Asylum (Mcr Fic)

The Get Go

Lets get something straight, known from the get-go, Im not crazy.

Yes, I've been at the Asylum for about a year now... But Im fine. Im normal.

I pop a pill into my mouth.

I mean, I havent had to use the padded room for a while now. They say Im making progress. That means I must be making progress. I feel the same, though.

I pop a different type of pill into my mouth.

I dont remember much of whats outside, but I know its there. It was my parents chasing me. It was me running into the road and away from them. It was being jerked backwards. Then it was my plain white room and connected padded room. The door number 7.

I can barely remember their faces now, theyre just shadows... In fact, cant remember what life was like before the Asylum. I guess life started at the plain white room, door number 7.

I close the bottles and stare at the wall in between glimpses at a string I am pulling on my jumpsuit.

They said my parents sent me here and that they wanted to fix me. They would have contacted me if they wanted to pick me up, right? Maybe Im just really sick.

"Food in five." Mary pokes her head around the door.

I nod and she leaves. Mary is my speaking clock, the last time we had a conversation was never. I know nothing valuable about Mary.

My head hurts. They have tried a new way of curing me. They send electricity to my brain which makes me have a seizure. I cant count how many treatments Ive had, but I bet they have a neatly organised folder, full of my every move.

After all the shocks earlier my hair has doubled in volume and stands on end. I try flattening it before giving up and going back to holding part of my white jumpsuit. Its not that I really want to put any effort into fashion, its just hygiene is a good indicator of sanity and sanity means getting out of the cures. I dont feel different, I just feel hazy and empty.

Treatment changes monthly. They said that new medicine is created all the time and thats why there will always be a new treatment. Maybe they just want the best for me. Surely they do. My parents will be back to get me any day now.

I still wonder why there are so few of us at this hospital and why we cant leave. There are always so many unanswered questions.

Mary is at the door.

"Come, food." She states.

I stand and stretch, following her through the pale halls to the eating area. There are only twenty patients at the most, but sometimes patients disappear and are replaced. Some say theres nothing wrong with them, yelling as theyre dragged through the hall, but apparently thats a disorder in itself. I never knew there were so many disorders to be fixed, but you learn new things in a place like this.

I take a tray of food and sit on my own at the end of the final table.

The last time I sat with someone they had a fit and dumped their food on me.

I mix the meal together a bit, picking it apart, barely putting it to my lips. The shocks from this morning have numbed my taste a little.

I shiver at the memory of this morning. A team of people had to hold me down as they administered the shocks. Not because I fought back, but because the shocks caused seizures and they didnt want me hurting myself further. Only two people had to hold me down, the last person had four. I need to eat more. I put another mouthful of food into my mouth.

I still feel as exhausted as after this mornings shocks, Id love to sleep for a long time but apparently thats another symptom of some disorder I have. I can barely name what I have. It changes. The doctors are on top of it though. They probably have cabinets of information. Youd be surprised how much they write down.