Tom opened the door to his house and slowly shuffled in, with his hands in his pockets.
"Tom? Is that you?" Tom's mother, Simone, asked from the living room.
"Would you come in here? We have some, um, news to tell you."
Tom made his way into the living room and saw his parent seated on the couch, looking rather serious.
"What is it?" Tom asked, sitting down on the chair across from them.
Simone looked at her husband, Gordon, and replied,
"Your grandmother has passed. " Simone said solemnly.
"Which one? The one in Oregon, or.." Tom trailed off.
"Your other grandmother, the one in the mental hospital. She went peacefully in her sleep."
Tom's grandmother had been recently put in the mental hospital. She wasn't crazy, but she was getting old and starting to lose it. Tom had only been there a few times to visit. Each time, he had never been called Tom. His grandmother's memory was starting to leave her as well.
"That's, too bad." Tom replied, and looked down to the floor.
"There's another reason why we called you in here." Gordon glanced at Tom, who immediately looked up.
"We need you to go down there and pick up her stuff from her room. We can't go, because we're going out of town tomorrow. Are you up to it?" Simone asked. Not that she had given him much of a choice.
"Uh. Yeah I guess." Tom knew he couldn't really say no.
He really dreaded going there. It was kind of depressing, of course, his grandmother wasn't kept in the parts of the hospital where the really loony patients were, but just seeing everyone in their white rooms made him feel kind of down.
"So can you head out there tomorrow around noon to get her belongings?"
"Thankyou Tom." his mother smiled, he let out a little smile back and headed up the stairs.
Noon rolled around the next day, Tom grabbed the keys to the car and headed outside. He drove a few miles before pulling up to the hospital parking way. It was pretty empty except for a few scattered cars parked here and there. He slammed the door behind him. It was a sunny summer day, making the boring building a little bit cheerier. He walked in, and a lady greeted him.
"Hello sir, are you here to visit anybody today?" She asked, a phony receptionist smile across her face.
"No no, I'm here to get my grandma's stuff."
"Okay then. What's her name?" she smiled again, tapping her nails on the counter.
"Clementine Trumper." Tom stated.
"Alrighty. Doesn't ring a bell. I'll check the computers."
It didn't seem like she knew any of the patients names anyway. She typed away at her keyboard.
"Okay, here she is. Or, was. Room 487. Down that hall over there. " she pointed to a hallway to the right.
Tom started walking down the hall, looking in some of the rooms as he passed them. 480, a girl was just laying on her bed humming. She looked normal enough. He glanced at her papers on the wall.
'Courtney Miller- Thinks she's Brittney Spears'
Tom kept walking past other rooms. He passed 481, just a guy talking to a fern about his day. Not completely insane. But certainly odd. He passed 482, another young guy. Just laying down on his bed, reading book. Upside down. He shook his head and kept walking. He got to 483, he saw a young girl with black hair, sitting on her bed, with her knees to her chest. He glanced at her papers, and saw it was actually a he.
"Bill Kaulitz- no diagnoses yet"
As he was looking at Bill's papers, the boy looked up.
"Hey." the black haired boy quietly said, but loud enough that tom could hear.
Tom jerked back from the papers, and looked back in the room. The boy was looking at him.
"Um..hi." Tom replied, not wanting to be rude, even if he was mental.
"Why are you here?" the boy asked innocently.
"I'm um. Getting my grandma's stuff. She's down the way a little bit." Tom nodded his head to the way he was going.
"Oh. So you're not new here." Bill sighed.
"No. Sorry." Tom started to turn around,
"I'm not crazy you know."
Tom didn't reply, he kept walking down the hall. He didn't really want to go back that way now. He got to the room his grandmother was in. There were only 2 boxes in the corner. Next to them, was a flat rolling cart. He picked up the boxes and put them on the cart. He looked around the room. It was completely white. He pushed the cart out to the hall. He looked for another way to go, to avoid that boy that talked to him earlier. He looked around and saw that the hall only had 4 more doors, then went to a wall. Dead end. He took a breath and pushed the cart the way he came. He passed 484, then got to 483.
"Hey wait!" a familiar voice called
It startled Tom, who jerked the cart a bit too quickly and toppled a box to the ground, spilling it's contents.
"Shit." Tom cussed under his breath.
"I'm sorry. That was kind of my fault," Bill apologized, "do you need help?"
"No no no it's okay I got it." Tom replied, getting tense, picking up the objects, which he only dropped again out of nervousness.
Bill saw him drop the same plastic mug four times, before walking over to lend a hand. Tom twitched a bit.
"I told you, I'm not crazy like the rest of these people." Bill added, trying to calm Tom down.
"How would I know that? Maybe you are, and don't know it." Tom said quietly, trying not to anger the strange boy.
"I've been around crazy for 5 years. I know it when I see it. I'm not. Trust me." Bill picked up the last of the things that had spilled onto the linoleum.
"Thanks." Tom said.
"Can you do me a favour?" Bill asked.
"Uh." Tom looked at Bill, he was really pretty, something he hadn't noticed before. He also didn't look, or sound, all that crazy. Maybe he wasn't lying. "Sure..." he answered.
Bill took a breath, "I want you to help me get out."