“My stupid new roommate, she was just here a second ago.”

“All right, well enjoy your lunch, we will talk soon.”

“I can’t wait,” I said sarcastically after him as he left, cheerfully whistling all the way down the hall. I considered a hunger strike in the hopes I would die of starvation, but I knew from previous experience that it would only lead to an increase in antidepressants and threats of IVs.

I hosted back my thin threadbare blanket and swung my feet onto the cold linoleum. Bitching and grumbling, I put on my cheap hospital issue slippers. I hoped Jamison would bring me my fuzzy socks. They make you wear something on your feet when you’re walk...

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