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“Everyone, quiet down now!” Julie announces.

Everyone in the room stops talking and sits down in the circle of chairs that have been placed in the room. It’s my first group therapy session. I haven’t been looking forward to it. If I’m about to be forced to talk about everything, these people have another thing coming. I wouldn’t mind being injected again. Maybe with something that would knock me out even longer. Or forever, maybe…But I can't. I have to think of Gerard.

I look around at the faces of the people who are sitting in the circle with me. There can’t be more than five or six people in this group. One of which is the wink guy. Oh, joy of joys. He’s sitting exactly opposite to me in the small circle. While the wink guy looks over at me smirks every five seconds, I scan the faces over the rest of our small group. The same two girls and same guy I’d seen in the cafeteria last night are sitting beside the wink guy. There’s only one person I haven’t seen yet. She’s very thin, pale with hazel eyes. She also has long black hair that falls just below her chest. While the others chatted to each other, her eyes were fixated on a wall. There wasn’t anything on the wall, but she just stared at it. Weird…

Anyway, Julie, our group leader, which makes us sound like a bunch of happy campers, is getting everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone. We have a new member of our group with us today. His name is Mikey.” she gestures towards me and everyone’s eyes follow. I feel myself blush. Awe, crap. I hear only one person say, “Hi, Mikey.” in a really weird tone. I look up and the wink guy is smirking at me again. Brilliant.

“Right, well, everyone, let’s just go around the circle and tell Mikey your name’s so he knows who you are.”

It starts with the blue haired girl. “I’m Georgia.” she whispers, looking at her feet.

Then the blonde girl. “Emma.”

Then the bald guy with the scars. “Roger.”

Then the wink guy. “Hi, Mikey. I’m Frank.”

So, he has a name. Frank. Suits him. I give him a small smile. He’s the only one who addressed me with more than just his name, after all…But I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing. I look over to the girl with the long black hair, thinking she’s going to say something. She says nothing. She only stares at the wall some more.

“That’s Patience.” Frank tells me, grinning. “She doesn’t talk.”

“Frank. That’s enough, thank you.” Julie warns. Frank giggles and starts swinging his feet on the chair.

What a nutcase.

“Okay, now that we all know each other, let’s continue. How are we all today?”

“…I…um…” Emma stutters.

“Yes, Emma?” Julie encourages.

“I-I wanna g-go home…” she whispers, staring at the floor.

“We all do.” Frank points out in an annoyed tone of voice.

“Frank, I won’t warn you again. Now, Emma,” Julie starts. “Remember what we told you?”

Emma nods her head. “I can’t go until I-I stop g-getting scared…when s-someone touches m-me.”

I figure she must’ve been through some sort of traumatic event to be so nervous like this all the time. That must suck.

“That’s right, sweetie.” Julie smiles warmly at her. “But I betcha that you’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s right. Fill us all with false hope.” Frank butts in.

Someone’s a rude little prick. Emma looks at him with a hurt look stretched over her face.

“Frank! Don’t make me get Ryan, again…” Julie warns.

Frank rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair with a “Hmph!”. So far, I’m assuming he must think he’s six years old or something, because that’s certainly how he’s acting. I wonder who this Ryan guy is. From the shit Frank’s pulling right now, probably another doctor with a needle ready to stab into him.

After all the introductions and whatnot, Julie continues to ask us how we are and no one really says much. Those who do speak are given stupid, false hope and shitty advice. I must admit, Frank was right in saying Julie did that. He had a sane thought. Amazing.

When the hour of group therapy is finally over, we’re allowed to leave and keep ourselves busy for a while. However, it sucks for me because half an hour after group therapy, I have my one on one therapy with Mr. Misfit. I decide to call him that because his actual name is from a song. I’m not entirely sure how to spend this half an hour, so I decide to go to the TV room for a while. Once again, not many people are in there. I don’t see much to do, so I just take a seat in the corner of the room and think for a while.

Most of my thoughts are about Gerard. He looked almost as torn up as me when he left. So did my mum, I guess. I’m not sure about my dad, though. He sounded as though he didn’t care that much. It was more how he said things than what he actually said. Anyway, I really fucking miss Gerard. I can’t stop thinking about how much I let him down. It’s what got me into this whole mess in the first place. I’m stuck in some fucking institute with crazy people all because I broke one promise. A promise that meant the world to Gerard. Too bad people can see me, right now. I really need to cry.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when someone taps my shoulder.

I look up. Who else is it, but Frank?

“Hi.” he says to me, smiling.

“Hello.” I reply quietly, staring at my shoes.

“So, you’re new here, huh?” he asks as he takes a sit next to me.

I start to fiddle with my fingers uncomfortably. “Yep.”

“Cool…Look, just so you know, I’m not the insane little prick you saw at the group meeting.”

I look up at him. He’s staring at me with a calm, friendly look on his face. “Oh, really?” I ask, not really interested. Of course he’s insane. Why else would he be here?

“Yeah. I only do that shit to get on their nerves. No one believes a thing I say around here. So, I just piss ‘em off. Everyone else knows I do it, too, but I‘m pretty sure they all hate me and don‘t really care.”

I wonder why. But doing shit to get on their nerves? This confuses me a little. “Won’t that make matters worse?” I ask. “Why not just go along with their orders and advice, even if you’re faking it, and get out of here?”

Frank smiles sadly and shakes his head. “I did, but that made me worse. They think I’m completely mental, so they gave me meds. But I didn’t need them, so I got sick and it did stuff to my head, sometimes. Even if I got out of here, I‘d have no where to go.”

I’m taken back a little. I’m not used to being surrounded by people with problems like these. Let alone, get involved in random deep and meaningful conversations with them. Maybe they talked about their problems with each other more than the doctors. Well, I suppose that all depends on what’s wrong with each of them. Which brings me to ask him, “Well, why were you brought here?”

He only gives a small laugh and stands up. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” he tells me, then he turns and walks out of the room.

How odd. I guess some of what he said is true. When he spoke to me, it wasn’t that weird annoying guy I saw in group therapy. He was, well, normal. I actually didn’t notice anything that insane about him. I look at the lock. Time for one on one therapy with Mr. Misfit. Off I go.

When I walk into his office, I notice how cold it is. I don’t think these people have ever heard of a heater. Or maybe even turning the air-conditioning down. It’s a gloomy sort of office. Hardly seems fit to talk about ways of being happy in it. Oh, well. I sit down on the brown leather chair across from Mr. Misfit who is sitting across from me in his rolly chair. I’m jealous…What? I want a rolly chair!

“So, Mikey, tell me about yourself.” he says to me.

That just pisses me off. I’m not here to become besties with him. “There’s not much to know.” I mumble.

“Sure there is. What do you like to do?”

“You already know. It’s why I’m here.” I snap. I’m not in the mood to play nice.

He frowns at me. “That’s not what I meant, Mikey. What do you like to do, as in, hobbies?”

I roll my eyes. This is some bullshit. “Music, I guess.”

“You play?”

“Bass guitar.”

“That’s nice.”

“No, it’s horrible.” I roll my eyes again.

“It is?”

“Sarcasm is a foreign language to you.”

“And apparently using manners is foreign to you?”

“Maybe.” I smirk. Now, I see why Frank must do shit to annoy this people. This is fun. I’ve never the bad-ass type, but I could get used to this.

“Well, let’s get right into it, then. Why did you do what you did to yourself?” he pushes on. Maybe he’s not into pointless bullshit either.

“Because I did.” I’m not gonna tell him. He can go fuck himself.

“Hardly a substantial answer, Mikey.”

“I don’t have to give you one.”

“No, no you don’t, but I recommend you do. I’m here to help you.”

I scoff. “I didn’t choose to come here for you to help me. I was forced because no one believed me or gave me a chance and no one listened to me.” My eyes start to water involuntarily, “Not even my own fucking brother.”

Mr. Misfit nods. “Do you miss him?”

“Of course I fucking miss him!” I hiss.

“Hmm. And your parents?”

“A little…I guess.” I calm down a bit. In fact, I’m saddened. I remember how my father seemed to not care at all…

“You guess?”

“Yes, I guess. My mom, sure. My dad…I don’t know.”

“What makes you unsure?”

“The fact that he hardly gave a fuck when he forced me here. It was his fucking idea in the first place.”

“I see…And how-”

“If you’re about to ask me how it makes me feel, you’ll get a roundhouse kick to the face.”

He looks a little nervous for a second before maintaining his calm facial expression. “Okay, then. I won’t ask you how you feel about that, then…But how are you feeling, right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“I…I just want to be back at home with my brother. I want none of this to have ever of happened.”

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Gerard.”

“Have you and Gerard always been close?”

“Yes. We told each other everything. Well…I told him everything except for all that other shit. But I would have preferred it if this whole thing remained a secret. I’d be a hell of a lot happier right now, if it had.”

“Would you really?”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” I ask, avoiding his eyes.

“Do you honestly think that if you continued to do those things to yourself, you’d be happy? If anything, they‘d make you unhappy, wouldn‘t they?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t know and I don’t fucking care! I just wanna go home.”

“Well, I’m afraid that isn’t an option until you get better.”

“I’m not mental, okay? I just have a bad habit and needed a little help quitting it. Seriously, why they sent me here is beyond me!”

“Being here doesn’t mean you’re mental, Mikey.”

I scoff and roll my eyes.

He gives me a stern look and continues. “It just means that you need some help to recover from this downward spiral you’ve fallen into.”

Downward spiral. I’ve never thought of it like that before. How fucking depressing.

The rest of the session consists of pointless questions and my smartass answers. I don’t think Mr. Misfit is very impressed with me. Considering when he first saw me, I was shy, timid Mikey, thinking that it was just a big joke and that I’d be going home in a matter of hours. But, no, of course, not. I’m stuck here.

I return to my room and collapse onto my bed. I feel, well, miserable. Depressed, if you will. I guess that’s what most people would call my emotional state of being right now. I miss Gerard. I miss being happy. I miss everything. These thoughts replay through my mind as I cry with my head buried in my pillow. After a while, I suck it up. I look up at the clock and notice I have a whole hour before dinner.

Oh, yay.

Oh, happy yay.

I stand up, grab my razor from it’s hiding place at the bottom, back corner of my wardrobe and shove it in my pocket. I check for anyone around. There’s no one. Hmm, it seems fate is smiling upon me today. Aside from the stupid fucking therapy. Perhaps this will make up for it. I walk quickly to the bathrooms and make sure no one is there before I lock myself in a cubicle. Shoving my fingers to the back of my throat, I finally gag up the contents of my stomach. Blood slowly spills from the gash I leave on my skin.

Leaning against the wall of the cubicle, I sigh and smile a satisfied smile. Lost in my thoughts, a noise snaps me out of it. Confused, I clean up my cut and flush away the evidence before standing up and- I hear footsteps.

Oh, shit. Someone heard me. Shit.

I hesitantly open the door. It’s only halfway open when I hear the footsteps quicken and the door flies open and shut so quickly I barely see it. Panic fills my chest. Could that have been a nurse? Oh, shit. Even if it wasn’t, if it was a patient, they could easily tell one of the doctors…Shit!

I am such an idiot.

I walk out of the cubicle and glance around the bathroom once more, just double checking I was alone.

“Fuck…” I whisper to myself, half collapsing onto the sink. I look into the mirror and cringe. My face is pale, I have practically purple bags under my eyes, my glasses are off balance, my lips are almost white. I look disgustingly hideous. I groan in frustration at my stupid reflection and take off my glasses, so I can quickly splash some water over my face. It feels nice. For some reason, I tend to sweat a bit when I’m doing that stuff.

I still have some time before dinner so I wonder around to where everyone else is. The TV room, of course. I wander in and walk towards the back again where I sit and watch everyone else. There’s a lot of different behavior going around. I see Emma sitting by herself, trembling, it looks like. Patience sits next to her, staring at a wall again. Georgia and Roger are sitting on the faded couch watching the TV which has very bad signal. Frank is talking to another girl who looks sad. She’s nodding in response to whatever it is he’s saying and when she looks up at him, he gives her a friendly smile. He almost seemed sane for second, but I suddenly remember where we are. There must something completely wrong with Frank. Maybe he has drastic mood swings and is a complete nutcase one second, then really friendly the next? Bi-polar? I don’t know, Frank just seemed kinda alright earlier on.

Suddenly, I realize he’s staring at me again. I stare back too. Except, this time, he doesn’t wink. He doesn’t even smile. Frank stares at me with…is that concern, I detect? It looks like it. Odd. It’s probably go to do with whatever he’s talking to the sad looking girl about. He stares for just a second more and turns back to the girl.

Frowning slightly, I turn to look around the rest of the room. There are two or three nurses walking around keeping an eye on everyone. It makes me wonder why they don’t bother to check on anyone who leaves the room. Geeze, they’re almost as stupid as I am. I feel a little saddened when I think about how I have no idea when I’ll be getting out of here. What’s going to happen to me? Oh, god, I wish I knew.

Before too long, we’re all beckoned to the cafeteria to eat. As I walk in through the doors, someone grabs my shoulder. I flinch a little and turn around.

“Hey.” Frank smiles at me.

“Hi.” I nod, turning to walk away, but he stops me.

“Look, uh, you were sitting alone last time, so, I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with me and some of the others.” he gestures towards the table he, Emma, Roger and Georgia are sitting.

I take a moment to think. He seems nice, but I’m not in the mood for making friends, right now. “Thanks,” I whisper “But…I just want to be alone for now, if that’s okay.”

Frank nods at me and smiles. “No problem.” he says before turning and walking over to the table.

I give a small smile after him and go to eat the food I’ll be throwing back up soon enough.

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