Doctor » l.h au

24%

It explains why he cares so much about this place, why he wasn’t freaked out by me. Why he felt bad that I had to eat the disgusting food. Why he never talks about his friends or family.

But why was he in here?

I’m walked down the corridors to the main room for lunch to find a few new faces sat around the room.

I walk to my table in the counter where I find my tray of three day old meat on it, yummy. I slide the plate over to lay my head down on the metal table.

“NO I’M NOT CRAZY!” One of the newer patients yells at a guard before he stabs a needle into her left shoulder. Stupid girl don’t you know that will only make them think you’re even more crazy? Once you’ve been in here awhile you learn some ground rules, give one worded answers and don't make too much eye contact with anyone. And never tell anyone you aren’t crazy, even if you really aren’t.  I learned the hard way.

At the same moment she hits the floor from the injection two other idiots also put on a show for us by following the same procedures as she has just done, screaming “I don’t belong here.” “Don’t touch me.” “I’m not crazy.” Unfortunately they receive the same fate at the red head. One quick stab in the shoulder and they fall to the floor. The worse part of it all is how the guards just laugh to themselves making joke about us. Muttering “Crazy.” The word over the last four months has lost its meaning to me.

“Crazy.” I whisper to myself. What does it mean? I’ve always heard it but never fully understood the meaning behind it. Here its tossed around like candy. You’re crazy if you’re in here and definitely crazy if you work here. The only person who has told me that I wasn’t ‘crazy’ was Luke. Two if you count Doctor Grant but something leads me to believe he doesn’t think I’m totally sane.

   

The large wooden doors open as Luke walks in looking down at a cream colored folder in his hands, as he walks over toward me. He placed the folder on the table causing me to look up at him.

“Doctor Grant asked me to have you look over a few of theses papers.” Luke explains while placing his hands in his skinny jeans pockets.

I reach over to grab the file opening it up to find at least twelve pages inside.

“What is this all for?”

“For your release, and the information about where you will be going and check ups and so on.”

“Check ups?”

“So we know if you’re going to try and kill yourself again and stuff.”

“Way to put it subtle.” I murmur.

“Oh what do you want me to lie Grace?” Luke laughs mimicking me.

“Not like you haven’t already.”

“I've never lied to you.”

“You never told me you were in here once.”

 “You never asked anything about me, you don’t know me.”

“Obviously not.”

“Oh I’m sorry its just not the first think I like to tell people when I meet them, ‘I was in a mental hospital for seven months’ my bad.” He yells sarcastically.

“Well it’s not exactly fair, you knew so much about me and I knew nothing about you!”

“You never fucking asked anything! Sorry I don’t like spilling my life problems to people who don’t even ask.”       

“You act as if I never cared.” I sigh.

“It doesn’t seem as if you ever did.”