MENTAL | D.M + H.G

Chapter 2

Hampstead Heights Mental Institution failed to fit into Hermione's stereotype of mental hospitals. Aside from the few fellow patients she passed on the way to the dining hall, that were speaking in full sentences to the ceilings and walls as if they were listening and responding back, Hampstead Heights seemed to be calm. Its walls were painted perfectly with a white that matched snow, and there was not a speck of dirt in sight.

There was no blood-curdling screams around each corner.

No door-windows covered with bloody handprints of unfortunate victims of experimentation.

No rusty metal railings on the walls.

And fortunately, there was no presence of past patients who seek justice from beyond the grave.

Everything was simply calm- and somehow peaceful.

Hermione strolled down the corridors towards the dining hall slowly and quietly. Being the nosy person she is, she peered into any room whose door was opened or had a window. The rooms closer to hers appeared exactly the same. After a few minutes, Hermione came across rooms that were more spacious and contained a group of chairs, set up in a circle rather than a metal bed.

After a couple more minutes, Hermione could hear the ambience of the dining hall. She turned a couple more corners and wondered to herself why she had to be so far from the dining hall.

Hermione took one last left and was standing in the entrance of the dining hall -

It was quite minimal.

Instead of the stark white walls, the dining hall was painted a delicate blue. The off-white tables were split up into four long rows. To the right of the entrance was the buffet line and in the back of the dining hall, Hermione could make out a sign that read,

MEDICATION DISPENSARY

Other than the tables, the buffet, and that sign, the dining hall was extremely bare.

Hermione realized that she was probably standing for too long at the entrance and started gravitating to a random table - the second one in from the right.

Hermione sat down near the back of the dining hall, trying to go unnoticed, she was not in the mental space to meet any of the other patients. It was already too much information to be given to her all at once. Her head hasn't stopped pounding since she was made aware of this reality - her actually reality. All her friends that she believed were real - gone. Ripped away from her. The only spaces that her old imaginary friends occupy in her mind are distant and obscured. She still can't make out any faces or recall any names, and making any effort would simply add more to her headache.

Hermione sat for about 5-10 min without food, only to realize that there are no house elves to magically serve the food. She let out a gasp of her annoyance for having to stand up once again in such a public setting like the dining hall. She made her way over near the entrance again and got in line for the today's breakfast, which unfortunately was overcooked sausage and bacon, with runny scrambled eggs.

Not her favorite.

Hermione turned back towards her part of the table to discover a small group of patients her age taking seats too close where she was seated - and there were not any other seats available.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and breathed.

Just breathe. You don't have to talk to them. Just don't pay attention.

As Hermione made her way over to her table, she could make out three patients that were invading her space. The first, a girl, looked around Hermione's age. She had unmanaged, dirty-blonde hair, that fell just below her waist. Hermione gazed over the blonde's facial features and could tell that she was a bit checked-out of this reality. She had the same light-pink socks Hermione did. The girl was also with two boys, who also looked around the same age.