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He wished he didn't know why he was there.
He wished he could confidently say that he was here because of a misunderstanding. And he was, but he was still there because of one reason. He had climbed a tree, desperate to feel like he was on top of the world. There, he could rule the universe, he would never feel small there. Up there he would never wish to be invisible because he was important because no one knew him but they knew he was important. It was a beautiful fantasy until the branch he was holding onto gave way and he fell and fell and fell and landing with a hard thud and his arm going numb.
He had laid on the ground. He knew someone was going to come and get me, they would notice he wasn't back yet. After all, that's what park rangers were for, to teach people about the park and to keep people safe. He was safe until the limb had slipped out of his hand. It was funny how he didn't feel scared when he fell. When it broke his stomach dropped but then it was peaceful. The branches slowed his fall, scraping and cutting his body as he fell.
He hadn't technically been that high. Maybe 30 feet, maybe 40. He knew from a math class that a two story house was about 20 feet high. He was just trying the climb that stupid 40 foot tall oak tree at stupid Eleson Park. No one would commit suicide by jumping off of their roof, so why did the hospital think that and why did his mother reluctantly agree? He had been climbing the the tree to climb the tree and rule the universe, not to jump away and die. He didn't think so anyway.
Perhaps they referred him to the mental ward because he had been to the hospital before. He had had an anxiety attack during the school year before and out of medication, was convinced he was having a heart attack again. He hadn't felt like that since before Dr. Sherman had given him his medicine. His mother was scared and couldn't remember how she had calmed him down before because it had been so long and driven him to the hospital.
There was the one time after that when he had taken his medicine before going to brush his teeth, unlike every other day, and when he went back to his room we went back to his routine and took it again. But then he had stayed up late and, despite the two doses of medication he had taken, felt anxiety eating at his stomach so he had taken more in his blind, tired state. He had to be taken to the hospital then, too, and the staff and his mother were worried he had been trying to overdose.
He had felt a level betrayal when his mother sent him a worried glance when the nurse suggested he had attempted suicide. When the nurse had lightly grabbed his mother's shoulder and angled her away, his mind was numb from the extra medication, but he sensed that something was wrong. They eventually let him home after a mental evaluation but said if they ever saw him back under similar circumstances that they would send him to the mental ward to watch and make sure everything was alright.
When he arrived at the hospital, they had treated him and then called for his mother to come from the hospital across town where she worked. His face had been burning in shame and embarrassment when his mother arrived with a concerned and disappointed face. When he was asked if he was attempting suicide he was so taken aback at hearing it out loud that his stuttered response was hardly believable.
Now he sat in the community room at a circle where the other kids that were his age were in brightly colored chairs. They were talking about something that had slipped his mind. The large locked door to the community room opened and through walked a boy with his head hung but his face was covered by long hair. An older nurse with white hair walked up and led the boy away down the hallway to their rooms. He wondered vaguely who it was and where they were going. I felt a pang of panic as I realized that the room I was in had an open bed.