Changing Tides [JohnProudstar]

Prologue

"After being diagnosed with psychopathy, I hereby sentence Miss Callahan to Lakeview Mental Institution, until it is proven that psychiatric care is no longer needed."

The gavel bangs against the wooden table, and my sixteen year old eyes widen as I come into what's actually happening here. Two guards grab each of my arms, escorting me away and toward a white transport van. I look behind me at the gallery of the court room to see none of the girls from the group home I've been staying at for the past six years. I knew none of them liked me for being a mutie but I mean, what a bunch of bratty bitches.

2 years later...

I jump out of my sleep at the sound of something loud being hauled across the floor of my room in Lakeview Mental Hospital; room 49B. I sit up, and notice one of my nurses putting another bed in the opposite corner of the room. "Sheila what's going on?" I question the middle aged woman, while rubbing my eyes.

"You're getting a roommate today, Tate." She responds with a smile, but I just raise my eyebrows in confusion.

"Roommate?" I chuckle dryly. "I thought I was a "risk factor" for other people?" I roll my eyes, putting air quotes on risk factor.

"You know I don't believe that, but please try and be nice to her." I nod, as two men carry in a dresser. "This could be good for you." Sheila adds as she makes up the bed with fresh sheets.

"How? You and I both know I'm not leaving this place any saner than I came. No amount of drugs, therapy, or group sessions are going to do any good." I resume my previous position on the bed.

"You never know." She shrugs. "She'll be here sometime today. Why don't you come down and grab some breakfast. I hear they have waffles." A small smile creeps onto my face and I get out of the bed, slipping my jacket over my arms, before heading down to the cafeteria. In a place like this you learn to appreciate the small things...like frozen eggo waffles.

—
I sit at the small table in my room, finally putting down the book in my hands. I glance up at the small stuffed bunny rabbit sitting on my dresser. Its the only thing I was left with when I was abandoned at a police station on my first birthday. After that I bounced around in the foster care system until I was 10 and the people I were staying with busted me for taking their cash and called my caseworker. But let's just forget about how my caseworker was a complete idiot, for not realizing she'd left me in the care of two heroin addicts who were just using the money they were getting for me, to buy more drugs. This resulted in me being placed into St. Catherine's Home For Troubled Girls where I remained for the next six years. I don't remember my parents...who they are, or what they even look like, but it's not for lack of trying. Its been 17 years and I haven't gotten a single phone call, text, or any form of communication from either of them.