Insane Doesn't Even Begin to Cover It...

Insane Doesn't Even Begin to Cover It... Chapter 3

When the meds wear off and I come back into consciousness, I realize that I’m still lying on the floor in an awkward position. Stretching out, I feel some bones in my back pop and crack, settling back into place. I stand up and make my way slowly back to my cot, stumbling slightly.

Usually, I take pills for those seizures, or convulsions, but I haven’t had any in a week, and for some reason, the doctors won’t give me any. And they have to know that if they don’t give me my pills I’ll die. Literally. The seizures will get worse until eventually I just go into a coma and die. They wouldn’t want that, right?

I hope.

Sitting back on the edge of my cot, I lie down and brace my back against the wall, folding my legs up under me. There’s really nothing to do in this room, and I can’t listen to music because electronics and things like that aren’t allowed. Whenever someone asks, the answer always revolves around the fact that it would be too easy to make something to hurt yourself or someone else if you had something to make it out of. We aren’t even allowed to have Ipods because you have to use headphones to listen to one, and that would be counted as a safety hazard.

While I’m thinking over all the unfairness of the rules applied at this place, my door opens and someone walks in. Jerking my head up, I stare at them with a questioning gaze. Wordlessly, the doctor who basically runs this place, motions for me to follow him. Getting out of my position on the bed, I follow after him, down the hall and to the stairs.

After going down about 3 flights of stairs, he stops at a door and opens it, leading me into a bare hallway. I can see the doors lining the walls, but I know they’re offices and not sleeping quarters for patients. The doctor takes me to the very last door, and opens it.

He steps in and I step in cautiously after him, examining the room. My eyes immediately land on the 3 people in the room, not including the doctor and myself. They are all examining me like I’m examining them, but I don’t care. Shifting my eyes from them, I analyze the space, taking in all the different photos and medical degrees in frames on the walls, the medical books on the large bookshelf and everything else that occupies the space in this room.

“Um… Senna, we sort of lied to you. That lady before is really the best, but only in this country. This man,” Here he motions to a guy that looks around 20, “Is really the best in the world. And him and his sons are here to get you… better.” The doctor explains, and I glance at him, showing him that I understand.

Not that it’s going to work.

“Well, I’ll just leave you all alone. Senna, you know where your room is, go straight there after your done here.” He says to me sternly and then leaves.

Everything is silent for a while, and it’s just me and those 3 guys, staring at each other.

“Senna, why don’t you come and sit over here.” The older guy in the room says, and motions to a couch against the window on the wall, that’s specifically for patients. It’s like one of those that you see in psychiatrist offices, but well, that’s what this guy is I guess. After sitting down, I look down at the floor, waiting for someone to speak.

“You must be wondering who we are. I’m Griffin Marks, and these are my sons, Dallas Sawyer and Cade Jacobs.” I notice how they don’t have the same last name, and he notices the look on my face. “They’re my adopted sons.” He says, shortly.

No need to get snappy.

“Ok today I thought we’d just get to know each other.” Griffin says, smiling at me encouragingly.

I can’t believe he actually thinks that just because he’s supposedly the best in the world, that I’m going to talk to him. I don’t talk. I just don’t.