Not Broken, Just Bent

First Sight

A/N Hello i am back and with another chapter! Um, not really too much to say about this one except um, no not really anything important to say.  Also I really have no information to go on about mental facilities besides the other mental hospital au's that I have read, so if anything here is wrong or offensive don't hesitate to let me know (be nice though, my feelings get hurt easily)

Thanks so much for the awesome comments :)

ok enough random babbling here you guys go

Chapter 2

            “Good morning Mr. Watson.” An elderly women said, moving from behind the desk. “I am your new therapist, Mrs. Hudson.” Her tone was friendly, but not overly condescending, like the majority of therapists he had.

            “Hello.” He murmured, shaking her hand when she held hers out.

            “So, Mr. Watson,”

            “It’s John.” He interrupted. She paused, then gave him another smile.

            “Alright John. Anyways, like I was saying you will have your own room here. You’ll follow the schedule, every day we have a morning one on one session, and in the afternoon you’ll be part of group therapy. I looked at my chart, and you’re in my group, which is good because then you won’t have 2 different therapists. I understand that it can be difficult to trust one person, let alone 2.” She smiles again reassuringly. John noticed that she had the trademark smile that all of his doctors had- the one where they tried so hard to make you believe that all your problems will go away with a heart-to-heart and a smile. John tried to believe it but honestly it was all a bunch of bullshit. Mrs. Hudson didn’t seem to be like the rest though, so John figured he would give it more of a shot.

            “Ok.” He nodded.

            “Great. I can have an orderly show you to your room, and at noon you can come down and join us for lunch. Right after that is your group therapy.” Mrs. Hudson said all of that as if he had a choice to the schedule.

            “Alright.” John nodded again. Mrs. Hudson pushed a button on her desk, and a nurse came again, standing by the side of her desk dutifully.

            “Please escort John to room 220B.” She asked. The nurse nodded, and John was led out of the office and down the hallway. It was like any other hospital he had been in, cold linoleum floors, white walls, although in this place, there were bars on the windows of the doors.

            “Nice decoration.” John commented dryly.

            “Some of our patients have tried to commit suicide by breaking the glass and stabbing themselves with it. Others have used it for other means. It’s a necessary precaution.” She rattled off. John rolled his eyes, cause it wasn’t different here at all. She was just another robotic nurse who was going to put him in another room, doing her job of hiding the crazies away from the normal people. He almost pitied her. The rest of the walk was silent, save the sound of their footfalls. Soon enough, they came across his door, and she unlocked it.

            “This is your room; schedule is on your bed. There are clothes in the dresser, enough for 1 week. Clothes are washed every Saturday and you are expected to put your laundry in front of your door every Saturday morning. If not, you will be skipped for that week. Lunch is in 20 minutes, I will stand outside your door until you are ready to leave and escort you to the cafeteria, but you will have to make your own way every other day. If you are late for a meal, we will come find you.” She recited the entire paragraph without taking a breath, and I raised my eyebrow.