Damned.

"We believe, Ezekiel, that you are suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder, or Dependant Personality Disorder."

Zeke stared at his therapist with an "are-you-kidding-me?" look. "Let's do this all over the fuck again." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

Dr. De Clercq raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Zeke sighed. "When I was a kid they said the exact same fucking thing," he snapped, "I got the treatment and I did well, and yet here I fucking am."

The doctor tensed up and touched the phone attached to her pocket. It was clear she would be ready to call on some nurses to come and get him the moment he acted out of line; he didn't see how any of that could help his so-called condition.

"Well, Zeke, I would advise you calm down before I am forced to call in some nurses."

He rolled his eyes once again. "Since I've been here I've had a total of six shots when I got a little mad; you guys seem to believe that pumping us with drugs when we got our 'feelings' out is the best way to treat us; why don't you just put us all in comas and hope we get straightened out that way?"

"We're trying to help our patients here, Zeke -"

"Non, vous n'êtes pas; ce sont des conneries. Vas te faire enculé!" Zeke shouted, feeling his blood boil through his veins.

In a matter of moments a female and male nurse were in the room; the woman injected another dosage of tranquilizer to Zeke and the man "helped" him up and they walked him out of the room.

"What is wrong with you fuckers?" The male nurse murmured darkly.

Zeke didn't say anything; he wanted to, badly, but he knew it'd be poor judgement on his part. When he was, quite literally, thrown back into his bed the nurses gave him a disgusted look before leaving.

He laid there for a few minutes, waiting for the effect of the drugs to end. Since he had started treatment, it seemed like all he'd been was drugged up.

As far as he could see, not too many others were making progress either.

One of the girls from his group therapy, Hevana, had an episode the previous night. It was practically all they talked about during group, and in the cafeteria people spoke about it.

As odd as it seemed, he felt like he could relate to her. She held onto her father like he did with Amy. He understood she actually "saw" her father, but the concept, he believed, was similar. He felt bad for her.

When Zeke finally sat up and looked around the room, he was a little surprised to see Jakob there. The man could be silent when he wanted to be. And, as Zeke had learned, he could also scream in his sleep from his nightmares. It was freaky.

"Hello," Zeke said quietly.

"Hello," Jakob replied. "Out of line again?" He added.

Zeke smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. I went off on Clercq in French because they think I have the same thing from when I was younger. I was just frustrated."

Jake nodded. "Hang in there, you'll make it."

Zeke smiled. "Thanks. How's your treatment going?"

Jakob shrugged, but that's all Zeke needed. In all honesty, he wasn't in the mood for a chat, but he didn't want to seem like an ass to his roommate.

"Did you hear about the man who got released?" Jakob asked.

Zeke glanced his way and shook his head. He heard rumors, but he wasn't one to believe anything people said. Humans are liars. "No, not really."

"Yeah, somebody got released. I can't imagine how, but it's really good for them."

Zeke nodded. "Yeah; apparently it isn't impossible like I have been thinking." He said with a small chuckle. "Then poor Michel got caught with his books. Must suck when you get worse."

Jakob nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but hey, there's not much you can do about it sometimes."

"Yeah. Honestly, I'm ready to start treating this place like a prison and try to find an escape route." Zeke let out a small laugh at the end of his statement, to make it sound as if he were joking. However, he was really starting to consider it. Something seemed off with that guy leaving. Zeke couldn't explain why, it was just his gut feeling.

Well, that and it seemed like everybody here seemed to be getting worse, rather than better.