Fill The Pieces For Me [TomTord Asylum AU]

/1/

《◇Tord's P.O.V◇》

Seven years.

I've seen nothing more than concrete walls that give off a unwelcoming feeling to some, but to me, it was the only home I'd known for a while.

The wood floors beneath my scarred feet would creak every now and then, showing that antique vibe, that the ward I stayed in had been here for a long time.

Several years ago, I went through a deadly disaster, and my right arm was fatally scarred, and I had to get it removed. Now, the only remaining bit of my arm was a small stub, wrapped in a few layers of bandages. My right eye had several bandages covering it as well.

There was a window in my ward, but it was normally too high for me to get to. For being a slightly fit thirty-one year old, sometimes I discard the thought of climbing up to the windowsill. But other times, for example, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I make my way up there and gaze at the night sky.

I was there now, but it was the afternoon. Four seventeen, to be exact. The doctors never put a clock in my ward, so I had to rely on the sun and moon to tell me what time it was. Impressive, right?

Of course not. Nothing I do is impressive.

I don't know how I became like this. All I remember was that in my state, the army threw me out and I was forced to come here. Ever since then, all the doctors have shown me was disgust. Hatred. Shown me I was worthless.

If I was in the real world, they believed I would be a threat. More of one than I was before.

Sure, I talked to myself.

Sure, I engraved things into the walls.

Sure, I spoke strangely, with much more detail than anyone else, and referring to myself as 'we'.

I tried to argue with accepting this boresome and repetitive life, but the other side of me told me to accept it. To stop fighting. I gave in.

My mind had always told me which path to take. I trusted it with my life, so I always listened to it. Voices in my head led me in the direction they wanted, and I accepted it without hesitation.

I looked towards the door in the far side of my small room, only to see it open to reveal one of the doctors. I had never bothered to remember their names, because I knew it would never matter.

"How's your afternoon been?" The doctor asked, not moving from the doorway. I moved my hand to rest on the edge of the windowsill, sighing.

"As miraculously eventful as it has ever been." I responded, dangling my legs while facing the doctor.

"Well, I've got some news." The lab coated man declared quietly, one hand in his pocket. I tilted my head towards him, my lips pressed in a unamused frown.

"We've decided you need to do something everyday other than sit here... talking to yourself." The doctor's voice turned to a whisper with the last words. I continued to eye the man with no interest, hopping down from the window.

"And your plan is?"

"We're sending you to see a therapist."

I looked down. This is new. "We suppose it is alright, however we doubt it will help, mind you." I informed, rubbing the back of my neck.

The doctor nodded slowly, obviously weirded out a bit by my speaking. "Of course. Here," he walked up to me and placed a wired collar-like device around my neck, tying the wire around my wrist. They would give me handcuffs, but since I don't have two hands, it would never really work out well.

I looked back up at the doctor and lightly sighed. The doctor took my shoulder and led me out of the ward.

You may be thinking the therapist's office was outside, in the real world, but frankly, you'd be incorrect. The office was about a floor down from where my ward was located, and it gave off quite a secure feeling to it.

The doctor closed the door behind me and left me in the room, seemingly alone. However I was wrong.

A tall, greyish-brown spikey haired man stood in front of me all of a sudden, me taking note of his void-like eyes. He gave me a smile, obviously trying to comfort me.

I scoffed gently at his attempt, causing him to become a little amused. "I assume you've seen many like me?" He asked.

"We've never had a therapist. The only therapy we've had was electric therapy. That never helped anything. We doubt your attempt will help as well."

"Hm. You'd be surprised to know that I will help you. I'm the negotiating type of therapist. I'm not going to harm you." The therapist explained, glancing down at the object around my neck.

"Allow me," he said as he took off the object, untying the wire around my wrist.

"Thanks," I replied blankly. He shook his head and led me over to a small couch in his office.

He gestured for me to sit down, in which I did.

"What is your title, may we ask?" I looked to the therapist curiously. He showed a face of confusion, then smiled.

"My name is Thomas. But, you can call me Tom." The man in front of me informed, holding out a hand for me to shake. None of the doctors ever shook my hand, let alone make any positive contact towards me. That led to myself being my only company.

I hesitantly grasped his hand, and the therapist shook it gently. He chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Tord." He greeted.

"It is as well of a pleasure to meet you as well, Tom." I replied, feeling a little happier as he pulled his hand away.

He smiled and looked to my stub of an arm. "How did that happen, if you don't mind me asking?" Tom pointed to it and tilted his head.

"It was before we came here... we don't remember the exact incident, but our arm was infected so it had to get removed." I explained casually. Tom patted my shoulder.

"I suppose the other doctors don't show you any kindness, correct?" He asked softly, keeping his hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, knowing the lonely feeling in my chest. I cried for so long when I first got here, so I couldn't potentially cry today. The feeling of sadness most likely forever left my soul.

"Hm.. well, I'm here for you. The things you don't tell them, you can tell me." Tom told me, putting his hands on his lap. I noticed now that he was sitting in a slightly worn down chair.

I smiled for the first time in years. "Thank you, Tom. We appreciate the gesture."

Tom patted my head and let me stand up.

Looking at his watch once, he remorsefully placed the collar on me and the wire around my scarred wrist, gently leading me out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tord. Don't get yourself into too much trouble." He whispered into my ear as he passed me on to a doctor that was waiting outside. I sighed as he closed the door and I was led back to my ward.

The doctor pushed me in and locked the door from the outside, leaving down the hall.

I glanced at the door once before walking over to the wall and gripping the edge of the windowsill. I strained to pull myself up, but soon I did. These kinds of things are tough with only one arm, you know.

I rested my head on the side of the window and held myself up with my arm.

I'll wait another day.

I smiled thinking about the therapist. What a nice man. But I know soon, he'll get annoyed at me, and leave like the others.

That's how it always ends, in my treacherous world.

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