Dangerous Minds

A couple paracetamol and a few shots of vodka. Okay, it was more like two boxes of paracetamol and a full bottle of vodka, but that's not the point. I'd finally done it. Everything was going to be okay, peaceful, uncomplicated. Ha, like it's that fucking easy. Killing yourself is never easy. Pop a few pills and drift off? Not likely. The shakes that erupted through my body were unbearable and the headaches made me want to rip my eyes out. I probably would have if I could keep control of my hands. I thought it would be over quickly. Wrong again. I was like that for hours until Jay found me, curled up on my bedroom floor, crying my eyes out. He rang the ambulance. I didn't want to upset him, but I just didn't care any more.

And that's how I ended up in therapy. In a dark green, leather chair, talking to a man with a large ginger moustache and obvious dental hygiene problems. I always thought rich people liked to look after themselves. My mistake. I must say, although he clearly had all the qualifications, judging by the certificates on the walls, he honestly had no idea what he was talking about. He thinks I need some sort of long rest. I suggested I go home to nap, but he told me I'd be better off with some long term rest. He didn't appreciate my joke about overdosing on sleeping pills. That's when he told me about Meadowdale. The second the name left his lips I was in a state of panic. I wasn't crazy. I didn't see people wandering around my house. I was just a bit sad at the moment. I didn't need to go to Meadowdale. I wouldn't go. He couldn't make me.

He could make me.

Two orderlies had to drag me from the car which was parked outside of Meadowdale Mental Hospital. I clung onto the seatbelt, screaming that the doctor was wrong at that I was perfectly fine, just sad. Which was true. God, if you put everyone who was feeling down in an institution there'd be no heavy bands left. This had to be a fucking joke.

Once I had been prised from the car I was escorted up the path to the building. Waiting at the main entrance was a soft faced, elderly woman. I didn't trust her. She was probably a witch. A witch with a cane. She smiled warmly at me, waving for the orderlies to let go of my elbows. The took a step back, dropping me, and she smiled again. "Hello, Sean. My name's Pearl. You'll be living on my ward." I didn't argue with her, by now I knew it was useless, and there was something not right about shouting at an old woman. She walked along with me, leaving the orderlies behind, and lead me to a smaller building. "Here it is. I know this seems big and scary but I promise you'll fit right in. Everyone here is going through the same things and won't judge you." I'll fit right in? With a bunch of crazies? Thanks Pearl. I was surprised when we entered the building, initially because it didn't smell of sick or have psychopaths rubbing shit on the walls, then because it was incredibly quiet. Pearl seemed to pick up on my confusion and gave me another smile. "I think the residents are in the television room sweetheart. You can join them if you like." She patted me on the shoulder then pointed to a door at the end of one of the corridors. "That one's your room honey." After that she was gone.

So... no tour, no explanation? Nope, just off you go Sean. Go mingle with the crazy people. Thank you again, Pearl.

I slowly walked down the corridor, terrified that someone might pounce out at me, waving a knife whilst singing to Celine Dion. A door behind me flung open making me spin around in shock. I had turned just in time to see a tall, slender man being thrown from the door way. He smacked into a door on the opposite side of the corridor and his black and blonde hair fell into his eyes. "STAY OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM, JACK!" An American accent roared from the direction that the teen had been launched from. The door slammed harshly making Jack flinch. He stood up shakily, sniffing as tears began to fall.

I bit my lip nervously. "Hey, are you okay?" Jack snapped his head towards me, burst into tears and sprinted down the corridor wailing. What the actual fuck? I really shouldn't be here. Even more cautiously now, I continued down the corridor, the way that Jack guy had ran off. I eventually cam to two double doors which were slightly ajar. I pulled one open and looked in. Hardly anyone in the room bothered to turn around, which I liked. They were all gathered round the tv, or off in corners of the room, chatting in their groups.

Jack stood up and hopped over to me, grinning like... well, like a mad man. "Hey, my name's Jack. You're the new guy."

"Sean." I forced a smile and shook his hand.

Jack spun on his heels quickly and gathered everyone's attention. "Guys, this is Sean. He's new." I blushed deeply with embarrassment. Oh, why did he have to do that? Jack then grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a small table where two boys where two boys were sat. One had a fuck load of tattoo's all up his neck, I guessed they covered his chest and arms too, but I couldn't see him. The other had slightly wild hair and was fussily faffing around with the previous boys black locks. "This is Oli and Josh." Jack smiled, introducing me.

Josh gave me a grin, then got back to fixing the other boy's hair. Oli was still staring into space and didn't acknowledge me. I would have normally found this rude but since I was in a mad house I let it go. It was probably something to do with his illness. Josh must have been reading my mind because he finally moved his hands away from Oli's head and turned to me. "So, what are you in for?" He asked, folding his arms on the table.

I sighed. "Personality Disorder." That's what the doctor had told me at least. I, personally, thought I had quite a nice personality.

Jack grinned, bouncing up and down. "Oooo! Me too! Which one?"

I shrugged, "My doctor mentioned something about Borderline."

Jack stuck his lip out, then smiled. "That's a shame, we could have had a snap. I'm Histrionic."

I looked at the group confused. I had never heard of Histrionic. Josh was once again reading my mind. "It means he's an attention whore." He winked, earning a scowl off Jack.

"Well at least I'm not a fucking Kleptomaniac!" Jack retorted.

"I am not a Kleptomaniac!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

Oh, fucking fantastic.