Deranged

Chapter Three

The theme song for this book is Heart of Courage by Two Steps from (pardon the language) Hell. Hahaha
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Juvenile Ward, December 26, 2010

Patient: Harold Edward Styles

Age: 16, a minor.

Mental illnesses: Self Harm, Anxiety.

"Harry?" A dainty voice spoke throughout the dark room as the nurse slowly entered through the door. She could hear his quiet whimpers as soon as she called out his name. "Harry, I won't hurt you at all. You just need to take your pills," The nurse quietly whispered once more, afraid that she would scare him again. She heard movement over in his corner as she likes to call it. Every time she walks into his room, he's hiding in the corner, desperately wishing to get out of the crazy ward he was stuck in.

"Come out, Harry. Just for a second so you can take your pills." The nurse knelt down and waited for the boy to crawl out of his darkness. Once he did so, she extended her arms, revealing the pills and a small cup of water in both hands. His shaky and dirty looking hand reached out to grab the pills. As soon as they were in his possession, he immediately flung them across the room before he had knocked the cup out of the nurses hand. He started to back away from her as soon as the lady called in for another nurse.

"You can't do this to me!" He cried out, hitting his back against the grey stone wall. "I've been good! I swear! I don't need this!" He repeated his words, the lie slipping out of his mouth as if it were such a simple task to accomplish.

"This is the sixth time in a row you have yet ignored the pills and caused trouble, Harry. I warned you about this yesterday, didn't I?" His nurse spoke to him so sternly, making sure her words were processing in his head.

"I've been good!" He yelled over and over again, watching as two male nurses walked in, to help strap Harry on his bed. His winced in pain as soon as the two male nurses grabbed a hold of both his cut up wrists. They dragged him over to his neatly untouched bed, lifting him up and throwing him onto it. He continued to scream once they had the ropes wrapped around his wrist and ankles. After the two male nurses left the room without a sound, he turned his head towards the female nurse, curious as to what she would do to him this time.

The tear stains on his cheeks were enough to know he wasn't happy at all. But then again, when was he happy?

The nurse picked up a sharp needle, observing it before walking over to the young boy, sadly chained to his bed. The boy widened his eyes, shaking his head.

"I don't like needles, please!" He begged to her, more tears rushing down his cheeks.

"You've been bad. You showed no improvement in your therapy. So I reckon you stay quiet while I inject this in your arm, got it?" She spat, surprising her own patient from the change of tone in her voice. Nurse Catherine hated it when her patients would misbehave; so going against the rules, she would secretly inject them with a drug that had them asleep faster than turning off a light switch. She'd lie to other nurses, telling them her patient listened to her quite well. The other nurses would play jealousy, but they didn't know the half of it.

"I've been good! No more being bad! Bad is terrible," He mumbled, hoping she'd consider the thought of it, but it wasn't good enough for her ears to hear. He started to squirm under the ropes holding him down. He shook his head, his eyes shut tight as he yelled at the top of his lungs. She injected the needle in his arm, spreading the drug from his arm, to his entire body. She pulled the needle out and watched as the drug started to work.

He was getting sleepier; he could barely keep his eyes open as he slurred and muttered a few words before fully passing out. Nurse Catherine smiled and quickly disposed the needle in the trash bin before she walked out of the room, on her way to brag about how nice her last patient was at following the rules.

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A Mental Asylum, January 3, 2014

Patient: Harold Edward Styles

Age: 20 years old.

Mental illnesses: Alcohol, Drug Abuse

"He won't cooperate!" The new female nurse complained to several other nurses standing in front of her, wanting to know how she had the guts to work with the craziest patient in the entire asylum. "It's as if I were talking to a wall."

"Is he not eating?" One elderly lady spoke up, causing everyones gaze to shift over to her direction.

"No . . . Not up until yesterday, why?" The new nurse furrowed her eyebrows at the lady, truly curious as to what she had to say; maybe she had a solution on how to fix it?

"I used to treat that maniac when he was brought to the asylum. It was after he was caught behind a drug store, murdering a young man while he was drunk," She shook her head in disappointment, continuing on with the story, "He wouldn't talk to me unless he was asking me why he was in this building and not in a jail cell . . . Where he belonged. He's a tough one to handle, but I somehow managed to do so."

"May I ask how?" The nurse nicely responded. The elderly nurse walked over to a cabinet, pulling out a key and unlocking it before picking up a special bottle full of pills. She closed the cabinet and walked over to the new nurse, handing it to her.

"I gave him these pills. It drugs the patient and makes their body grow numb to everything." She whispered in her ear. "But don't tell him that if he asks. Just say it was a new change in his medication."

The new nurse nodded, slightly happy that she would somewhat control Harry who would no longer be so stubborn.

"Oh, I can't wait to give it to him! I will finally get sleep without burns or cuts," She mumbled to herself, turning away from the elderly lady in a rude manner. Walking down the dim lighted hallway, she pulled out the key to Harry's room and unlocked his door. Hearing a groan come from the bed where he was tied down earlier, she closed the door and walked over to him.

"Harry, Guess what?" She whispered, gently. He turned to face his nurse, glaring angrily at her for what she had done earlier when they were tying him down. The long and deep gash on his left cheek was shown to the nurse, causing her inward self to smirk.

"You can go rot in hell!" He yelled, spitting in her face. She flinched before wiping the spit off her forehead, replacing the disgusting look with a fake happy emotion.

"There was a change in your medication and you need to take these pills right now. Doctor Christian's order," She informed him with such a big lie. He was quick to believe her and swallowed two pills. After the pills slid down his throat, his eyes started to droop. It didn't take too long for the drug to work on his body.

"What . . . Whe-"

"Shhh, Harry. Go to sleep," She whispered, petting his curly hair as she kissed his cheek. She was getting a little too close to him, but he couldn't do anything about it. His body was numb, he couldn't feel a thing she did to him, but he was awake and the tears sliding down his cheeks as she crawled on top of him were never ending. She was the reason he had escaped. Her little desperation broke him inside even more.

He never wanted to live life knowing he was abandoned when only a toddler, knowing he was living in a home made for lunatics-hence the two old and commonly used words, Lunatic Asylum-, and most importantly, knowing he was raped during his long stay in the Lunatic Asylum. He was a deranged runaway.

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Hola ! So as I said in the beginning of the chapter, Heart of Courage by Two Steps From Hell is basically the theme song for this book, I guess? Hahaha

But just so you know, they might not strap people in their beds in a Ward (because I'm positive it's only in movies) but this is a fan fiction, a chance to let a writers dream and imagination run wild. It rarely happens in the real world. :)