Yellow everywhere. Yellow from the walls, to the bed, to the chair in the corner where I draw. Mental, that’s what they call me. I don't know why or what that means, but that's my name. No one told me my name, but I hear it in their whispers. My name is whispered everywhere. I feel sad for the “popular girls”. They feel the need to ignore me because they are jealous that I am so much more popular than them. Everyone talks about me. The whispers. They appear in my dreams that quickly turn to nightmares. “She’s mental”. My nurse, Patsy, calls me Sunshine. Why? Well, that is something that even I don't know. The facts. I repeat them over and over in my head as to not loose my grip. The facts.

My name is Mental. I live in a white building with gray tubes over the windows. My room is yellow; on the walls, on the chair, and on the glass in the windows. People whisper everywhere I go. I don't know why people are always talking about me, but never inviting me anywhere. People always make funny faces and then say that they are mad or sad, but I don't understand what they mean. The most important fact is I don't talk about what I see when I slip into Fish. Never, for any reason, should anyone know why I live at the white building. I wonder what facts Patsy says over and over in her head so that she doesn’t remember her past? I asked her once and she just looked at me with an odd expression on her face. Why do people make all those different faces? What do they mean? Whenever I think about the things that I don't know, I start to slip into Fish. I don't understand why or how it happens. It just makes me feel as if I will never be happy again. Fish makes me remember it all over again, but I don't want to remember. Patsy somehow always knows when I am slipping into Fish. All I remember is being in her arms and then suddenly waking up in a white room filled with whispers instead of my yellow one. Fish. Fish is what has caused me to live in the white building. Fish would make anyone have nightmares.

Over and over, the facts. It makes it hard to think about anything else. Everyone is constantly repeating what they say. The woman at the front of the blue room is constantly saying her ABC’s over and over again, then tries to get us to repeat them. But why? What purpose does this serve? I would much rather be drawing in the yellow chair, of my yellow room, with my yellow crayon. I wonder if the woman’s facts are her ABC’s? She is constantly saying them over and over, just like how I say my facts. Whenever I ask her, all she does is crunch up her face. Why do they all make those weird faces? Do they have another language that I do not know about? Everyone seems to understand it except for me. But why? The “popular girls” always ignore me. I don’t know why, but I think that they are jealous that everyone is always whispering about me and that makes me more popular than them. I repeat the facts over and over again. Must not slip into Fish. I just can’t. If I do slip into Fish, then I will end up in the white room filled with all of the whispers and pens once again. Click, click, click. The sound of the pens makes me crazy. What are they writing on those clipboards? Are they drawing like I do? They can't be drawing. They are not sitting in a yellow room in their yellow chair.

Suddenly I clamp my hands over my ears. The bell was yelling again. The bell slips into Fish everyday. I don't slip into  Fish nearly that often. When the bell slips into Fish, we walk down the hall and pass rooms where there is a usually a woman at the front of the room. It is odd because I never see the bell in the white room when I am there. Where does it go when it slips into Fish? Who carries it to the white room with the whispers and pens that go click click click and the people with clipboards? Does the bell feel the sharp pain of the shiny things that look like pens, but definitely don't feel like them? What is the bell supposed to do? I do hope that the bell is okay. I always have Patsy there to help me every time I slip into Fish.

Down the hallway. See Patsy. Left turn. Right turn. Down 9 steps. Through the door. Hang on to the shiny thing that looks like the poles outside my window. Wait for the bus to repeat its facts 3 times. Out of doors. Up the yellow steps. See white building. Breathe. Now I am safe. I didn't see her.

I often wonder why the subway has those facts? Why does the subway say its facts out loud every time it stops? I don't say my facts out loud. So why does the subway? The teakettle screams. The teakettle always slips into Fish when I get into the white building. I think it has something to do with the fact that Patsy always sticks it on the hot stove. After Patsy carries the teakettle and pours tea out of it, I walk up the stairs. One right. Down the hallway with all the picture frames. One left. I sit down in my yellow chair, in my room with yellow painted walls, with my yellow-tinted glass windows. I pick up the yellow crayon and start to draw. First I draw what I imagine that I would look like. I have very little recollection of what I look like. I avoid mirrors at all costs. My face doesn’t look like everyone else’s face. I draw yellow hair curled and pinned back. Yellow ears, small and delicate. Lastly I draw a yellow dress adjusted to fit perfectly around my waist. Setting down my yellow crayon, I open my dresser, the only thing in my room that is white besides my bed sheets, and I put my paper away in the third drawer down. I don't stop to admire my work. I don't know why and I don't know how, but every time I take the time to admire something all it does is disappear. Fish. I can feel it. I can feel myself slipping away. She is coming for me I just know it. They say I am safe. I have heard “you are safe” too many times. I don’t trust those who say it, because my brother also said that we were safe. I don't want to remember this, but I can’t help myself, it just happens. The dial tone of the cell phone. The bright flash of red blinding my eyes through my spotless window. The paramedics knocking on the door. What would have happened if she never came into my life? It was all so much better before she came. He was better. The flat was different. Not as much red. I like yellow. I feel strong arms pick me up and suddenly I can’t feel anything at all. Distantly, I hear the thud of shoes and the warmth of Patsy’s arms. It is a blissful realm of peace and harmony. I am safe.

Click. Click. Click. Again with the clipboards. What do they write? What caused them to only speak in whispers? Why do I recite my facts throughout every waking hour? So that I can keep my mind on something other than Fish. The Facts. My name is Mental. I live in a white building with gray tubes over the windows. My room is yellow on the walls, on the chair, and in the glass in the windows. People whisper everywhere I go. I don't know why people are always talking about me but never inviting me anywhere. People always make funny faces and they say they are mad or sad but I don't understand what that means. I don't talk about Fish. Never for any reason should anyone know why I live at the white building with gray tubes over the windows.

Off the white bed with the stifling sheets. Turn right past the curtains. Wait for Patsy, wave to the woman in the blue dress and long white jacket. I wonder why all of the people that click, click, click with their pens wear those jackets? I have never seen the girls at school wear them. What is up with their necklaces? I make them take their necklaces off when they come to visit me in my yellow room, with my yellow walls, and my yellow chair. The silver flashes of their necklaces remind me of the silver flashes her bracelets used to make as they clinked together; but, if I think about that I might slip into Fish.

Every once in awhile, when I am lying awake in bed on the edge of consciousness thinking the thoughts I don't want to think, I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t come to the white building. Would I still be the most popular girl at school? Would the woman in the blue dress, white jacket, and the pen that goes click, click, click still come to see me? What would happen when I slipped into Fish? Would I still have Patsy to take care of me until I was better? Would I still be living with my brother? I have always been in special programs at my school and have always looked different than everyone else, but it wasn’t until the month that she started putting white powders into his morning coffee that I realized that there was something seriously wrong with her.

I was getting better. I was getting better. I was getting better. That is what the woman in the white coat and blue dress said every time she came to visit me in my yellow room. I couldn't feel myself getting better. They always used words that I don't understand. Words such as traumatic, vaccines, and MRI. What was I getting better from? I had been sick before, but I haven't been sick for the past few months. What if this was the type of sick that I couldn't get better from? My brother was the type of sick you couldn't get better from. That is what the doctors said when he died. I don't believe them. I tried to tell the doctors over and over again that she was the reason that he died. I saw her put the white powder into his morning coffee. She claimed that the powder was just vitamins because he was sick, but I don't believe her. There it was again, I was slipping into Fish. I could feel Patsy’s strong arms around me once again. I knew that she was taking me to the white room with the pens that go click, click, click.

Every once in awhile, Fish is a good thing. Fish wasn’t all bad. One of the furthest days back that I can remember was near my fifth birthday. It started out badly. My mother dropped me off in a thrift store parking lot with nothing but the clothes on my back and the blanket in my hand. Why? I don't think anyone will ever know. I think it was because I looked different. I don't look like everyone else, which is probably one of the reasons why I am the most popular girl in school. My older brother, finding out what she had done, picked me up and drove me back to his flat in New York. It wasn’t amazing but it was a lot better than what I had ever had. That was before she showed up and changed him forever.

Days passed at the white building, this was the longest period of time that I didn't slip into Fish. Is what the woman in the blue dress and white coat was talking about? Does she think that Fish is caused by a sickness? Fish isn't a sickness. Fish is a part of me. It is who I am. You take away Fish and you take away me. It would be like cutting off a leg. I wouldn’t be the same. As much as I don't like slipping into Fish, I couldn't imagine life without it. Besides, like I said before, Fish isn't all bad. There was about a year of bliss. I would go to school in the morning, always have people talking about me, and be picked up by my brother in his Maserati Quattroporte. My brother was in no way stingy with money, He had a fancy but small flat in New York and a garage filled to the brim with exotic cars. His favorite was the Maserati Quattroporte. That was, of course, before she showed up. She had hated me since the day we met. She knew that she could not ever make my brother love her more than he loved me. She would point out every single one of my flaws to my brother. She would point out how much time it took to take care of me, how much money I cost, and how I was a spoiled brat. I never knew what they were talking about. I am no different than anyone else. I might look different but that doesn’t mean much does it?

Why did he stay with her? Why did he stay with her? Why did he stay with her? He must have known that she was an awful person. I don't think that he could guess that she was going to poison him for his money. How could he? The facts. Over and over. I let myself think about her and now I am going to slip into Fish. No I can’t I just can’t. I don't want to relive those memories of the night he died.

I could feel all of the memories from that day flooding into my thoughts like a hurricane about to sweep me off my feet. I remembered all of it. I was wearing a red shirt when he dropped me off at school. He was late picking me up after school. That freaked me out; he was never late. He knew how much I hated the disruption of my routine. I almost slipped into Fish. The moment he showed up I could tell something was wrong. The crease in between his eyebrows was deep and I had learned it meant nothing but trouble. He had slowly been getting sicker for the past few weeks. He couldn't figure out why, but I knew that it was the white powder she was putting into his morning coffee. We came home, he sat me down and gave me my afternoon snack of applesauce and goldfish just like every other day. He told me that he was going to lie down for a bit and asked if I would be able to take care of myself. You could very obviously see the dark rings under his eyes and I had a feeling that he had been up all night with a wastebasket in hand. She returned home from work; she worked as the secretary for a doctor's office. It was the little things that told you how she felt. She was in a bad mood. The lines above her right eyebrow jumped nervously, the crease deepened in her chin, and she got so very quiet. So quiet that is was eerie. As if I had just walked into a graveyard. It was like I could envision the waves of anger rolling off her like the waves of the sea. With every breath she exhaled, the negativity flowed off of her and onto the people around her. When she was upset she never said anymore than a sentence at a time. It was only a matter of time before she exploded in rage. She made him a glass of green tea and added the white “vitamins” to it. This was the most powder I had ever seen her put into his drinks. What would happen this time? Would he just get even more sick? I felt as if I had to do something. I yelled at her. I kicked and screamed hoping that my brother would come out and figure out what she was going to do to him. She slapped me. I remember the sting like it was yesterday. I had never been slapped before. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a lasting mark, but it sure stung enough to make me shut up. I didn't even register the fact that she was going into the room she and my brother shared. I was still in shock from her slapping me across the face. I decided that the throwing a tantrum method didn't work as way to stop her from giving the drink to my brother, so I cooperated with her as she put me to bed. No matter how tired I was, I would have never been able to sleep. I knew that something bad was going to happen, I could feel it in my deep part of my gut. Almost unconscious, I slid out of my bed and onto the floor. I waited for a moment to listen for her footsteps. Thankfully, she must not have heard my footsteps. I heard the tones of her phone’s dial pad. Beep. Beep. Beep. Only three. She must be calling an ambulance for him. I remember how badly I wanted to believe that this was over, but I wouldn’t let myself get excited. Something was wrong. Won’t she be caught if they find out that he was poisoned? I remember how confused I was. How could she imagine that she was going to get away with this? Suddenly I saw lights. I don't remember them making any noise. Did they make noise at all? She opened the door before they even got to the door. Oh, how she had them fooled. She slung herself across the first paramedic she saw. She had the paramedics wrapped around her finger, They comforted her while she cried on their shoulder. My brother wasn’t dead at the time, but once we all got to the hospital it wasn’t much longer until he was confirmed dead. Click. Click. Click. The women in the blue dresses and white jackets didn't notice her sneaking out of the exit, but I had trained my ears to recognize the sound of her footfalls. I learned at the white building when I listened to the nurses’ gossip, that she had drained my brother’s accounts and skipped town the day he died.

I went to live at the white building. It was rough for me to transition into my new routine with Patsy. I still live in fear that she will come back and put the white powder into my tea too; I am the only eye-witness that would be able to testify against her. Sometimes I slip into Fish, but that's okay because I am not afraid of it anymore. The facts. My name is Mental. I live in a white building with gray tubes over the windows. My room is yellow; on the walls, on the chair, and on the glass in the windows. People whisper everywhere I go. I don't know why people are always talking about me but never inviting me anywhere. People always make funny faces and then say that they are mad or sad, but I don't understand what that means. The most important fact is I don't talk about what I see when I slip into Fish. Never for any reason should anyone know why I live at the white building. Why do people make all those different faces? What do they mean? Whenever I think about the things that I don't know, I start to slip into Fish, but that's okay because I am not afraid of Fish anymore.