Nightmare.

The officers and the men in white, disinfectant smelling coats arrived early the next morning. Jimmy was not planning on letting them in but they had a warrant so he simply had to. He tried to escape their grip by running up and over all the furniture, grabbing onto the light shades and swinging across the room or simply just running away from them.

“You’ll never catch me, I’m the muffin man!” he yelled in his usual high-pitched voice, continuingly running around.

One appeared from nowhere. Really, just out of nowhere. Jimmy had not seen them coming or even heard their footsteps but they were there standing right in front of him. So close in fact that they were not even blurred. The officer’s arm wrapped around Jimmy’s tattooed neck, he tended to squeeze tighter if Jimmy wriggled.

“Don’t try and move, Sullivan,” the officer spat as he gripped tighter to Jimmy’s neck. “It’s for your own good so stop struggling.”

Jimmy continued to wriggle and attempt getting away from the grips of what he thought of as EVIL. “You, sir, are a fuckin’ bastard!” Jimmy replied. He spat forcefully in the officer’s face. “Eat that you dumbass!”

The officer scowled at him. “I won’t be talked to in that manner. I suggest you buck up your ideas and quick.”

“You can’t arrest me, ‘s against my rights. I didn’t do anythin’ wrong… This time.”

The men in white coats by now had surrounded Jimmy, their beady eyes watching him like a hawk about to catch its prey. “Please, Mr Sullivan. Calm down. We’ll get you the help you need, soon. I promise.”

“AN’ YOU CAN FUCK OFF TOO!” Jimmy yelled as he kicked and punched the men around him. For a split second, he almost got free but they quickly gripped onto him again. “When I rule the world you’ll regret this,” he stated as the men escorted him out to the black van that was sitting outside.

They dipped his head down and threw him into the back seat of the van. The windows were blacked out even from the inside.

Once arriving at the asylum, they dragged Jimmy out of the van and through the large Gothic-style doors of the mid 19th century building. Already it was somewhat haunting. The windows had long, thick and strong bars over them, allowing even less light to get in. The darkness inside was close: as if it could strangle you with its long hands that appeared from the darkest corners. Attached to the older part of the building was the newer hospital. The regular hospital, as some might call it. Where regular patients went every single day. The old, rusted, creepy part was for the insane only.

Jimmy lifted his head and scrambled within the staff’s hands. “This feels like a fuckin’ prison!” he shouted, his words echoed down the corridors bouncing from floorboard to floorboard.

“Please, Mr. Sullivan - calm it.”

“I thought I told you to let me go already? I don’t want to stay here. I don’t need to!” he replied.

One of the staff muttered something under his breath - clearly, he was becoming annoyed. “SULLIVAN, CALM DOWN OR YOU’LL GET LOCKED IN ISOLATION.”

Jimmy nodded at the woman that passed him, with a small glint in his eyes. “What’s up with her?” he whispered.

“She’s got severe anxiety problems, it’s a wonder she’s even out of her room.” Jimmy nodded again to the staff member’s reply.

“Shame that, she looked pretty sweet.”

The staff all snorted. “SWEET? She’s in a mental hospital nobody is sweet.”

Jimmy felt angered by this and kicked the one with the nametag reading: “Harry Stiff” on it in the shin. “Take that, Stiffeh!”