"Mr Lynch, look at the camera." A female voice ordered. "Mr Lynch- Mr Lynch, please look at the-"
It wasn't long until the security guard forced my head up, causing me to hit it on the wall. Dad exclaimed.
"Co-operate, punk." He growled, the nurse snapping mugshots of me.
"So these are mugshots, right?"
"Identification photos of you, in case something happens."
"Sorry?" Dad intervened.
"Don't act like you suddenly care." I hissed at him.
"This is for your good, Rocky." He insisted. "You killed your brother-"
"I didn't kill Ross!" I shouted and he shook his head, focusing his eyes on the tiles on the ground.
I was stripped of everything I could apparently use to kill myself/somebody, given new clothes, toiletries and a couple hair ties. I pinned my hair up.
"This is for your own good, Rocky." Dad hugged me.
"Take me home, Ross is in danger." I whispered. "There is time, I can take on the big guy and you-"
"Rocky." He separated himself from me. "I'll take you home once you're okay. Behave, boy."
With a tiny nod, another security guard seized my spare arm, the two buff men leading me to my new room.
When Dad showed me the Brown & Pine Psychiatric Hospital, I was amazed at how hard they tried to make it seem like their treatments actually worked. And that they were humane.
That was a lie. A guy I knew once came here for three months and then left, killing himself and his family the night he was released. They mess you up further.
The mess began when I was accused of killing my brother. But I didn't; he bled on my clothes during a hug, before he drove away to God knows where. My parents then forced me to plead insanity - schizophrenia, to be exact.
In two weeks, I ended up here. Stripped from everything, for 'recovery'.
They led me through the monotonous white corridors, occasionally coloured with a pained scream followed by a breathless gasp. Sedation. I could barely walk, leaving the two of them to drag me.
When I looked up, I came across a blonde girl trapped inside a straitjacket. She didn't communicate, her eyes set on the way ahead of her. They flipped to me very suddenly, and goosebumps formed on me.
Our eye contact barely lasted as I was tossed into a plain room. It contained a bed, desk & chair opposite a window with bars, conditioning light.
"Tidy your stuff, it's lunch time."
"I'm not hungry."
One of them chuckled. "You'll be glad to eat soon enough. Hurry."
I placed the toiletries handed to me inside one of the compartments beneath my bed, my old clothes beside them.
This time they allowed me to walk, and I watched as others were also let out of their rooms. It was mainly quiet except from small talk, and whispers regarding me.
I ignored them, joining the line. The two security guards joined another 4 at the door.
"What are you having, sweetheart?" An old cook barked at me.
"Whatever there is."
She glared at me momentarily before noticing I was new here. Her facial expression softened, and she gave me a decent helping of pasta and the best looking slice of cake. "Here," she passed me the tray. "Any troubles with your food and come to me, yeah?"
"Sure. Thanks."
It was like high school. The tables began to become occupied with patients, and their chatter begun.
I spotted a lonely table, and walked there, ignoring the stares that had settled on the back of my head once I began to eat.
And then, silence. I looked up.
"Thanks, Linda." The same blonde from earlier walked from the canteen confidently, tray in hand. With little hesitation, she walked to my table, sitting directly opposite me.
Her hair fell in wild curls, and her eyes shone hazel, tinged with green and gold specks, much like her cheeks, lightly peppered with freckles against her sand - coloured skin.
She was stunning.
"I'm sure you'll feel better if you actually eat." She snapped.
"Sorry." I barely whispered. She looked up, calmly setting her cutlery down.
"What are you called?"
"Rocky. Like the mountains." I spoke. "Yourself?"
"I, Rocky like the mountains," she smirked. "I'm Elsey Brown."
"You speak as if I should know you." I stabbed at the pasta.
"My dad co-founded the hospital." She said, pausing to drink a sip of milk. "Imagine how that went down when it got out. He's a businessman, with a crazy daughter."
"What did you do?"
Elsey laughed, interrupting majority of the conversations. "Are you serious? No. What did you do?"
"I was accused of killing my brother, but he ran way. My parents made me plea insanity."
"Oh. Sorry." She said casually. "Our stories are similar, only that I actually killed."
"You killed someone?"
"Oscar Brown, the one that was on the news a few weeks ago." I can't describe how careless she seemed. "Apparently if a guy decapitates and then takes somebody's heart out, it's third degree murder, but if a pretty girl does it, she's nuts. They just don't understand that I meant to do it."
"Murderer!" A lady across the hall screamed, security dashing to her. Elsey stood on a chair, throwing her knife across the room.
"You're next!"
It wasn't long until security had Elsey pinned down to the ground, partly sedated. They hauled her up, and rather coolly, she said, "See you around, Rocky like the mountains."
+++
Whispers told me Elsey was shoved into the padded room for three hours, others told me she was shocked for a while.
"Worse than that," I found her after lunch, a cigarette between her teeth. "My husband came to visit."
"You're married?"
"Sadly. I was forced, of course. Because I need a man to hold me down; fuck that, I say." She sits on a bench, watching the others run around the field for exercise. I sit beside her. "Was your brother cute?"
"Is," I corrected. "And he looks kind of like me, but blonde. And happier."
"Can I meet him when we run away?"
"What?" I eyed her.
"Please. You know you're going to do it, and I have finally found someone who is capable of getting me out of here and very far away." She took a long drag, and then her eyes looked at me carefully. "I won't let that chance escape so easily."
