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

Insane Doesn't Even Begin to Cover It... Chapter 8

Light. Bright white light is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. Am I in Heaven? Of course not, I don’t deserve to go to heaven.

“Ah, I see you’re finally awake.” The voice comes from somewhere to my left, and I weakly turn my head to look.

The stupid leader person is there, watching me with an unreadable expression.

“My name’s Dr. Michaels. And you are Senna. The crazy girl.” He walks closer to my line of vision and I glare at him as best as I can.

I don’t like being in a weak position when around people, it makes me feel like they can hurt me and I wouldn’t be able to do anything.

“I bet you’re wondering where you are. You’re in the top examining room in this building. You had a bad seizure, you died for a few seconds, but you had gotten your medicine in time.” He says calmly.

Good lord why are all these people calm all the freaking time?

“I’m going to let you go now, but you have to promise you won’t run away.” He looks at me sternly, and I think about it for a minute.

Oral promises won’t work for me. So, I’ll pretend.

Nodding my head innocently, I wait patiently as he unlocks the straps that were on my wrists and ankles. As soon as he’s done, I sit up and swing my legs off of the table, dropping onto the floor.

Running around the table and to the door, I swing it open and dart down the hall, his aggravated yell following after me. Everyone should know that I don’t make promises. I can’t talk, after all.

Going to the only place I know I’ll be safe, I get to Griffin’s office.

“Senna, what’s wrong? I heard you had a bad seizure, but they wouldn’t let us see you!” Dallas says, coming up to me before Griffin or Cade can.

I just walk past him and go to sit on Griffin’s couch, leaning back against the wall. Looking up at them with tears in my eyes, I frown weakly.

Cade gives me a glass of water and I drink it down in seconds, and it makes me feel better. Griffin gets me something to eat, and when he comes back, he takes a seat in front of me.

“You don’t like it here do you?” He asks softly, and the expression on my face must have answered him. “There’s not much I can do about you getting out of here. You’re still listed as clinically insane. And I can’t change that until you talk and allow people to touch you. I’ve also heard that you…hurt yourself sometimes. Or you lash out at people.” He looks at me with a cautious gaze. “You hospitalized people haven’t you Senna? You’ve attacked them? Killed?” He whispers. Cade and Dallas look shocked when I look away, down at my hands. I know they take that as a yes, and it’s true.

I have hurt people. I’ve lashed out and thrown things so hard that they break bones. And I’ve hurt myself. Whether it’s going on a hunger strike, or digging my nails into my skin until I bleed so much that I could write my name on the wall in big letters, I’ve done it.

It’s not that I want to do that stuff, it’s just an automatic defense mechanism. If someone hurts me, I react by hurting them back. If I think of something I did to hurt someone I loved, or if something happened to make me hate myself, I would hurt myself.

I’m insane. Completely insane. I have no hope, I’m never getting out of this place, never. It’s only a matter of time until someone takes the time to dispose of me, or if I do it myself.

This institution is going to be my home for a long, long time.

“Come on, lets get you back to your room.” Dallas says in a soft voice and takes me up to my room, not touching me a single time. As he closes the door behind me, I crawl into the corner and rock back and forth, my knees up against my chest.

I’m crazy, I’m crazy, I’m crazy, I’m crazy.

From ‘i’m crazy’ my thoughts go to:

I’m horrible, I’m horrible, I’m horrible, I’m horrible

Then:

I’m a murderer, I’m a murderer, I’m a murderer, I’m a murderer

And finally to:

Why the hell wasn’t I killed?