Half Mad (Sequel to Half Bad)

Chapter 2

        Walking down the hallways in the direction of what was supposed to be where our cells would be, I took note of how many people we passed and the eerie glances they gave us. One woman looked as if she were speaking to herself, so I checked her off as a possible schizophrenic, but curiosity left me wondering what "criminal act of injustice" she had done to land a spot in here.

        Another man totally took off running the other direction when his eyes had met Marcus's, so I made a mental note to ask him later about what Marcus did to him.

        Person after person passed, each looking as close to normality as possible. But there were always the little details that stuck out - the people that would be pulling at the roots of their hair, the people speaking to themselves, the people wide-eyed and backed in a corner. And even as deranged as Marcus is, one thing was clear:

        None of us belonged in a place like this.

        I had mental stability. Tons of it, actually, aside from the emotional views that Rose had left me with. But I was not schizophrenic, I was not bipolar, I was not depressed or suicidal. I was simply a criminal, and yet they had classified me as criminally insane. 

        Daniel had leaned over to me at one point and whispered, "I don't like it here," and all I could do was nod because I was at a loss of words.

        The cells ended up being six by six room with a single cot in the middle and tiny table beside it. The doors were also glass, which was no doubt soundproof to keep the screams of the insane at bay. There were little keypads to the side of the glass doors that slid them open and closed.

        "This is clearly where you'll stay majority of the time," a man from up front said. He cleared his throat. "Pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is William and I am a therapist here who you will speak to at least twice a week."

        I rolled my eyes, holding back a groan.

        "There will be daily activities for you to participate in," he said. "Arts and crafts, card games, group therapy, and so on. Lunch will be held at noon in the cafeteria and there you are allowed to move freely and mingle with who you wish. But there is no touching allowed, no harsh or violent actions or words, and no enemies."

        Daniel raised his hand. "Just out of curiosity, is there baking? A read a book one time and-"

        "No," William said with a sad smile. "There was once a baking activity but not everyone knew how to properly use the oven."

        Daniel's eyes widened before he slowly put his hand down.

        "Any other questions?"

        No one moved.

        William clapped his hands. "Great, so memorize your cell number. You are required to have a guard escort you everywhere. Lunch is also in a few moments, so how about we all head to the cafeteria? And if any of you need help in the future, you can ask a guard to bring you to me."

        A guard roughly shoved my shoulder for me to move and I glared at him, but the shackles prevented my power from working. He snickered and I grumbled obscenities under my breath at the failed attempt. He was two seconds away from choking to death.

        "Gentlemen," William said as he faced us outside two double doors. A smile crept upon his lips as he spun to open them while saying, "Welcome to Hawthorne, an institution for the criminally insane."

***

        "I'm five seconds away from slitting someone's throat," I grumbled as I dropped the lunch tray onto the table, dropping down into the seat angrily. The food didn't look appetizing at all, but I have been starved for almost five days now.