They told me I was weird. A freak. Abnormal.
I told them to go to Hell.
Day 1
It started again. The hallucinations and the nightmares. Dad put me back in this place because of it. It smells weird, like cleaning supplies and old people. Like a hospital, but different. They said I'll be okay in here. That it'll all get better. But it always gets worse before it gets better.
Day 2
I was taken to Group today. When I was here 8 months ago, Group was pretty terrible at first. They made us do all those stupid games where you learn each other's name and your favorite book, or movie, or hobby. But in here, they asked our names and why we were there. I didn't tell the truth. Today, we did the same thing. I change the story every time. I've been in here 5 times before. You'd think they'd give up on me already. But apparently, giving up is never an option. I thought it was.
