Blair sat in a chair across the room by herself, a sketchbook in hand. Her hand gently pressing a pencil to the paper, and with soft strokes began an outline for her drawing. A very detailed lush landscape laid before her, sprinkled with flowers all across the glen, and white puffy clouds in the sky. A bright a cheerful picture in nature, and something she was quite fond of drawing. For you see, she never really got to go outside, the only contact she had was when she looked out the window. Even that wasnâ€™t enough. But drawing things like this, things she missed the most, was the best she could do to cope.<br/><br/>She had gotten far into her drawing when the door opened, and for the first time she saw the new arrival. He was a boy, a young one, with scarlet hair that reminded her of a sunset. And she wasnâ€™t going to lie to herself either, he was handsome. She wondered what he was here for, what someone like him could possibly have wrong with him, and wondered briefly what his blood looked like. She shook her head, throwing her gaze down, away from staring at him She hated when thoughts like that sprung up on her, she never wanted to think about such things.<br/><br/>Then she noticed it, her picture. She hadnâ€™t stopped drawing when she looked up. She traced her hand over the picture, sadness filled in her eyes. The once fluffy angelic clouds had turned black, over a battlefield of dead bodies. Chaos torn and bloody, she couldnâ€™t look at it anymore. She closed the sketchpad and set it down along with the pencil. She curled up in the chair, disgusted by her own morbid thoughts. She felt her nurseâ€™s eyes on her, but she didnâ€™t care. All she could think about was how her picture ended up like that. Her fingers tried to dig into her arm, wishing she had her nails to puncture through it. She was truly disgusting in her mind, she didnâ€™t love anything about her. She just wanted the pain, she felt someone like her deserved it. The nurse seeing her trying to self-harm in secrecy came over to her, needle in hand.<br/><br/>â€œMiss Lacroix?â€ She said in a calm voice, â€œIs everything alright?â€<br/>She made eye contact with her. Darcie was Blairâ€™s own nurse. She was thin and very frail, Blair knew she wouldnâ€™t be able to restrain someone. With Blair, there was no need to do so. Darcie had got off easy in Blairâ€™s opinion.<br/><br/>She stopped digging her fingers into her flesh, red dots taking over their place on her arms. She looked at the needle with fearful eyes, she hated needles. She always had, and probably always will.<br/>â€œI donâ€™t need the needle Darcie,â€ She mumbled, â€œIt was just a slump, but it passed.â€ She plastered a fake smile on her face, hoping to sound convincing. That needle would not be going in her, not today.