*Saber's Private Journal/Thoughts*

1. (adj) tattered, tatterdemalion
worn to shreds; or wearing torn or ragged clothing
Synonyms: bedraggled, broken-down, ramshackle, tatterdemalion, derelict, tumble-down, tattered, dilapidated, shattered
Antonyms: new, preserved
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There was no paper where he was now - but the cell phone his Mom had just given him had a recording option on it so he could save notes for himself. Saber turned on the phone and began to talk, voice hoarse and raw.

"First things first. I can't let him win. I won't. Even dead, he's trying to win and I won't let him." He draws a breath and continues. "Second - I'm amazingly fucking lucky Lana is my Mom. I like to think maybe Ravenna sent her to me. She knew I'd need someone when it all came crashing down." A cough and he continued. "Third - Dax and Mom need to hook up because he's the best Dad I've had and he doesn't even know it. There's a click as he shuts it off and dozes a little, the drugs keeping him from staying awake too long. About an hour passes and he stirs, lying there for a long few minutes before turning the recording on again.
"Fourth - Being in this place is the scariest thing I've done since killing my father. I hate it here. I want to go home. But I'm too broken still. Maybe I can get them to put me somewhere else. But this place - it smells like failure and death. I'm not old enough for that. Not yet." A faint ragged laugh and he continues. "Maybe I'll be old enough for it in a day or so? Psych wards are not for the weak of spirit, that's for damned sure."

*click*