You Are Mine

Mini chapter. Flower.

Trigger warning. This book will discuss mental health, dark themes, mature sexual content, self harm, and violence. Please know I will try to remember to give warnings at the beginning of any chapter containing triggering topics.

Haven't given up hope for getting "baddest" back in some way, but if I can't recover it I'm going to rewrite it as I work on this book as well. Thank you for everyone's support and those who tried to screenshot it.

I wonder how many times mr. king is going to pace the hallway today. We're at 23 times so far today. The same path every time, I'm surprised he hasn't worn out the flooring with the way he drags his feet when he walks. Those slippers scuffing along the floor. I've been in the place too long if the highlight of my days are if mr. king throws a fit when the staff tries to steer him off his path, of obsession. The man was in his own world, although most of us here are.

Where is here exactly? Currently it's the bayside psychiatric facility. Why am I here? Like most of us in this place, life got the best of me and brought me down a twisted road of hell to their overly medicated front doors. We'll call it a psychotic break. I've been here for 6 months and the doctor says I'm making great progress all while he writes just how fucked I am in that annoyingly thick file about me. All bullshit mind you.

"Group starts in 5. Everyone please make your way to the session room. Thank you."

The sudden blast from the intercom doesn't even phase me. These medications have made me numb. I may have been emotionally broken before I came here but at least I could feel. I sigh, and slowly bring myself to stand and walk towards that blue door I hate so much. If I have to listen to Miranda bitch about her rich girl problems I am going to find a way to jump out the window, maybe toss her out of it. That's total bullshit, the windows are sealed, not that I've tried. Well. Never mind.

The room is cold, why are hospitals always so cold? I take a seat closest to the window, planning to watch the birds flaunt their freedom while I'm stuck here. One by one my cohabitants enter the room, they all look as impressed as me to be here.

Dr. Z walks in, don't ask me to say his last name. It's gibberish as far as I'm concerned, and that man is undeserving of my respect. Fuck learning how to say his name correctly.

"Good morning, everyone." He smiles. "Now, today I'd like to-..."

He's interrupted by the door opening in a rather hostile manner.

"This is part of the program. Now, find a seat before I help you." The nurse says in an agitated voice and gestures for someone to come in. I focus my attention to the window again, so envious of those fucking birds.

"Lucky me." A deep voice says, an almost villain like laugh follows.

My curiosity is raised. I peek from the corner of my eye to see a tattooed, god like man slowly creeping past the door frame. My heart begins to race, which freaks me out for a moment because these medications have me in a zombie like state most of the time. My body is always numb while my thoughts just zoom and I talk to myself inside my head.

The nurse mutters a 'good luck' and shuts the door once Colson is in the room.

"Ah, yes. Everyone, please welcome Colson to the group." Dr Z. Offers a small smile, and everyone immediately gives Colson their full attention. "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself, , Colson."

Colson sits in a seat close by him, leaning back and wearing a delicious smirk.

"Hello, everybody. My name is Colson. I'm labeled an assailant. I'm not here to make new friends, I ain't the one you want to babble to." Colson glances around the room, visibly enjoying the looks of pure horror at his bluntness.