They Call Me Psycho- Frerard

1. Welcome To Hell

          Gerard's POV

         The guards dragged me down a long hallway. I wildly thrashed and tried to free myself from their intense grip on my arms. "I don't belong here!" I'd shout, because in my mind, I truly thought I didn't belong here. But it didn't matter how hard I tried, they weren't going to be giving in anytime soon.

          As we neared the room they were assigning me to for now, I became calmer. I knew that there was no going back until my time here was over. I feared what was to become of me in here. Would I become crazy? Would I start talking to myself? Would my mind melt away like it does in the movies?

          My thoughts were cut short when we reached a steel door. A nurse unlocked it, and the guards threw me inside. I caught myself before I hit the ground, turning around to get one last look at the guards before they shut the door. I ran to the door, screaming and kicking, begging to be let out. I knew no one would listen, but I continued anyways.

          After about an hour of kicking and screaming, I gave up. I slowly slid down the door to the floor, feeling fresh tears prick my eyes as I curled up into my own little ball. I didn't want to be in here; I didn't belong in here. I wasn't like the people in here. I didn't deserve this torture. How could my parents do this to me? Aren't they supposed to love me?

         Before my mind could wonder too far into itself, the door opened. I perked my head up, thinking maybe they were going to let me out. But much to my dismay, it was only a doctor.

         "Hello Gerard, I'm Dr. Easley, but you can call me Jason. I'm going to be your doctor," the man said. He extended his hand for me to shake. I just stared at his hand and shrugged. He pursed his lips a little.

          "Do you want me to give you a schedule?" he asked. I shrugged again. He read the schedule aloud anyways.

          "Wake time is at 7:00 to 7:30, breakfast is between 8:00 and 9:00, free time is 9:00 to 11:00, meeting with doctors and therapists is 11:00 to 1:30, lunch is 1:30 to 2:30, group therapy is 3:00 to 4:30, recess is 4:30 to 6:00, except for in winter time where it's earlier, dinner is 6:30 to 7:30, and lock up time for sleep is 8:00 to 8:30 p.m," he read aloud. The only thing I could think about throughout the whole schedule is that there is a lot of free time.

          "Any questions?" he asked. I decided now was a good time to be a smart ass.

          "Yeah, I have a question," I said with a smirk planted on my face.

          "If you were going to ask when you're getting out of this hell hole, the answer is never," he answered, smirking in response. I stared at him in surprise. How the hell did he know exactly what I was thinking?

           "I can tell you're wondering, how did I know that? Well the answer is quite simple. You see, your thoughts aren't safe here, and pretty much everyone asks that question when they get here. We've dealt with a lot of smart asses," Dr. Easley explains. "Especially Frank," he muttered under his breath.

           "Who's that?" I asked.

            He shook his head. "No one to worry about now. You're going to be here til tomorrow, and then we'll put you in a room. Until then, I'll come back in an hour for our therapy session." He walks over to me and carefully places his hand on my shoulder. "If you need anything, just ask for me."

             I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. "I don't want your help." He gave me a sympathetic look, and then he turned to leave.

             "Wait!" I shouted after him. He turned to look at me.