Author: NinaKari PM
Summer Moore is not crazy. She's not. She's only in Always Sunny Mental Institution because of something she's not too proud of. But she's certain Reese Patterson is insane; with his Emo kid appearance. These two teens, complete opposites, will find comfort in each other to keep sane in a place where sanity was never present. However does one need more saving than the other?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 5 - Words: 6,832 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 02-14-13 - Published: 02-12-13 - id: 3100564
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I shifted uncomfortably in my black chair as I listened to the girl directly across from me tell everyone how her brothers best friend touched her inappropriately. That that's why she had to take a metal baseball bat to his skull while he slept.
No one said anything, leaving the spacious white room silent. It was all I could do to sit there and listen as she went into detail about where he touched her and what he did to her until she herself burst into tears. Her head hung low as she kept talking and I couldn't help but sense something was off. She was off.
"It's alright, Debbie," Ms. Sparks said solemnly. "Just relax, he can't hurt you here. Let it all out."
Can't hurt her here? The poor boy was dead, he wasn't going to be hurting anyone anytime soon. I wished she wouldn't let it out. Or I wished I didn't have to sit and witness her humiliation.
The girl sat and cried, though said nothing else. She crossed her arms over her stomach and rocked back and forth slowly, mumbling incoherent words.
"Alright, thank you for sharing Debbie. Summer? How about you? Do you have something to share or with us today?"
I stared at the older African American woman who stared back at me with chocolate brown eyes under dark lashes. The scrubs she wore went with her normal cheerful attitude: Minnie Mouse with tiny heart and I love you in large red and purple letters scattered all across the outfit. Clipboard and pen in hand, she stared back at me waiting for my answer.
It was always the same.
"I'd rather not," I said looking away. It didn't matter where though. I always met other eyes. Glossy, relaxed, medicated eyes that seemed to want me to spill everything, I never did.
"It's helpful to vent, Summer. It's not healthy for someone like you to keep things bottled up. Talk to us. Let us help you."
Someone like me? Really? Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality? I tried not to smile. They had already labeled me but I wasn't what they thought I was.
"I'll pass," I said, looking at her rather than the other patients.
She sighed and scribbled something onto her clipboard then moved on to the next victim-er-patient. She moved to a heavily medicated man, barely in his thirties, who wore padded safety cuffs around both his wrists and ankles. However, there was no doubt in my mind they weren't for his own safety.
He'd gone on a massive killing spree a few years before I arrived, no doubt earning the seat he sat in. He smiled wickedly when he spoke and when he did it sent chills up my spine. The way he spoke about the people he'd murdered in cold blood was…cold, almost callous. As if he thought they deserved to die.
There was a small smile upon his thin lips as his glossy eyes stared in one direction. The direction of Debby, who shied into her seat at the creepers stare.
This went on for about an hour, switching from patient to patient, story to story until Ms. Sparks finally released us. Well, released the capable. Some patients were so doped up they had their own nurses to attend to them.
Since I had no need for a nurse I left quickly, walking down the hall swiftly to get away from all their pain. Patients, both men and women, young and old, walked the halls. Going back to their rooms or just loitering. Their eyes seemed to linger on me, inviting me in. They made me nervous. All the calmness, the white and the quite murmuring made me want to claw at my ears and flesh.
I knew that wasn't healthy but I couldn't help it. I didn't belong here. I wasn't insane or crazy, I just…just slipped a bit.
My room was the only haven I could escape to since I didn't really like to socialize. I was just here to do my time then I could get out. There were teens here my age but I didn't talk to them. Ages thirteen to fifty seven. I'd checked the first week I was here. Wasn't like there was much else to do. A sixteen year old diagnosed with a mental illness. They thought I was crazy, I wasn't. But who wouldn't go crazy in this loony bin? The screams that sometimes kept you up at night, and the only entertainment being the small barred television in the rec-room that stayed on the old people channel. The teens never got the remote. They didn't care either. Did I mention the white? Everything white and peaceful, there was hardly ever a disturbance and when there was it was quickly resolved.
At least that would've provided some form of…well, entertainment.
As I entered my room I closed the door behind me and lied on my bed. The room was bare with one window, which was of course bared incase I decided to jump, and the bed was bolted to the floor for my own protection. Everything was for my own protection. Nearly baby proof. The blue sheets were the only splash of color in the room.
The sun shone through the clear window. The bars were wide enough where I could fit my arm though and let the window up for some air. That was more of a summer time thing. It was the middle of spring so it was still pretty cool outside and I didn't want to catch a cold.
When I had first gotten here they took all my belongings. My clothes, cell phone, brush and comb. I couldn't even keep my toothbrush and toothpaste. They were probably afraid I'd make a shank out of it and stab myself, or another patient. They kept all personal objects in a cubby and I only got to use my own toothbrush and paste because of my sensitive teeth. And they watched as I brushed. I wasn't sure if that was only a me thing or if they did this for everyone. I was glad that I at least had my own bathroom, though the showers were down the hall.
Three months and I was out. Three months and I could shower alone, could see my friends. Three months and I could sleep through the night without waking to agonizing screams.
Three more months. Just three more months.