to him, this caused him to become agitated and anxious to leave. It normally went down once he was sedated and given his medication.
That, of course, was rare. Since the doctors had a good sense of when his medication wore off they were able to give him a new dose before he lost sight of himself once again.
As of late they had no such incidents. Only his anger at having to take his medication, he complained that it made him sick.
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Mr. Oliver sat on the other side of the door as the elderly lady pushed his meds through telling him he better take them or she would have to call the orderlies to sedate him first.
He hated that, so reluctantly he walked over to the dingy door made out of metal that seemed to rust around the edges and was covered in scratches, some from nails, and other with plastic utensils.
He bent down to pick up the folding chair that he had carelessly thrown at the door just moments before and set it down gently before grabbing the medication and putting it in his mouth, he took a big drink to let her see him swallow the medication before she was satisfied and continued on her way down the basement.
After she left he had taken the pills from under his bottom lip and slipped them in his spare sock he hid in his pillow case.
He dropped the colorful pills in with the rest, the sock nearly overflowing from the medication he hadn't taken.
No one ever seemed to check his room or not believe he wasn't taking his meds. He still acted numb and aggressive at times to throw any suspicion off of him so that they would possibly allow him some more freedom.
When was the last time he had been outside in the fresh air?
He couldn't tell, it had been too long only seeing this grubby basement. He got to work in the greenery which was one of his few times out of his room, they called that his 'stable times' which they had meant to mean he was safe to leave. Unfortunately the greenery was also underground in the basement in the far back. This made him feel suffocated.
After he put the sock back in his pillow case he glanced back through the glass on either side of the door. Sadly it was the shatter proof kind, making it impossible to break with anything he had in his possession.
He watched the nurse walk back and head to the door with the code where she turned her body to block any view when he suddenly and violently threw himself against the door making incoherent sounds causing her to back up, and then slowly walk back towards his room.
"Mr.Oliver are you okay, do I need to get someone?" Mr.Oliver answered her by staring past her as if he saw a ghost behind her and he repeated over and over,
"No, no, please" was all he could get out of his raspy throat. He had fallen to the floor and pushed himself along the dirt and grime until he hit the cold wall behind him. He hysterically repeated the same plea over and over as if not seeing her at all.
However, the nurse was used to this behavior and shook her head before walking away not noticing Mr. Oliver get his composure back almost instantly. He stood up soundlessly off the floor and dusted himself off as he moved back to the window and watched her leave.
Unaware that this small disturbance caused her to momentarily forget to block the keypad as she typed in the code- 46729- believing Oliver was having a fit and knowing the other rooms were not in view of the door, she figured she was okay.
He watched her as she climbed in the elevator and left, not knowing he saw her put in the code and now was one step closer to his goal.