Far From A Fairytale [Open]

[Renasance [Admin]]

"Well go get your shovel
And we'll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle
Bury the castle"

'Wow,I am far from a fairytale now..' Tink though to himself as he sat in the dirty, depressing patient lounge.

Tink sat quietly curled up on the least stained end of the couch, his un-focused attention on some random kids cartoon featuring talking sushi. Normally he would get a kick out of a cartoon that so obviously had it's roots in Japan, but now he was just depressed and listless.

Being locked up in the funny farm was a culture shock for vulnerable, pixie-like Tink. He had never seen so many forms of crazy shoved in one space. He'd already had a bad encounter with a schizophrenic girl who had left a nice purple bruise on Tink's pale cheek. He sighed once again, thinking about Charlie and wondering if he'd been made aware of the situation at hand. He, personally, didn't want Charlie to think he'd had some sort of mental breakdown. But he also didn't want to leave his koi-kun wondering.

He decided it was best for Charlie to know what happened, at the very least to know that Tink's father didn't kill him on that cold night that seemed so far away now..

The memory of his father beating him within an inch of his life for being who he was would always be burned in the back of his mind. That, and the unfortunate rape incident of his youth had made it very hard for him to trust anyone, particularly men and boys. But Charlie had been different. He had been understanding, loving, gentle, patient, kind. Tink felt the hot tears stinging his eyes but forced them away for another time.

Tink half-heartedly smile at the female nurse who poked her head with a simple 'Checks'. They did this to every room roughly every 15 minutes. He asked the young, auburn-haired nurse he fondly called 'Nii-san' (or big sister) if he could have some paper and a pen to write letters. The nurse dissapeared for a few minutes, returning with everything Tink needed to write to Charlie as well as his mother and older sister (Since his closest in age sister, Nori-chan was admitted as well).

He began to scribble out a letter to Charlie, telling him of the events of the night of his father's attack, as well as he and Nori-chan's admittance to Willowcreek. And making sure to tell him that he still loved him and that'd he be home as soon as possible, also listing dates and times he could visit (though he knew Charlie had no car and his mother wouldn't bring him).

Suddenly Tink realized there were tears falling and he needed to keep from breaking apart again. He thought he heard the door, but refused to look up and show anyone his weakness.

[~Akira~]

A trip to the lounge would make things a lot calmer in his mind wouldn't it? He had been holed up in that pathetic excuse of a room for so long that he couldn't even really think of the way things could be on the outside. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he dipped his head in respect of the nurse that had escorted him to the room. There was another person in the room, writing a letter or something it seemed. He moved across to a rather comfy looking char and sat in it, staring out the window. Winter. One of his favorite seasons. It was just so white, so pure.

He pushed his glasses farther up his nose. 'Oh Rian, you really need to stop thinking about it.... No one is coming for you....' A soft sigh left his lungs as he stared outside longingly. The fact that it was cold out deterred the orderlies from taking them outside. "Excuse me, nurse? Would it be alright if I had something to draw on and with?" Honestly, he wanted to draw something, anything to keep his mind off of why he was actually here. Sure he was depressed, and sure he tried to kill himself. But that didn't make him crazy did it? They said if he was good he would be released after a few months. But it had already been a few months, and he had taken alright to their little vaccine. And yet, there was just something about him that made him different enough for them to keep him here.

Oh yeah. That's right. He wrote letters to his dead parents....

They brought him what he had asked for. Sure, he didn't really prefer drawing with crayons.... But he supposed it was better than nothing. Now. Just what to draw....? "Excuse me?" He asked softly, trying to get the attention of the other person in the room. "Would you mind if I drew a picture of you? It might not be too great because of these crayons, but you're really pretty and I thought maybe drawing a person instead of a room would be nice for a change." Sure. Simple conversation had never been his best trait, but hey, whatever worked right?