FicWad

What happens when you attempt suicide? Sometimes you succeed, other times you end up getting sent to a mental institution. Called Greyman's Institute for the Mentally Ill. Where you're surrounded by nurses and doctors who pretend to be nice and listen to you and all of that mega bullshit. Now, this is coming from me....Do. Not. Attempt. Suicide! Sure, it may seem like the only thing at the time, but when they were taking me away in that goddamn van, I got to thinking that maybe if I hadn't felt so sorry for myself that I had to take my life, maybe I'd be a lot more fucking happy. Stupid hindsight...

I sat, straightjacket and all, in my white room, and waited for Nurse Evans to come get me for group as she did every day. They had the tendency to keep me in the straightjacket because they thought that, if I found anything sharp, I'd be trying to slit my throat again. Though, what they had no idea of was the fact that I had figured out how to undo and redo the sleeves on it. They all thought I was retarded, so....Well, actually, I take that back. Nurse Evans was the only one who knew and was sincerely nice and caring.

"Zia," Nurse Evans said sweetly, as she always did. "Are you ready, honey?"

I stood up with a nod and followed her out. Nurse Myra Evans. She was about five-six, fluffy brown hair pulled into a braid (usually), and she had her big brown eyes covered by a pair of fairly thick glasses. She was the only nurse who wore pants and long sleeve shirts instead of those skanky, slutty, whorish, stereotyped nurses' dresses. She usually talked to me until I fell asleep every night and she would sneak me extra helpings of dessert. She knew everything about me. The only reason? She's my cousin. My first cousin on my dad's side. My dad's brother's daughter. Loved her to death.

"So, your mom is planning on stopping by to see you," Myra said.

"Oh really?" I asked. "Tell her I said thanks but no thanks. It's hers and her boyfriend's fault I was in this situation to begin with."

"She wants to see you, Zia," Myra stated. "She misses you..."

"Right," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "She kicked me out at the age of sixteen and hasn't talked to me for almost ten years. I'm twenty-fucking-five, Myra."

"Yeah, and turning twenty-fucking-/six/ in less than a month," Myra snapped. "Your mom wants to give you a present!"

I sighed and hesitated before asking, "She's not bringing Kevin with her, is she?" quietly.

She shook her head and I nodded. We then entered the group room.

"Oh look," Martin, my sworn enemy, started, "it's Faggo, the emo suicidal asshole."

I glared and waited for Nurse Evans to undo my sleeves so that I could strangle him with them. Though, as I lunged at the blond-haired, brown-eyed asswipe, someone caught me and held me back. Goddamn it, Doctor Wiles. Right now? Really? I growled and jerked away from the strong, young doctor. He had sandy hair that was streaked with little silver bits and brown eyes - just like almost everyone else around that place except for me, being the odd one out. I then sat down in my chair as did everyone else. Only then had I noticed that there was a new girl there. She seemed a bit jittery. Jumpy. She was a bit different, though. She had long, red hair and blue eyes. She was really very pale. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in the chair.

"Who will begin this session?" Doc asked. "Jason, how about you?"

"Nah, I'm good..." Jason Boro, the only Nigerian-American boy there, replied quickly.

"Muhammad?" Doc asked again.

"No. No no no no. No th-th-th-thank you..." Muhammad Massri, the Egyptian one, stuttered (he was in there because he was just kind of off his rocker).

"Sally?"

"Okay, sure," Sally Parks, the southern one, responded. "So, I've been thinking. Maybe...just maybe...I shouldn't have shot at that cashier. Even though he deserved it so bad..."

"Good job, Sally," Doc grinned. "How about you, Zia?"

"Shit, I got nothin'," I said casually.

Myra hit me upside the head after group and scolded me for cursing in front of Doc Wiles. I rubbed the back of my head and then my attention turned to the jumpy girl who was sitting in a chair at the window. I stopped listening to Myra and strode over to her.

"Hi there," I said quietly as I stopped beside her and took a seat on the floor.

"Hi..." she replied.

"What's your name?"

"I'm...um...my name is..." She looked around nervously and then whispered, "My name is Harly Foster..."

"Why you in?" I urged.

"Um...because...uh..." She looked around again. There must have been something bothering her. "My parents w-were ashamed of-of me because I-I believe in-in faeries and-and leprechauns and stu-stuff..."

"What is it that makes you so jumpy, might I ask?"

"They-they're listening..." she replied at a very low, almost inaudible, whisper.

"Who?"

"The Rats..."

"The...Rats?..."

She nodded viciously and then almost jumped out of her chair. She did end up on the floor though. I looked at her and then saw she was out cold. Tranquilized. Doc Brown was going to run tests and shit on her. Doc Brown was a bit off his rocker just like the rest of us. The only difference? He got to use his psychotic ways on us. It was actually unfair. He was one of the original crazies from Greyman. And yet, he got to try to fix /us/? Damn our world inside the institute was really fucked up...

"Zia," Nurse White (one of the chicks that I dated back in high school) called.

Nurse Lillith White, or Lily. She had big, espresso-coloured eyes and long, wavy blond hair. She was one of the trampy-looking nurses. Like I said, Myra was the only one who wore the pants and shit.

"What?" I snapped.

"Your mom's here," she replied with a sneer.

I rolled my eyes, stood, and allowed her to hook my straightjacket again. She led me to the visiting room and sat me at a table. Soon, my mom walked in. She even had brown eyes and brown hair. Was I the only black-haired, green-eyed bastard in the place? I mean, damn!

"Hi, sweetie," she said quietly after the door closed and Lily had left.

I grunted to show I was acknowledging her.

"What are Myra, Lily, and Mitchie doing here?"

"They are working here to keep an eye on me," I replied softly. I didn't want to talk to her. I really didn't.

Nurse Michelle Springer. Short, red hair, coffee bean brown eyes, pasty skin, freaky skinny. She was my best friend all through high school, right up until my best guy friend got her pregnant. Then she shunned the both of us. Now she works at the institute to make sure I stay alive. Same for Lily and Myra. They were the only chicks I could stand...

"Well, I came to wish you a happy birthday, sweetie," she smiled vaguely.

I scoffed and turned my head to the side.

"I'm trying to make this right, Zia!"

"There's nothing you can do," I growled, avoiding her gaze carefully.

"I'm trying, though! Doesn't that matter?"

"No, not really..." I looked at her. "Mom....It was you and Kevin that made this shit happen to me in the first place! You threw me out and haven't talked to me or even looked at me in almost ten fucking years!"

"Watch your mouth!" she gasped.

"No, Mom!" I stood from the table. I would have cut her throat open if I had gotten the chance! "It was because of you and your abusive asshole of a boyfriend that I tried to kill myself! I'm just lucky that Myra had found me right after and called an ambulance!"

She stood slowly and planted the palms of her hands on the table, staring down at the tabletop between them.

"Zia Mitchell Evans..." she started angrily. "I am getting you out of here, but on one condition and that is you treat me like the mother I should have been..."

"Not gonna happen!" I shouted. "I like it-no, I love it here! I actually feel welcome! There are people like me here! I am fucking happy for once in my fucking life!"

"You're happy living in a white room, in a straightjacket, with a bunch of crazy-ass motherfuckers?" Mom yelled harshly.

I narrowed my eyes at her and responded, "Hell yeah, I am! They're a helluva lot better than you and Kevin, that's for sure!"

I walked to the door and had Myra take me back to the Group Room. She unhooked me and I sat in a chair, facing the huge window-wall, and stared out at the world outside the institute....Damn, I missed it, but anything was better than living with my mom or even talking to her....Suddenly, I heard a rather big commotion, so I turned in my seat and saw a black-haired boy with coal-coloured eyes fighting with Lily and Mitchie. I mean, literally kicking and punching. I stood and ran over, grabbing the boy, and wrapping my arms around his neck to where I was holding my sleeves to restrain him.

"N-n-now V-Vilqua, c-calm down," Lily stuttered, moving her hands in a nervous fashion.

"Make him let me go!" the boy cried. Then, he stopped and just cried. "Please make him let me go..."

My jaw dropped a bit and my arms slithered away from his neck. He just fell to his knees, and I suddenly had the urge to do the same and just comfort him....He seemed so messed up and sad...

"Vilqua, sweetie," Lily said quietly, "would you like to room with Zia here? He's in the same boat as you, darling..."

The boy - apparently named Vilqua - looked up at me and hesitantly nodded. Dammit...a roommate...