"liv·ing

noun /'liviNG/

livings, plural

    An income sufficient to live on or the means of earning it

        - she was struggling to make a living as a dancer

        - what does he do for a living?

    (in church use) A position as a vicar or rector with an income or property

    The pursuit of a lifestyle of the specified type

        - the benefits of country living

adjective /'liviNG/

    Alive

        - living creatures

        - flowers were for the living

    (of a place) Used for living rather than working in

        - the living quarters of the ship

    (of a language) Still spoken and used

    (of water) Perennially flowing

        - streams of living water"

I shut the dictionary and tossed it off my bed. I pulled the blankets over my head and shut my eyes tightly. 'That makes sense I guess.' I thought trying to look at it logically.

I let out a long low sigh.

My cat jumped off the bed as I threw my blankets off me.

I got up automatically and looked out the window with my normal wide eyes. I took the view of the street in with no emotional registration. I turned slowly and walked to the top of my stairs. I heard not a single sound coming up to the attic. I moaned and fell to a sitting position and clutched my head.

'What Am I going to do? I need to go now. Whats wrong with me? Why am I doing this? Why am I here like this? What the fuck is wrong with me?' I snapped my eyes open and got back up and walked back over to my bed. I laid down and pulled the covers over again.

'This needs to be fucking over, RIGHT NOW.' I thought with a pang of anger only slightly before my anxiety swooped over again.

"Liv Audery Evans?" Rang out through the waiting room.

The room was empty except for A young lady with blonde pigtails fixing a few magazines in order.

I stood up and walked quietly across the room to a desk sitting by a entrance door. "Hi" I said smiling while staring at the women politely. She had thick rimmed black glasses and short brown hair. She was wearing scrubs with a name tag saying Alexandra.

"I'll just need you to fill out this paper work before we can admit you into the Help Center."

She said handing me a clipboard.

'That's right. I'm getting help. What of it? I've reached the end of this.'

I walked over and sat back down and started to fill out my basic information.

I flipped the page and saw things like,

'Do you ever feel like you are something but you arent?' I tapped my pencil and circled 'NO'

'I thought I was just getting help not going to a mental ward…'

I finally filled out the whole stupid file and handed it back to 'Alexandra'

"Good Good now if you follow me I can show you you're living areas…"

I followed her automatically through the double doors into what looked like the most boring old folks home I've ever laid my eyes on.

'I don't like this…'

I thought carefully as I saw the people I'd be living with for a while.

A man whispering and count while flicking on and off a light switch,

A woman in her room that seemed to be crying,

And Dear lord save us a Old lady giving me the evil eye.

"So, how long is treatment because I'm not that serious." I said As Alexandra lead me into a small room with two beds a night stand and one single window. "Well you seem to have a 45 diagnostic so after that we will Do a evaluation to see how well you're doing." She said flipping through my paper work.

"45 days? Oh.. I guess that's okay." I said sitting down on my bed and looking out the window. There wasn't much to see like at home. There was just some trees and some mountains and past that you could see a small town. At my house you could see people on the streets- LIVING.

"Make yourself at home! I'll get you're roommate in soon!"

And that's how I got here.