Fine Lines (Jardougall)

The Crazy and The Sad

"Good morning, Taylor." A lady said. She was standing outside of my room. She had light brown hair that was tucked strictly into a bun. She smiled warmly at me.

"I'm Doctor Clarke, I'm your tour guide today." She said, pulling out a clipboard from behind her back.

"Hi." I said awkwardly.

"So, first we'll stop at the food court, and eat breakfast. Then, we'll go meet your assigned doctor, and then we'll go to the common-room so you can meet some other patients, and then group therapy will start- I'll stay with you on your first time, then we'll go to the bathrooms where you can shower and etcetera, and then you can go back to the common-room until ten, which is lights out." She talked a mile a-minute. I could barely keep up.

We walked to the 'food court', which honestly looked really normal. There were like six tables. Two were filled up, three were inhabited by only a couple people who were keeping to themselves, and one table only had one person.

The person was a girl who looked my age, maybe younger. She had short blonde hair and pale skin. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt along with a pair of blue jeans. She was gorgeous.

"Who's that?" I asked, referring to the girl alone at the table. Dr. Clarke looked panicked for a fraction of a second, then her calm demeanour came back.

"Jenna Mcdougall." She replied. We were walking towards her table until Dr. Clarke took a sharp turn to one of the other tables. I glanced at Jenna, who looked up and seemed hurt.

Dr. Clarke told me to wait at the table while she got my breakfast. She swiftly walked over to the counter.

"Patient 117 Breakfast." She spoke to the woman over the counter.

I took this time to observe the people around me. There were three others, all scattered around the table.

One was a girl who had blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. She had fair skin and freckles. She had a tiny body and she was reading a magazine.

Another girl had long brown hair that was bleached at the ends, she was seemingly sleeping.

The last one was a guy, sitting directly in front of me; He had greasy black hair and bright green eyes. He was pale, and he was staring directly at me. I started to get a little bit uncomfortable.

"Um..." I started, wondering how to get him to stop. Suddenly, another boy started making his way over. He had shoulder-length brown hair and tanned skin. He looked Hispanic. He sat beside the other boy and took a deep breath.

"Kells, you're freaking her out." He said, sighing.

"Oops." The boy- 'Kells', said. I glanced back and forth between them.

"I'm Vic, this is Kellin. You new?" The Hispanic-looking one, Vic, said.

"Yes, I'm Tay." I said quietly. Vic grinned at me.

"Hi Tay. Kellin's real friendly but he's not used to strangers." He said. I nodded.

Soon, Dr. Clarke came back with my 'breakfast', which was an apple, a granola bar, cucumber slices, and a pile of almonds.

"I see you've met Kellin and Vic." She said, smiling and sitting next to me.

"Hey Larissa. Can we show Tay around?" Vic asked. Dr. Clarke frowned at Vic using her first name, and sighed.

"No, Vic. I'm obligated to be her tour-guide the first day. Tomorrow, you can." She smiled. Vic winked at her.

"Alright, well Kells and I are going to get going to the big room. See you tomorrow Tay?"

"Oh, you'll see her during group. You guys are all in the same block." Dr. Clarke said. Vic nodded.

"Alright, see you later." He said, taking Kellin's arm and pulling him out the door.

After I ate, Dr. Clarke took me down a bunch of hallways with a bunch of office-looking things. We stopped at one that said 'Williams' on the door. Dr. Clarke knocked, and the door swung open.

"Good morning Dr. Williams." She said cheerily. Inside the office was a lady who looked in her mid-twenties who was sitting on one of those spinny office chairs. She had bright red hair and a small figure. She had a bright smile and pale skin.

Welcome, Taylor." She smiled and beckoned me into her office.

"Hi." I mumbled sheepishly.

"Come in."

Dr. Clarke left, and Dr. Williams and I had a really nice conversation. She told me it was fine to call her Hayley instead of Dr. Williams, and that was cool. We talked about how long I would stay, and that it depended on my behaviour and if they thought I was stable enough to leave. She answered most of my questions and said she would see me soon to talk about the more 'heavy' stuff, but didn't tell me exactly when.

After we were done, she called Dr. Clarke back in to take me to group therapy. Apparently it was just a bunch of patients my age who got together and talked about their day, did activities and socialized.

As soon as Dr. Clarke and I walked into the room for group therapy, we both realized something was wrong. There was lots of yelling, and the sounds of cries.

There was the girl, Jenna McDougall from earlier. But she wasn't sitting nicely in a chair, in fact she was being hit with a chair.

The boy I'd met earlier, Kellin, had his foot on her stomach, keeping her down as he repeatedly hit her with a chair.

"Why are you doing this?" She cried, her nose was bleeding and she looked like she was in a lot of pain.

"You fucking know!" He yelled. He was crying too. "Don't act stupid!"

"I don't know! I don't know! I never did anything to you!"

Dr. Clarke ran in and broke up the scene. Jenna's once flawless white shirt was now stained with blood, and she was crying. Dr. Clarke pulled Kellin away. He struggled, and Dr. Clarke pulled out her phone to call for backup. Suddenly, another doctor (I assumed) ran in, gripping his hair.

"I went to the bathroom and thought it would be fine!" He yelled frantically. Dr. Clarke glared.

"You can't ever leave them alone!" She yelled angrily.

Soon, more doctors had come and taken Kellin and Jenna away. I heard someone sigh loudly from beside me.

"He has to snap sometime." I heard Vic say. I glanced at him. He looked like he'd been crying.

"Where will they take him?" I asked.

"ICU. Intensive care." He replied sadly. I guess the ICU wasn't a nice place.

"Why did he hurt her like that?" I asked.

"She repeatedly called him a 'faggot' last week, and then a couple days ago she told him that he would go to hell. That was the last straw for him. He used to have chronic nightmares about hell, thanks to his homophobic dad always telling him he'd end up there. His nightmares were terrible, he vaguely explained some to me..." He explained, looking sad.

"Why did she seem so scared and confused? It seemed like she really didn't know why he was doing that." I said, glancing back at the remaining patients who were frantic.

"I don't know. This is a mental hospital, after all." He said grimly, before walking out of the room.