Free Poppy Shakespeare by Clare Allan Page A

each time I looked at her, like just to say 'Alright', or something, she never even met
     my eye but stood arms folded, leant on one hip, staring across through the safety-glass windows, like blanking the whole of
     London.
    'Speech!' they shouted. 'Poppy! Speech!' She glanced down and seen two rows of dribblers clapping and stamping the carpet.
    'Don't worry,' I said. 'You don't have to say much.' She looked at me. 'You alright?' I said.
    'Speech!' they gone. 'Poppy! Speech!'
    'I've been better,' she said. 'I saw the doctors . . .'
    'Yeah?' I said.
    White Wesley whistled.
    'They say I've got to stay a month!'
    'That's alright!' I said, which I know it ain't science but every cell in my body sighed with relief. 'They say that to everyone,' I said. 'It's like a probation. Don't worry about it. They're bound to extend it; they always do! Fuckin'ell, Poppy!' I said.
    She frowned.
    'I thought they'd turned you awayl' I said. 'Reckoned you wasn't mad enough.' I knew that was tactless as soon as I said it but I was just so relieved do you
     know what I'm saying, like for her I mean, fact she hadn't been kicked out. 'You'll be fine!' I said. She was staring at me. 'Play your cards right, you could
     be here for years.'
    'I'm not being rude,' she said, 'but are you fucking stupid?!'
    She knew she was out of order alright. She looked away and taken a big deep breath. But then she just kind of waved her hand,
     like 'Fuck it! I can't be arsed.' And she walked off and stood between the two rows of dribblers, kept shouting 'Speech! Poppy.
     Speech!' And I had to sort of squeeze around behind her to get down the row to my chair, but I never said 'Excuse me' or nothing
     and I shown her the back of my head.
    I don't know why Poppy decided on Tina, maybe because she was done up so nice with her skirt clean and ironed and her hair
     all turned under, but she seemed to reckon she was her likeliest option. So most of what she got to say, she said it like
     talking to Tina, and Tina was so embarrassed being picked she knotted her fingers together, and she kept on glancing across
     at Astrid, and wriggling her fingers about and trying to get free.
    'I need to get out of here,' said Poppy.
    'Get out?' said Astrid. 'You've just arrived!'
    ' 'Cause there's nothing wrong with me,' said Poppy.
    'So why you here?' said Sue the Sticks.
    'Look at me!' said Poppy. 'Do you know what I'm saying?!' Tina blushed, stared down at her lap. 'Do I look like I'm mentally ill?' said Poppy. Tina nodded then shaken her head. She glanced over at Astrid like desperate. 'What's the
     procedure for getting out? I've told them there's nothing the matter with me! They're saying I've got to stay a month. I mean, Jesus Christ, I can't stay here a
     month!'
    'So what did you come for?' Astrid said and everyone said yeah. You could see not one of them weren't convinced; she might
     look as normal as a Sniff Street sniff but any second she'd whip out her ace and trump them.
    'So what did you come for?' said Astrid, again.
    Poppy shrugged. 'I didn't have a choice.'
    'You always got a choice,' said Sue. 'It might not feel like you have, but you do.
     I'm not saying it's easy but there's always a choice. I mean, personally, I used to self-harm . . .'
    'But I don't have a choice,' said Poppy. 'That's the point.' She give up on Tina. 'It's compulsory!'
    'Compulsory?' said Sue the Sticks. 'I never heard of that before.'
    ' I'm compulsory,' Candid said. But nobody paid no attention.
    'Day patients aren't compulsory,' said Astrid. 'There's no such thing.'
    'Compulsive maybe,' Zubin said, 'but not compulsory.'
    'But I am compulsory,' Poppy said. 'They say if I don't come every day they'll have to admit me as an inpatient.'
    Well no one knew what to say to that; it didn't make no sense at all, but you had to admit she seemed genuine stressed; it was hard to just dismiss
     it as dribbler bragging.
    All morning Rosetta been slumped in her chair, staring across at the empty brown vinyl, but