Therapy

The next hour and a half was spent in the day room. Mr. Anthony turned on the TV to a Spongebob marathon. Left with no other option, Alex watched. Alright, honestly Alex loved this show and apparently Jack did too. His eyes were glued to the screen and at one point he even asked for popcorn. He didn't get any.

At three, they were all sent to their rooms for a half hour. Apparently the doctors thought is was good for patients to have alone time every day to "reflect." Alex spent his time pacing, trying not to lose his mind anymore than he already had.

The next few hours went by uneventfully. They sat in the day room for a while, ate dinner, then back to the day room. But at 7:00, shit hit the wall. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, parents or guardians of all the patients came in for family therapy. Each family was assigned a nurse to meet with and talk about their progress.

Alex and his parents were sitting in his room with nurse Angie. She looked nervous; like a surgeon about to reveal that the patient hadn't survived surgery.

"We've gone over the results from Alex's psychological exams and we've decided on a treatment." She paused, watching Alex cautiously. "We want to get Alex on a combination of a mood stabilizer and a antipsychotic. This should held calm his symptoms."

His parents nodded approvingly then all eyes turned to Alex.

"How does that sound, sweetie?" His mom asked.

Alex shot her a nasty look. She sends him to the fucking nut house and now is trying to act all sweet as if she did nothing wrong.

"It sounds like a bunch of bullshit." Alex said. His mom flinched. "I don't need to take medication because I'm not fucking crazy!"

"No one said you were." His dad tried, putting on a hand on Alex's back.

"Then why am I here?" Alex demanded.

"Because you're sick! Bipolar disorder is a serious disease! You need help."

"Locking me up in this place isn't going to help!"

Alex picked up the closest thing to him, his mom's purse, and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and its contents scattered over the floor.

"Alexander!" His dad barked. Nurse Angie practically lunged for the call box to request security. Meanwhile Alex was fighting against his dad's attempt to restrain him. His mom was crying, begging for Alex to calm down.

Not even twenty seconds later the door opened and two large men in uniform rushed in. They grabbed Alex by both his arms and lifted him off his feet. Alex kicked at the men but it didn't seem to faze them.

"Lemme go, you cock sucking mother fuckers!" Alex screamed. "Fuck you! Fuck you all!"

The men forced Alex onto a gurney and strapped him down. He still struggled. The doctor came running in and in the second time in less than twenty four hours, Alex was sedated.

Alex doesn't remember much after that. As they rolled him out though, he vaguely recalls seeing Jack in the day room, watching him.

"It's ok, Alex. Everything is going to be alright. Just go to sleep."

Alex's eyes got heavy and he slowly slipped out of consciousness.

~~~

Alex woke up sometime later in a bright room. He was laying on the cold floor, his arms bound by a straight jacket. Alex sat up, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. The room was small; maybe six by twelve and the walls were padded with soft mats.

"Hello?" Alex called. His voice had an eerie echo. "Mom? Dad?" No reply.

Alex frowned and scooted backwards so he was against the wall. With his knees bent, he planted his feet firmly on the floor and pushed his body up to a standing position. He stumbled to the door and rammed it with his shoulder.

"Hey! Let me out!" He yelled. Could people not hear him or did they just not care? What if they never let him out? What if he has to stay here forever?

Panicked, Alex whipped around. He started feeling more claustrophobic than before. What the hell was going on? His breathing was getting heavier and heavier and he felt an anxiety attack coming on.

Was the room getting smaller? Yes! Yes, it was!

"Help!" Alex called, pushing against the wall. He struggled to get out of the straight jacket but it was to no avail. "Somebody help! Please!" His eyes stung with tears and his vision was blurring. "I want out of here!"

"Calm down, Alexander." A soothing voice said. Alex looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. Was he hearing things? "We can't help you when you're like this. Help us help you."

"B-But-" The walls were closing in fast. Alex was having a full blown panic attack now. He mercilessly rammed into the wall, trying to stop it from crushing him. It was no use. Alex slammed his head against the mat in one final attempt then collapsed to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to meet his doom. It never came.

When Alex opened his eyes, he was no longer in the room. Instead, he was in his own bed. Well, his bed at the hospital. He shot up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He realized he was no longer bound and calmed some.

It was just a dream. A stupid fucking dream.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief as a nurse entered with Mr. Anthony trailing behind her. It wasn't nurse Angie though. He learned her name was Sarah. As she checked his vitals, Mr. Anthony stood at the edge of the bed.

"That was quite a show you put on, Mr. Gaskarth." He said. Alex just stared at him with a blank expression. He was still a little out of it. "I hope you don't plan on throwing a hissy fit every time you don't get what you want. If so, we're going to have a problem. Alex, we're here to help you but you're going to have to meet us halfway. Help us help you."

Alex felt a chill run through him. That's exactly what the voice in his dream said.

"I know you don't want to be here but we can't release you until we're positive you're better. Do you understand?"

Alex rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless. Mr. Anthony patted him on the leg then left. Alex watched him go with a glare.

He can't go until they think he's better? What does better mean? Normal? What the hell was normal anyways? All Alex knew was that if he didn't get out of here soon, he truly was going to go insane.

He thought back to what Jack said. Something about just telling them what they want to hear. Maybe Jack had a point. Obviously freaking out and breaking stuff isn't working. He should just slap a big ol' smile on his face and pretend like he didn't want to kill everyone there.

"Your vitals are back to norma." Nurse Sarah said, removing the thermometer from Alex's mouth. "I'll let you go back to sleep." She gave him a fake smile and backed out of the room.

Alex sighed and lied back down.

This wasn't going to be easy.