[h3][b]{[/b] [color=DarkSalmon]N I K O L A I[/color] [b]}[/b][/h3]
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[right][h3][b]Day 1 //[/b] [color=DarkSalmon]Stranger in a Strange Land[/color][/h3][/right]

I am startled awake by the rambunctious, loud clapping of the same woman who kept peeking in the room all morning. When exactly had I even managed to fall asleep? All night they had sent people - most likely techs of some sort - through the ward to check my room in what seemed like fifteen minute intervals. I don’t know if this is because I’m new… or if this is normal practice, but between that, and the squeaky noises the plastic mattresses had made every time one of us moved, I didn’t really get much sleep. To be quite honest, I haven’t voluntarily slept much at all in the past month. 

August 4[sup]th[/sup], 2016. That was the day that I [i]voluntarily[/i]  decided that I wanted to [i]sleep[/i]  forever. I was done pretending to be a boy ...a girl ...alive. I was simply done pretending to be anything at all. Yet here I am, distinctly [u][b]not[/b][/u] sleeping forever, not even sleeping through the night. I had never really thought much about the divine before - my parents aren’t religious, and my grandparents only slightly are. Of course, I thought about it that Sunday night, telepathically sending in my heavenly RSVP to whoever might be listening. But now, as I stare up at the ceiling from my top bunk as my two very obviously [i]boy[/i]-shaped roommates stir in their own beds, I am now certain of divine existence. You see, I actually [i]did[/i]  die on August 4[sup]th[/sup], and because the Almighty Shepherd could not accept a sheep that was neither black nor white into His flock, I awoke in Hell.

So, let us begin day one in Hell. We’ll call this day one, because I arrived at Treewit Psychiatric Hospital yesterday evening, and that doesn’t really count as a full day. I was only introduced to my roommates Rafael and “Sacha” so far, and they are both quite good looking and, as previously stated, quite masculine as well. My mother had politely informed the desk clerk of my pronoun preference when they had referred to me as her ‘son’ at check in, but they still assigned me to this room per their chromosome-based gender policies. One point for Hell, zero for Niki, I guess…

Raf is the first to get out of bed and, because I was informed that there is a tight schedule to be followed here, I blink the sleep from my eyes and follow suit. A bit like a lost puppy dog, I literally follow him out into the hallway, a few paces behind as to not seem too obvious about it. Rafael heads toward the closet at the end of the hall and plucks out a box with his name on it. Scanning the rows of labeled boxes, I find one labeled ‘Zabrecky’ with a crisp, fresh sticker and take it off of the shelf. Inside it lies a few basic hygiene products, which I take with me to the unisex bathroom. At least there is a gender neutral bathroom here. One point for Hell, one point for Niki, nice.

I brush my teeth and apply some deodorant for the day before looking into the mirror above the sinks. The 'mirror' is a large metal sheet, not glass, and it is solidly bolted into the wall - most likely to keep freaks like me from carving themselves up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I looked down at my arms, both covered in horizontal dashes in various stages of scarring. My left arm has the newest addition, a fresh pink line from wrist to mid-forearm that makes the whole collection look like a gruesome set of train tracks. I pull down my shirt sleeve and hope that I have more long-sleeved clothing to wear around here before looking back in the mirror.

Apparently, I am not yet allowed a comb or brush, as there is not one in the box. Perhaps we are expected to bring our own, but I didn’t really get to stop home on my trip from medical hospital to psychiatric hospital. As such, I am forced to finger-comb my dirty blonde, sleep-wrecked locks into something slightly more presentable. Plagued with dark circles to contrast my newfound pallor, I decide that I look appropriately ghastly for a dead person, and leave the bathroom before the mirror can really sink it’s claws into me. I’ll shower later if they let me, I prefer nighttime showers anyway.

After returning my hygiene box to the closet, I follow the foot traffic of other patients to the dayroom. People are being called out by name and receiving medicine cups with various pill cocktails. My wide eyes must make me look as lost I feel, or perhaps just very new, because the nurse meets my gaze and asks [b][i]”Nikolai… Zabrecky?”[/i][/b], pausing in between to look down and confirm the name on their paperwork. I nod up and down quickly, rather than saying ‘yes’ out loud. I am handed a cup with a single pill in it. Upon inspection, it is light green and oval-shaped, with ‘25’ and some random letters stamped into it. I have no idea what it is, but I swallow it just the same, and can’t help but think of that Ramones song... [i]I wanna be sedated[/i]. Yeah, that sounds about right. Whatever it is, maybe it will help me get some sleep.

The nurse instructs me to be weighed before I head to breakfast. The hospital has some kind of fancy scale that keeps me from seeing the result of me standing on it. The tech measuring my weight doesn’t say anything either, they just scribble it down on their clipboard, which is honestly fine with me. I don’t really want to know anymore… not yet, at least. I am informed that I must check in to be weighed every morning and night before meals. [i]Great[/i]. Two points for Hell, one point for Niki.

There is a small crowd of patients, my roommates included, waiting to be lead to the cafeteria. The clapping lady has to keycard swipe us into the hallway and proceeds to shuffle all of us little sheep into a mostly straight and single-file line towards our destination. I quickly grab the first tray of food that I can and dart towards an unoccupied table. If I am lucky, it will remain unoccupied. As the resident stranger in a strange land, I am well aware of the fact that it probably won’t remain that way for long - this isn’t my first time being the ‘shiny new thing’, after all. Once sitting, I take the time to study what is actually on my tray. It is pretty standard breakfast fair and doesn’t look wholly unappetising. I don’t really feel like eating it, but the two staff members circling the room like sharks make it seem like that isn’t really an option here. Ehh, three points for Hell, one point for Niki.

As predicted, I did not remain alone for long. A tan girl (Ivana) quietly sat a comfortable distance away and stared down at her plate of food, looking equally disturbed by it. She doesn’t greet me or even directly look at me, which is ideal, really. Now another girl (Eva) and my roommate, Raf, are here, and they sit even closer, smiling. I keep my eyes down and swallow a bite of sausage. My nerves make the bite go down hard, so I chase it with some juice, avoiding eye contact in the hopes that they won’t say anything. And, because they do eventually say something, we are now at a score of four points for Hell, one point for Niki, and it isn’t even 9 AM of day one yet.