90 Days//Dreamnotfound

Week One

Cold and alone.

He could see the light shine through his eyelids. He could feel the unfamiliar setting in his bones. As his eyes slowly flickered open, all he could see was the bright blinding lamp above him. The voices around him were muffled, however the people seemed less than five feet away.

George was confused. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing here. The last thing he could remember was being on stage, preforming with his band.

He tried to push himself up from the hard mattress below him. The many doctors and nurses quickly gathered around him.

"Welcome back to the world George, how are you feeling?" And sweet nurse with pink hair said as she checked his vitals.

"Where am I?" He spoke bitterly.

"You're at the New York City Psych ward, do you remember why you're here?" She asked in a nice tone, disregarding George's.

The brunette looked around. He was in a light blue hospital gown. There was an IV in his arm and a blood pressure monitor on his finger tip. Panic started to flow through his body. This wasn't right.

"No. When can I leave?" He spat back.

"Well, I'll let your doctor explain that one. He will be in shortly." She said before giving him a warm smile and leaving the room.

"What the fuck is going on?" The boy thought to himself.

As George sat in the bed hearing the beeps of the machine he tried to rack his brain for any logical explanation of what happened.

The last thing reoccurring in his mind was his last performance. He was up on stage with his band mates playing their sold out show. Images of the large posters that read "The Haze", the stupid name Wilbur and Tommy had come up with the first day they all decided to start a band, flashed in his mind. He could still vividly see the crowd of people jumping, dancing, and singing under the colored lights. He could hear Wilbur's voice booming through the speakers as Tommy played the drums and he strummed his electric guitar. He could still feel the high that was coursing through his body was before the show.

High school was when George popped his first pill. It was nothing more than harmless fun at the time. However after graduation, things started to spiral. He had too much time on his hands, and started to turn to drugs whenever he wanted to feel something. Still, he never over did it. Even when he fell into a depression, his goal was never to die. He just wanted to feel alive again. Yes he had a problem, which he was well aware of, but he never took it too far.

While deep in thought, the doctor entered the room.

"Hey mate," he started causally, "how are you feeling?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that? Obviously not very well," the Brit snapped back.

"Understandable. On a brighter side, your vitals are looking good." The doctor said, checking the clipboard in his hands.

George read the name tag printed on the man's white coat, Phil.

"Nurse Niki mentioned that you weren't completely sure on why you were here, what's the last thing you remember?" He asked sincerely.

"Preforming with Wilbur and Tommy," the brunette said blandly, combing his fingers through his tangled hair.

"Okay, memory loss is common after an overdose so I'm not-" Phil started before being interrupted.

"Overdose?" George said in a confused tone.

"Yes mate, you overdosed. Two boy, I'm guessing your friends there, called 911 after they found you passed out in your room with a bottle of pills next to you. After they treated you at the hospital, you were transferred here. It's standard over dose protocol," the doctor explained as he scribbled something down on his papers.