Are You Afraid Of The Dark

MORGAN'S POV

We began to hit the country.

The town I was expecting to spend my summer in was slipping away and I had no control of holding on it.

"I don't need to be here I'm getting better". I plead out to my parents.

"Well, they will help you get better faster". My parents reply.

I stare down to the profile of myself sitting on my lap.

Morgan Cassidy

Age: Seventeen.

Illness: Depression, Anxiety, Anorexia.

Location: Cheshire England.

My ID photo also sat up in the right-hand corner.

I sighed.

I didn't understand why I was being sent to a Mental institution.

I understood maybe why I could go and get some therapy or go to a doctor.

But I didn't understand why my parents were sending me here.

I wasn't mental.

I didn't see things or act insane.

I was fairly normal despite the fact that there was always a voice in the back of my head whispering out things to me.

Like, don't eat that Morgan.

Or Morgan you should die.

But other than that I was normal.

I went to high school.

Had friends, a fairly normal family.

My illness was much like Cancer.

Treat it right and ill be okay.

But sending me away somewhere wouldn't fix a thing.

We pull up to the dull building.

It read the text Cheshire Help institution.

Which we all knew really meant Mental people come here.

"I can't believe you're really doing this to me". I spit out.

"We're not doing this to you were doing it for you". My mother says.

I ignore her and continue to stare at the lifeless building.

My parents step out carrying one of my bags beside them.

I follow closely behind.

The place had quite strict security.

Two men stood either side the doors.

They had guns sitting in their pockets.

I bite down on my bottom lip.

That sort of frightened me.

It made me think about what kind of people were staying here.

I walk through the doors.

It was cold.

Almost too cold.

"Whys it so cold in here". I quietly say.

"Some of the patients can't handle the heat so it has to be cold". A man says.

I look in front of me.

A boy only a few years older than me was standing behind a desk.

It looked as though he worked here.