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It was not always like this. There was a time when he didn't snap at people for no reason, when he was alone in the kitchen with the person he loved, when he could sense his body alive without having to hurt it, when he loved and felt loved, when he could do things by himself, when cooking a simple meal was a task he could handle, when he didn't feel a weight on his stomach, when people's stares didn't seem to follow him constantly, when the sound of his heartbeat was not so loud, when he was alone in his head, when his thoughts were his and his alone to share, when the day was not punctuated by the assumption of medications, when he could sleep without nightmares, when he treated himself differently, when he didn't wake up in the dead of night in a puddle of sweat and sticky hair, when his flesh didn't weigh him down, when he could laugh for real and not to hide discomfort, when saying “I'll see you later.”was no big deal and not a temporary lack of breath. It had not always been like that.
Mercutio has lived with these friends of his in the asylum (it almost became his home now) for 13 years 5 months 29 days 7 hours and 34 seconds. He'll be 25 in sixteen minutes. -You'll be 25 year old.- “I know.” -Are you gonna do anything about it?- “Am not.” -You're so shtupid.- 'He knows, he just doesn't care to be so worthless.' “I do care, why do you always do this to me?” -You're a waste of our time.- 'He's right.' “No, you're both lying! I am going to-” -What? Tell them you're hearing voices?- 'They'll keep you on medications again.' -No one would believe you.- “You're lying!” -You know we're not.- “Go away, please! J-just let me sleep...” he sobbed frantically, curling up into a ball under the sterile sheets and covering his ears -What a futile action...- 'He's an idiot.' -It's no use covering your ears, we are inside your head, shtuuupid! We're on the inside he he he he he he he!- 'Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi!' the two sick laughters ringed in his head louder and louder, evoking a pained scream of despair from the boy. Mercutio was dead to the world, in that moment the only thing he paid attention to were the voices in his head. “...tio...Mercutio!” a voice snapped him out of it, that voice “Doctor! Doc-doctor!” he gasped, grabbing onto the doctor's upper-arms tightly -He's gonna hurt you.- “No, stop it!” screamed -He is going to tear you in pieces.- “STOP IT!” the boy exploded, moving fast and unintentionally hitting the doctor's cheekbone “Oww!” 'Look what you've done.' “No, no it wasn't my fault!” 'You've hurt him.' “I'm so sorry, I swear, I'm sorry please, just please, stop it!” Mercutio was practically crying by now, eyes swollen and red, chest heaving with the force of his breaths sliding down the wall to curl in a corner -He hates you now.- “Mercutio, look at me!” he looked up to the doctor “It's alright, nothing happened.” and the voices randomly quieted down, cast in the back of his mind as he focused solely on what doctor Capulet was telling him, his low tones a cool balm on a brain which seemed to be on fire, Mercutio clutched at the doctor's robes “I'm okay now, doctor, you must have more important things to do.” he had gotten used to frequent breakdowns before and after his uncle hospitalized him to keep up the family's facade.
“Why don't you come with me in the office instead and we talk about it?” Mercutio was hesitant on the matter but he could not deny the request, it would attract attention and he wasn't up to bear nurses and less kind doctors poking around and about. “Sure thing, doc.” they shuffled through doors and long blank corridors and barren halls where others like him gathered to have lunch and spend time with their hobbies; mostly they had puzzles to complete, plenty of paper and tools for almost every technique of drawing and painting, chess, block notes, an old black piano cornered to a wall. He and the doctor arrived to the office and he opened the door gesturing Mercutio to the light brownish sofa, while the doctor instead sat on the dark forest green armchair with oak wooden arm rest. Mercutio liked that armchair.
“So, what did they tell you?” “The usual, you should have all of their conversations up until now.” “That's not an answer.” “I know.” “I foresaw you weren't up for a chit-chat, but so am I, now would you please drop the attitude? You know it's counterproductive.” Mercutio sighed, resigned, he wouldn't let him go back to his room unless he told him, very well. Fighting back the anger and sadness and tears that already begun to build up he said “They called me stupid, and worthless, and-” he glanced briefly at the clock: four minutes and counting down “-and she told me you hate me.” Tybalt (this was the doctor's name) thinned his lips, pursing it to the right side, a small particular gesture he often made, as if he was mulling over something.
One minute left.
“Alright, is there anything else you'd like to share with me?” fifty-four seconds “No, nothing really.” -Liar.- Mercutio ignored her fastidious humming.
Forty-one seconds. “Needless to say, you can tell me everyth-” but was cut out “Yes, yes, I know, doctor-patient confidentiality, really doc I have been in here for nothing short of thirteen years and you still remind me of these things? What are we, married?” the doctor gave a soft smile and he swore he saw the faintest blush but he was mentally unstable, his habit was to ignore what he saw and heard most of the times. Eleven seconds left. Mercutio got up and motioned to the door, hand on the knob “So, umm...” -What the hell is happening to you?- “I'll see you at lunch, I mean, as doctor and patient...” “Yes, at lunch, right, as... doctor and patient.” Mercutio was turning to leave as he was called out “Mercutio.” “Yeah?” “Happy birthday.” Mercutio smiled widely at the doctor and gave a quick nod, gently closing the door behind him, the grin still stamped across his features and strolled away to his room, humming and content.
-You're a handful, boy.-