Status: Slash... male on male; don't like it..don't read it
Call Me Crazy
Introduction
Brenton
W-what is this? Wait a minute, what are you doing to me? What are those straps for? Hold up, I can’t move my arms…or my legs. What’s going on here? I-I can’t think straight. Wait… what’s that needle for?! Don’t bring that thing near me!!! Ouch! That hurt! Who are you people? Where’s my family? My parents, my sister; where are they? This can’t be legal. I want my parents. I want to go home.
I feel like the pure white walls are closing in on me. I try to move, but I can’t. My arms and legs are strapped down. The doctor has just injected me with something. What exactly? I have no idea. But it hurt. My arm is burning. My vision is starting to get cloudy. What’s happening to me? How did I get here? How long have I been here? I’m so scared. Wait, she was just sitting here. I know it. Where did she go? I catch glimpse of my sister and turn to her. “Where’s Courtney?”
LeAnne stops dead in her tracks. “Who the hell is Courtney?” she asks. Before I can answer her, my vision goes black.
Kendrick
ENH ENH ENH E- I reach over and slam the snooze button on my alarm. Sometimes, 4 a.m. comes way too early. Correction: not sometimes; always. I sit up in bed and run a hand through my messy hair. I flip on the bedside lamp. While my eyes are struggling to adjust to the light, I get up and stumble to my closet where I drag out my white shirt and white pants. I have three of each. Working at a psychiatric hospital has its perks. I never had to worry about what to wear. Although I have no idea why they picked white of all colors. Almost every day when I get home from work I have to soak my clothes in scalding hot water because of some stain of one sort or another. Usually it was food; sometimes medicine; and the occasional blood stain.
As I was working my exhausted body into my uniform, my phone dings with an e-mail notification. I bend down to tie my shoes I glance at the e-mail. I’m supposed to be getting a new paient… joy. Wonder what this one’s problem is. Usually I get the temperamental teenage girls with eating disorders or that were caught cutting in a desperate cry for attention (hence the blood stains). I scroll down further in the e-mail and they give me the diagnosis. I had to read it twice to make sure the patient was supposed to me in my area. Oh boy…
I pick up my sweater and drag myself out the door. This oughta be fun…
W-what is this? Wait a minute, what are you doing to me? What are those straps for? Hold up, I can’t move my arms…or my legs. What’s going on here? I-I can’t think straight. Wait… what’s that needle for?! Don’t bring that thing near me!!! Ouch! That hurt! Who are you people? Where’s my family? My parents, my sister; where are they? This can’t be legal. I want my parents. I want to go home.
I feel like the pure white walls are closing in on me. I try to move, but I can’t. My arms and legs are strapped down. The doctor has just injected me with something. What exactly? I have no idea. But it hurt. My arm is burning. My vision is starting to get cloudy. What’s happening to me? How did I get here? How long have I been here? I’m so scared. Wait, she was just sitting here. I know it. Where did she go? I catch glimpse of my sister and turn to her. “Where’s Courtney?”
LeAnne stops dead in her tracks. “Who the hell is Courtney?” she asks. Before I can answer her, my vision goes black.
Kendrick
ENH ENH ENH E- I reach over and slam the snooze button on my alarm. Sometimes, 4 a.m. comes way too early. Correction: not sometimes; always. I sit up in bed and run a hand through my messy hair. I flip on the bedside lamp. While my eyes are struggling to adjust to the light, I get up and stumble to my closet where I drag out my white shirt and white pants. I have three of each. Working at a psychiatric hospital has its perks. I never had to worry about what to wear. Although I have no idea why they picked white of all colors. Almost every day when I get home from work I have to soak my clothes in scalding hot water because of some stain of one sort or another. Usually it was food; sometimes medicine; and the occasional blood stain.
As I was working my exhausted body into my uniform, my phone dings with an e-mail notification. I bend down to tie my shoes I glance at the e-mail. I’m supposed to be getting a new paient… joy. Wonder what this one’s problem is. Usually I get the temperamental teenage girls with eating disorders or that were caught cutting in a desperate cry for attention (hence the blood stains). I scroll down further in the e-mail and they give me the diagnosis. I had to read it twice to make sure the patient was supposed to me in my area. Oh boy…
I pick up my sweater and drag myself out the door. This oughta be fun…