Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Detox Just to Retox
All he could do in that disgustingly white room is stare at the wall and think quietly to himself. Even Pete needed a break from his mind once in a while. He sighed deeply, letting his head fall back against the white padded wall. His brown eyes searched every single inch of room again just to waste time. He took a breath again and rested his head on his knees. What time is it? Pete had no idea why the guys in white don't trust him with a clock or a watch but he stopped questioning them a long time ago. He learned that it was better to just do what you're told. They left you alone when you do what you're told and Pete really didn't want to call attention to himself.
The door to his room opened and Pete moved his head a bit upward to see Mike, one of the regular guys in white, standing in the doorway. The man in the doorway let out a heavy sigh when he saw Pete in the corner crouched into a ball. He walked toward the patient and squatter down beside him, a tender hand lightly rubbing his back.
"Pete, are you okay?" Pete nodded, his cheeks rubbing against the white polyester of his mandated uniform. "Are you sure?" Mike asked his voice hard and cautious.
His strong tone hid the underlying fear and concern but Pete heard them. Pete had always had a good ear; for music or feelings. He had perfected his skill in his time in the white. It gives him something to do when people talk around him. His skill gives him a sort of edge because he hears what people actually want to say in the words they do say. Pete lifted his head off of his knees and smiled at the worker.
"Yes Mike, I'm fine." Pete surveyed Mike, watching his right eyebrow rise high above his eye, not believing a word Pete said.
Mike rose to his feet, keeping a close eye on Pete. He held out his hand and told him that it's time for his session with Dr.McCully. Pete groaned. He's starting to believe that he'd rather be in his white padded hell all the time than talk to Dr.McCully. Pete just seems to talk to the doctor for his whole two hours without one teeny bit of feedback. A 'you're crazy' or 'not crazy' would suffice. Better yet a 'not insane' stamp on his hand would work.
Pete took Mike's hand and lifted himself to his feet. He followed Mike into the hallway, which was painted a paler version of white. Before this Pete didn't think there were paler shades of white but he also didn't think he would end up in a place like this. Well, at least not at this point of his life. The doors to each room were painted a very dark blue, a stark contrast from the god awful white and Pete took his time taking in the dark color. He only sees it when he goes to see Dr.McCully, goes to the rec room, or when he has visitors. Pete hasn't had a visitor since... Well, he hasn't had a visitor yet.
He can't see the color when he goes to the cafeteria because he's not allowed after what happened. They give him his food in his room. Pete trudged down the hall following Mike's trail. Once they reached the stairs, Mike rested against the hand railing signaling Pete to go first. Pete knows its procedure for the run away attempts from past patients. Every step Pete took down the stairs, Mike was just a step behind him, ready to run and catch. Pete doesn't want to run away. He had nowhere to go if he did.
Pete reached the bottom of the stairs and walked down the hallway. This time he kept his eyes on the white. The doors on this floor were a dark red and that shade of color just triggers something in him. The first time he saw it, anger fueled his blood and session when be entered Dr.McCully's office. Over the next weeks, his anger simmered down to depression. Pete reached the end of the hallway and turned to the left to open Dr.McCully office door. He quickly entered the office, running away from the somehow disturbing color.
The door closed behind him, Mike standing on the right side of the door waiting for his session to be over with. Pete dragged his feet over to the brown leather couch and laid down, his head on the arm rest. "Hello Dr.McCully." a bald chubby man looked up from his papers, his blue eyes squinting underneath his silver wire-rimmed glasses. "Pete." he nodded his acknowledgement and returned to his papers. "What do you want to talk about today?" Pete shrugged, his shoulders sliding against the leather, even though he knew McCully can't see him. One thing popped in the back of his head and seemed to run to the front of his mind.
"Why am I here? What’s the reason why I'm in this place?"
The door to his room opened and Pete moved his head a bit upward to see Mike, one of the regular guys in white, standing in the doorway. The man in the doorway let out a heavy sigh when he saw Pete in the corner crouched into a ball. He walked toward the patient and squatter down beside him, a tender hand lightly rubbing his back.
"Pete, are you okay?" Pete nodded, his cheeks rubbing against the white polyester of his mandated uniform. "Are you sure?" Mike asked his voice hard and cautious.
His strong tone hid the underlying fear and concern but Pete heard them. Pete had always had a good ear; for music or feelings. He had perfected his skill in his time in the white. It gives him something to do when people talk around him. His skill gives him a sort of edge because he hears what people actually want to say in the words they do say. Pete lifted his head off of his knees and smiled at the worker.
"Yes Mike, I'm fine." Pete surveyed Mike, watching his right eyebrow rise high above his eye, not believing a word Pete said.
Mike rose to his feet, keeping a close eye on Pete. He held out his hand and told him that it's time for his session with Dr.McCully. Pete groaned. He's starting to believe that he'd rather be in his white padded hell all the time than talk to Dr.McCully. Pete just seems to talk to the doctor for his whole two hours without one teeny bit of feedback. A 'you're crazy' or 'not crazy' would suffice. Better yet a 'not insane' stamp on his hand would work.
Pete took Mike's hand and lifted himself to his feet. He followed Mike into the hallway, which was painted a paler version of white. Before this Pete didn't think there were paler shades of white but he also didn't think he would end up in a place like this. Well, at least not at this point of his life. The doors to each room were painted a very dark blue, a stark contrast from the god awful white and Pete took his time taking in the dark color. He only sees it when he goes to see Dr.McCully, goes to the rec room, or when he has visitors. Pete hasn't had a visitor since... Well, he hasn't had a visitor yet.
He can't see the color when he goes to the cafeteria because he's not allowed after what happened. They give him his food in his room. Pete trudged down the hall following Mike's trail. Once they reached the stairs, Mike rested against the hand railing signaling Pete to go first. Pete knows its procedure for the run away attempts from past patients. Every step Pete took down the stairs, Mike was just a step behind him, ready to run and catch. Pete doesn't want to run away. He had nowhere to go if he did.
Pete reached the bottom of the stairs and walked down the hallway. This time he kept his eyes on the white. The doors on this floor were a dark red and that shade of color just triggers something in him. The first time he saw it, anger fueled his blood and session when be entered Dr.McCully's office. Over the next weeks, his anger simmered down to depression. Pete reached the end of the hallway and turned to the left to open Dr.McCully office door. He quickly entered the office, running away from the somehow disturbing color.
The door closed behind him, Mike standing on the right side of the door waiting for his session to be over with. Pete dragged his feet over to the brown leather couch and laid down, his head on the arm rest. "Hello Dr.McCully." a bald chubby man looked up from his papers, his blue eyes squinting underneath his silver wire-rimmed glasses. "Pete." he nodded his acknowledgement and returned to his papers. "What do you want to talk about today?" Pete shrugged, his shoulders sliding against the leather, even though he knew McCully can't see him. One thing popped in the back of his head and seemed to run to the front of his mind.
"Why am I here? What’s the reason why I'm in this place?"
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