Status: Working on it.
Nightmare.
Chapter Two - Not Insane.
I’m not mad. I swear, I’m not. I really am not insane. They take me here and make me out to be a person with a problem, who, in the mind is like a helpless child without any sense. They’ve made me out to be something I’m not. This is a fuckin’ nightmare. This place. Everything. The beds aren’t even as comfortable as they appear in films. They creek louder than they do in films too, but maybe that’s because I jumped on them a bit more than the recommended amount. It has been two weeks since I came here and they’ve only let me shower once. According to them, I cannot be trusted with water without being supervised. It’s against my rights to be watched while taking a shower isn’t it? It has to be! Even my FICTION tattoo looks dirty; the colors are bland and not vibrant as they should be. That just goes to show how dirty it is in here.
---
Jimmy glanced down at the dust and dirt covered floorboards. He wiggled his toes over a crack between two boards, feeling the draft rise up from it. You’d think they’d fix this by now, he thought. He shivered lightly in his white gown and lay back on the iron bed. The old, tattered mattress caved in, in the middle due to Jimmy’s weight on top of it - not that he was heavy.
A member of staff stuck their head through the door. “Is there anything I can get for you, sir? Lights go out in 10 minutes,” they said with a weak, sympathetic smile on their face.
“Get me out of here - that’s all I want,” Jimmy told them quickly. He lay his hands behind his head and stared into the high ceiling above him.
The member of staff drew in a breath. “I’m afraid I can’t do that sir.”
“Well, get the fuck out my room.” Jimmy turned himself onto his side, to face the white, stone cold wall. He curled himself into a ball and stared into nothingness. Realising that he was not wanting anything, Tricia, the member of staff exited his room without another word. Jimmy breathed so lightly that it did not even echo nor did wisps of warm, smoke-like air escape his mouth.
Jimmy continued to lie in this way for most of the night without a fidget. He was trying to come up with a plan to escape from this hell and get back out to the open. Where the air was fresh and more importantly, where he could have a shower as many times as he desired without someone watching him.
The bell for breakfast seemed to ring as soon as Jimmy drifted off to sleep. He threw himself onto his feet and glanced at the wire bars that covered his window, and then walked slowly to his door. Most were leaving their rooms, some were too dangerous to leave their rooms and some were already in the cafeteria.
A man with a cloudy eye and a bucktooth bumped into Jimmy suddenly. “Watch where you are goin’, would ya?” Jimmy muttered to him as politely as he could. The man gazed at him, then nodded.
“My name’s Damian, by t-the way,” the man stuttered. Jimmy looked at him and laughed slightly.
“And mine’s Jesus. Pleased to meet you Damian, but I want to get some food.”
Damian stopped walking and stared blankly at Jimmy. “Are you my father?”
Sharply, Jimmy turned around. He pointed from Damian and himself several times. “Me? Your father? You’ve got to be kidding me? This place is full of nutters.” He continued to walk to the cafeteria slapping his thigh with laughter. Why the hell am I here? I’m not like ‘em, he thought to himself. He was right, he was not like them. Yet.
Jimmy grabbed a tray and joined the queue to get some breakfast. On the menu today was sludge, as per usual but they tried to pass it off as porridge. A cup of cold tea and mushy sludge, not exactly a healthy meal is it? The patients were not allowed hot tea in case they threw it over one and other.
“I’d throw it over the staff, not the other patients,” Jimmy mumbled.
The chef looked at him oddly then continued to plop sludge onto people’s plates. Jimmy looked across the long hall for a place to sit. Why did they need such a big cafeteria when there was hardly anyone here? The place was more than half-empty.
Sitting down at an empty table, Jimmy then dug his spoon into his so-called breakfast and ate it slowly with a disgusted look on his face. “One mouthful at a time, Sullivan, one disgusting mouthful at a fuckin’ time,” he said unpleasantly, while his mouth was full.
From nowhere a ball of this brown sludge hit him right in the face. And that was the start of it.
---
Jimmy glanced down at the dust and dirt covered floorboards. He wiggled his toes over a crack between two boards, feeling the draft rise up from it. You’d think they’d fix this by now, he thought. He shivered lightly in his white gown and lay back on the iron bed. The old, tattered mattress caved in, in the middle due to Jimmy’s weight on top of it - not that he was heavy.
A member of staff stuck their head through the door. “Is there anything I can get for you, sir? Lights go out in 10 minutes,” they said with a weak, sympathetic smile on their face.
“Get me out of here - that’s all I want,” Jimmy told them quickly. He lay his hands behind his head and stared into the high ceiling above him.
The member of staff drew in a breath. “I’m afraid I can’t do that sir.”
“Well, get the fuck out my room.” Jimmy turned himself onto his side, to face the white, stone cold wall. He curled himself into a ball and stared into nothingness. Realising that he was not wanting anything, Tricia, the member of staff exited his room without another word. Jimmy breathed so lightly that it did not even echo nor did wisps of warm, smoke-like air escape his mouth.
Jimmy continued to lie in this way for most of the night without a fidget. He was trying to come up with a plan to escape from this hell and get back out to the open. Where the air was fresh and more importantly, where he could have a shower as many times as he desired without someone watching him.
The bell for breakfast seemed to ring as soon as Jimmy drifted off to sleep. He threw himself onto his feet and glanced at the wire bars that covered his window, and then walked slowly to his door. Most were leaving their rooms, some were too dangerous to leave their rooms and some were already in the cafeteria.
A man with a cloudy eye and a bucktooth bumped into Jimmy suddenly. “Watch where you are goin’, would ya?” Jimmy muttered to him as politely as he could. The man gazed at him, then nodded.
“My name’s Damian, by t-the way,” the man stuttered. Jimmy looked at him and laughed slightly.
“And mine’s Jesus. Pleased to meet you Damian, but I want to get some food.”
Damian stopped walking and stared blankly at Jimmy. “Are you my father?”
Sharply, Jimmy turned around. He pointed from Damian and himself several times. “Me? Your father? You’ve got to be kidding me? This place is full of nutters.” He continued to walk to the cafeteria slapping his thigh with laughter. Why the hell am I here? I’m not like ‘em, he thought to himself. He was right, he was not like them. Yet.
Jimmy grabbed a tray and joined the queue to get some breakfast. On the menu today was sludge, as per usual but they tried to pass it off as porridge. A cup of cold tea and mushy sludge, not exactly a healthy meal is it? The patients were not allowed hot tea in case they threw it over one and other.
“I’d throw it over the staff, not the other patients,” Jimmy mumbled.
The chef looked at him oddly then continued to plop sludge onto people’s plates. Jimmy looked across the long hall for a place to sit. Why did they need such a big cafeteria when there was hardly anyone here? The place was more than half-empty.
Sitting down at an empty table, Jimmy then dug his spoon into his so-called breakfast and ate it slowly with a disgusted look on his face. “One mouthful at a time, Sullivan, one disgusting mouthful at a fuckin’ time,” he said unpleasantly, while his mouth was full.
From nowhere a ball of this brown sludge hit him right in the face. And that was the start of it.