Held Tight by Someone I Know

End.

"MPD?"

"That's what I said." Dr. Reeves confirmed.

"Which is...?"

"Multiple Personality Disorder."

"Shit..." He breathed out in a silent,  surprised sound.

"We can prescribe you medication on it, but it's not going to work straight away, as you can probably tell"

"Well, what's the medication?"

"Well, we have three options here." I say sullenly and silently in my chair. Well, slumped is a better word for it. I didn't really give a rat's ass about any of this. I just wanted to leave this hell hole and never return.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray...

Lord, help me.

"What are our options?" Billie asked with a voice with such as anticipation.
What I didn't understand was why I was here in the first place. I mean, c'mon. I get it! I'm off the motherfucking rails, aren't I? But, who is to say that it will happen again, right? Wrong.

"Well, we have brain exercises, y'know. Just simple work book activities and mind meditation to help settle the defective part of the brain," he paused with adding a common 'uh' in between his sentence and moved on, "We can do the meditation as planned, uh most likely at the comfort of your own home..." I breathed a sigh of relief. I am free, motherfuckers! "...While under house arrest."

SON OF A BITCH!

I groaned and slammed the back of my head against the wall, making a noticeable 'Bang!' Sound and drawing too much attention in my direction.

"Are you okay, Neo?" Dad asked with concern, placing his hand on the back of my head. I have a half-hearted chuckle and nodded.

"Peachy. Keep going." I sighed. Dr. Reeves gave a short, assuring nod and turned back to Dad.

"Well, Option Three is, well..." He trailed off.

Dad spread out his hands in front of him and cocked his head.
"Well...?" He asked. There's a lot of wells in one sitting.

"Well, she spends more time here in the facility..."

This really caught my attention.

"For how long?" I asked.

"Six months. If that."

Fuck me sideways, up the ass and 360.

"Six months?! Six whole fucking, mind wrenching, subduing, imbecilic, psychotic, asinine, moronic, half-baked, ill-conceived months in this fucking mental asylum?!"

As I paused, I glanced at Dad to see his eyes wide and his head cocked back in a surprised manner.

"Well..." Dad whispered.

"Fuck that! Forget it! This place is a fucking vegetable magnet and a a sane peasant repellant; In the last two weeks of staying here; I've had pills shoved down my throat, wrapped tight in a nut case's bandage, shoved around in worry of 'non-compliance', injected with sedatives and have been isolated this whole time!"

"Well, the rec room-"

"The fucking rec room is full of insane humans who don't know how to either talk, listen or know the fucking difference between a toilet and their fucking pants! No one of them play cards, none of them have half a mind to even have a full blown conversation!"

"Honey, now that's being rude-"

"I. Don't. Care. You spend one DAY in the loony bin, Armstrong, ONE DAY! And tell me you would be Mr. Happy go Lucky! Oh, yes! I can see it now! A nice gold glow behind you as you walk in a suit made of gold and unicorn shit!" I said sarcastically, I had stood up by now and used actions as I talked.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Are we done here?" I sassed.

Dr. Reeves sighed and nodded.

"You may go back to your room, Miss. Armstrong."

"Whatever. By the way, option two. Thanks." I said before opening the heavy, metal door and stepping out.
I growled to myself as I started walking down the hall before Dad ran up next to me.

Good ol' daddy; here to save the day.

Shut up, pen dick.

"Baby? Are you okay?" Tears stung my eyes as I turned to him.

"Don't you fucking get it?! I don't want to be here! I want to go home! I want to go to school and stay with Jimmy! I want to be with my fucking family!" Tears poured out of my eyes as I yelled in the halls, drawing unwanted attention from psychs and patients.

"Hey, baby. Look at me." Dad said softly, leaning down and brushing my hair out if my face, " We're gonna get you out of here. I promise."

I stared at him with hope.
Hope.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?" I asked as I held out my pinkie finger, sniffing away my excess tears.

Dad held out his pinkie and intertwined it  with mine.

"Pinkie promise."