The entrance to the Grace Mental Health Unit sat away from the road and was protected by the thick hedge that kept it hidden all year round. Glen Dempsey parked his car in the visitors parking lot and made his way to the entrance. Once inside the building he immediately felt as though he had entered another world altogether. The receptionist was an older lady that sat behind a glass partitioned wall that gave the feeling of a prison rather then a medical facility. She raised her head from her computer and cocked her head forward so she could look over the top of her bifocal glasses all in one movement giving her the appearance of a gangly bird. “Can I help you?”
Glen’s mouth felt dry but he quickly found his voice. “Yes. I’m here to see Jim Stevens.”
“Did he know you were coming?”
“Yes. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”
“If you’ll sign in here you can wait for him in the visiting room.”
From the other side of the glass came a clipboard with a pen chained to it. The form asked for: name, time-in, time-out, and a signature. The form also contained a disclosure statement at the bottom and a list of things you could not bring in to give to the patients. He had never thought to bring Jim anything and suddenly felt empty handed. With the signature and arrival time set, the receptionist buzzed the door allowing him to enter into a larger room that contained all the feel of a living room. Tables and chairs on one end with shelves full of books and games. On the other end was a couch that faced a television set.
The TV was on but he had to strain to even hear what was being said. The entire couch was occupied by a rather large man sleeping on it. Sitting at one of the tables and chairs was a teenage boy dutifully working on a legal note pad. He was skinny and looked rather pale. His jet black hair seemed to amplify this. The first word that came to Glen’s mind Continue reading →
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