Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Stability
Somewhere in a hospital around 2 hours away from the van that CC is riding in, we enter into a state-run facility. It's fairly large for a mental facility, but still on the small side. It can hold maybe 50 residents when filled to capacity.
In the nurses' station, a nurse with dark skin is just getting off the phone. She looks to be in her mid 40's or so, silver hairs beginning to streak through the dark hair that's held back in a small elastic at the nape of her neck. However, the look in her eyes makes her look much older than that. "Thank you, I'll be lettin' the doctor know that." She says in a heavy Jamaican accent as she hangs up the phone.
She sighs. She doesn't particularly like having to see kids coming through here. Some of them are just bring sent here because of one mistake too many.
She left the nurses station, going to the doctors office. She knocked. There was a moment of pause before a man's voice called, "Come in."
She entered, closing the door quietly behind her. The majority of the room's smallish space was occupied by a massive desk, a monstrosity of wood and steel. Plaques, awards, and certificates covered most of the walls, and the wall behind the desk was lined with metal filing cabinets. All in all, it was a drab, depressing room. The paint color, a faded puce, was just plain disgusting. But more disgusting and drab than the room, was the man sitting behind the desk.
He was obese, and balding. Thin, oily white strands of hair were combed over the rapidly growing bald patch on the center of the top of his head, in a vain effort to make him look like he still had hair. It just made him look like a bad used car salesman. His face was pudgy, and his chin seemed to not exist, receding into his neck. His rather expensive suit just screamed "DOUCHEBAG!" Upon seeing the nurse walk into his office, he snapped, "What?" angrily.
Even after working at this hospital for the past decade or so, under this same asshole with a fancy degree, the nurse still cringed.
"The transport called and said he'd be here in a few hours." She said.
"Fine, go set up room 11 for him." the doctor spat.
"Room 11?" The nurse asked, taken aback for a moment. Room 11 was one for the high risk patients, the ones who would hurt themselves, or someone else, or try to escape. IT wasn't common policy to put new arrivals In there without a good reason.
"Yes, room 11! He's very dangerous, he's delusional, and he's a very angry person!" The doctor yelled, waving his hands around. Privately, the nurse thought that he was the delusional and angry one here, but all the same, she nodded, before leaving the room.
She took everything said in this place with a grain of salt. It seemed that this man's favorite thing to say was that EVERYONE was delusional. In whatever bizarre world he lived in, he was probably the only sane one there. But even so, she wouldn't do anything too far against orders. Besides the fact that this job paid the bills, she wasn't going to just leave these kids to deal wit h him and some of the harsher staff by themselves.
But then again, that was just another fact of life in this place. It was dull, depressing, and boring. There was no escape. Everything here was regulated beyond belief, and most stayed here around a year, if not more. Yet, it was a place that was supposed to 'cure' mentally unstable teens.
In the nurses' station, a nurse with dark skin is just getting off the phone. She looks to be in her mid 40's or so, silver hairs beginning to streak through the dark hair that's held back in a small elastic at the nape of her neck. However, the look in her eyes makes her look much older than that. "Thank you, I'll be lettin' the doctor know that." She says in a heavy Jamaican accent as she hangs up the phone.
She sighs. She doesn't particularly like having to see kids coming through here. Some of them are just bring sent here because of one mistake too many.
She left the nurses station, going to the doctors office. She knocked. There was a moment of pause before a man's voice called, "Come in."
She entered, closing the door quietly behind her. The majority of the room's smallish space was occupied by a massive desk, a monstrosity of wood and steel. Plaques, awards, and certificates covered most of the walls, and the wall behind the desk was lined with metal filing cabinets. All in all, it was a drab, depressing room. The paint color, a faded puce, was just plain disgusting. But more disgusting and drab than the room, was the man sitting behind the desk.
He was obese, and balding. Thin, oily white strands of hair were combed over the rapidly growing bald patch on the center of the top of his head, in a vain effort to make him look like he still had hair. It just made him look like a bad used car salesman. His face was pudgy, and his chin seemed to not exist, receding into his neck. His rather expensive suit just screamed "DOUCHEBAG!" Upon seeing the nurse walk into his office, he snapped, "What?" angrily.
Even after working at this hospital for the past decade or so, under this same asshole with a fancy degree, the nurse still cringed.
"The transport called and said he'd be here in a few hours." She said.
"Fine, go set up room 11 for him." the doctor spat.
"Room 11?" The nurse asked, taken aback for a moment. Room 11 was one for the high risk patients, the ones who would hurt themselves, or someone else, or try to escape. IT wasn't common policy to put new arrivals In there without a good reason.
"Yes, room 11! He's very dangerous, he's delusional, and he's a very angry person!" The doctor yelled, waving his hands around. Privately, the nurse thought that he was the delusional and angry one here, but all the same, she nodded, before leaving the room.
She took everything said in this place with a grain of salt. It seemed that this man's favorite thing to say was that EVERYONE was delusional. In whatever bizarre world he lived in, he was probably the only sane one there. But even so, she wouldn't do anything too far against orders. Besides the fact that this job paid the bills, she wasn't going to just leave these kids to deal wit h him and some of the harsher staff by themselves.
But then again, that was just another fact of life in this place. It was dull, depressing, and boring. There was no escape. Everything here was regulated beyond belief, and most stayed here around a year, if not more. Yet, it was a place that was supposed to 'cure' mentally unstable teens.
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