psych ➳ muke

0.4

Group therapy is my least favorite part of the day. Not only am I forced to sit in a room, surrounded by whiny teenagers, but I'm also meant to talk. Today, Louise, the head nurse, is leading group. She's a nice woman, petite, long blond hair. She has a kind smile, but it's very misleading.

I learn very quickly that Louise means business. She starts off by noting that there is a new patient in the ward.

Me.

And all eyes turn to stare me down. Michael is here, but he's on the other side of the room, eyes glued to the floor. He isn't very social, I notice.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" She's talking to me, but I wish she wasn't.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," I stumble over my words, "Hi. My name is Luke."

A few others offer a greeting in return, some just fake a smile.

"Luke, would you like to tell us why you're here?" Louise pushes.

And I don't want to share, I want to curl into a ball in my bed, and never come out. But I can't and I don't.

"I, uh, tried to kill myself..."

I expect a reaction. Maybe a gasp or someone's eyes to go wide. But they don't. They just continue to stare, blankly, unmoving. No words are exchanged. And then I realize, they are probably here for the same reason.

"Why don't we go around the room and introduce ourselves? Just tell Luke your name and why you are here."

The introductions start to the left of me, circling around the room. There are about ten of us total. All in our teenage years.

There is Sutton, who cuts herself.

Ivy, who suffers severe anxiety and paranoia.

Sawyer, who has anger management issues. Apparently, he smashed his parent's television.

Finn, who is depressed.

Brynn, who tried to take her own life.

Levi, who is severe OCD to the point its "ruining his life".

Clayton, who is also depressed, claiming he will never amount to anything.

Acacia, who is a sex addict and ran away from home.

And then there is Michael. At first, he stays silent. Louise has to urge him on, saying that it is okay to talk. That we are all here to listen.

He sighs dramatically, sits upright in his chair, and locks his eyes to mine, "My name is Michael. And... Hell, we're all a little psychotic, we're all fucked up. I just happen to hear voices."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. His voice is warm, soft like vanilla. And I find myself wishing he would speak again. But then I realize exactly what his words mean.

Michael is schizophrenic.

• • • • • • • • • •

First of all, I swear if someone compares THIS Acacia to Acacia Brinley I will personally start snapping necks. My character IS NOT her. Nor is it based off of her. I just like the name. And no, I DO NOT like Acacia Brinley, so don't even ask.

Secondly, I hope you enjoy this chapter! And I already LOVE this story so so much. I had this idea in my head for a really long time and I just wanted to get it out there. I'm going to be paying A LOT of attention to this story, so PLEASE stick around. It will not disappoint.

Q: How do you feel about Michael being schizophrenic?

LOVE YOU GUYS, SEE YOU NEXT UPDATE!