CRACKED OPEN Mischa Reddy 7th Grade • Taft Freshman Academy
Dedicated to the girls who taught me what it means to be beautiful. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. “How are you really feeling?” I glance down at my feet. They took away my shoelaces before I came inside. It seems like years ago now. “Don’t worry,” Miriam persists, “we’re all here to support you.” I know she’s trying her best, but I don’t know these people. I’ve been here for three days, they can’t expect me to open up right away. I don’t understand how they can just tell each other these things. I know that’s the point of these meetings, but how do you tell someone you’re not okay? I’d like to say that I’m unfazed by the whole “mental institution” thing, and back on the outside, I probably would have. But they don’t expect me to be perfect like that in here. They’re just trying to help. “Okay,” Miriam continues, “well, Blair, hopefully, we’ll talk with you a little more tomorrow.” I nod. “Yeah, that sounds manageable.” Manageable. That’s been my word for the past few days. How has your day been? Manageable. What’s it like inside there? Manageable. The door to the community room clicks open, and one of the nurses walks in with the lunch cart. She collects our trays, before placing art supplies on the table. 343
