Disasterology (perrentes)

chapter 4

The sun valley was good for me, I think. Back then though, I thought it was complete bull shit. I didn't need to be medicated or watched 24 hours a day, 7 days a week but that's just how things worked out.

April 18

"This will be good for you, Michael," my father said as he drove us to my death.

I just continued to glare out the window. Being locked up would definitely be good for me my ass. It turns out Sun Valley was really a looney bin. Vic called them as soon as he left the hospital apparently. Fuck. Sun Valley was four hours away from our boring little town. You had to cross a long bridge that connected Sun Valley to land because it was on a small island, probably so the crazies couldn't escape.

"Michael, did you hear me?" he asked as he glanced back in my direction. I was 17 and he still made me sit in the back seat.

"Yes father, I can hear you clear as fucking day."

"Language! You know lately you've been scaring me, Michael. I don't know what has been up with you but you aren't the same boy you were," he frowned.

"It's Mike, Father," and we didn't talk for the rest of the car trip.

----

Upon arrival we were greeted by an young woman with a bun almost as tight as my mother's and streaked with grey hairs. She had a large smile and bright eyes that made her seem like she was genuinely happy to see me, as if she knew me. Strange.

She led us into the building. There were lots of windows and it was very light and open. There were "hidden" cameras everywhere as well. I was expecting more of an American Horror Story season two kind of vibe. I have to admit though this is so much better than a scary dark building run by nuns that are possessed by the devil. I still wasn't thrilled about staying here for a week or two. The rumors would become horribly out of hand but who cares about what small town, dim witted high schoolers thought. They could all suck a fat one.

Eventually we stopped in front of a big wooden door with a plaque that said 'Gaskarth'. "This will be your counsellor. He'll talk to your dad about how long you'll stay with us and your medication," the woman, who introduced herself as Jenna, smiled before opening the door. She motioned for us to walk in before closing the door behind us.

Most of the furniture in the office was wooden, besides a few love chairs and house plants. Are house plants even considered furniture? Whatever. There was a long, you guessed it, wooden desk with a small man sitting behind it. He looked about thirty or so with his glasses on the tip of his nose and his once slicked back hair completely disheveled in some places. He wore an argyle sweater vest that looked like it was tweed with black slacks and dress shoes.

The man stood up and leaned across the desk with his hand reaching out in form of a hand shake. "You must be the Fuentes', I'm Dr.Gaskarth, Michael Fuentes's specialist."

My father shook his hand and grimaced at the act of physical contact. "I'm Michael's father," he kept a straight face.

Dr.Gaskarth motioned for us to sit down before taking a seat in his chair across the desk. My father reluctantly sat down while I just flopped down lazily earning a scowl from him.

"First I think we should discuss how long your son will be staying and then move on to medication," he shuffled through some papers on his desk.

"As long as possible, he's not stable enough to be out with normal people," Father said. Way to look out for me, dad.

"That's bull shit! I tried to kill myself, not other people!" I protested. Did he even have a heart? What kind of father says that, especially in front of their kid?!