Asylum (Mcr Fic)

Rotten

I wake up to the beeping. I lurch and take a breath. Its like resurfacing from deep under water.

What happened? What room am I in? How long have I been sleeping?

I open my eyes and look around. Im in my bedroom, I think, just lying on top of the sheets. I feel tired and sluggish and slightly sick. I notice Im not wearing my jumpsuit and naturally blush with embarrassment. My head is heavy and I can barely move my limbs. How long has it been?

There are so many wires on me that when the door to my room opens I cant push myself into the corner as Im practically stuck. I cant see who it is but they press buttons on the machine absent mindedly. It takes me a minute or two to gather the courage to draw attention to myself.

"Whats happening to me?" I ask quietly.

The doctor looks up at me in surprise, realising Im awake. Its doctor Way, unsurprisingly.

"And why is it always you around?" I add.

"I work the machines, nobody else really knows how. I complete the tests." He says, looking up at me and pausing. "You were just in a medically induced coma. They injected you with insulin hopefully to calm your symptoms. You technically overdosed but that was the idea. That was this morning, its almost midnight now."

"Midnight?"

"Yep."

Theres a silence between us but the beeping carries on through, steady.

"How are you feeling?"

I pause and consider. "I dont know. Confused... Incurable."

Doctor Way takes some paper out of his pocket. He hands it over to me.

Rock bottom is a long journey up from here
Success in life is behind rusted locked doors and dreams that are closed
A wise man said "You get what you get and what you get is regret"
Every day is the first day of my life and every night I die a new death
I know what Im missing, Im giving up on myself before anyone has to
Im way past ripe into rotten. Rotten. Rotten. ROTTE-

I let out a sour laugh. My handwriting is slurred and rushed.

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" I ask.

"Curious. Not uncomfortable."

"Im sick, you know that?"

He doesnt reply, but stops what he is doing. My head is fuzzy and I dont really control what Im saying.

"Its been going on for so long."

I look up at the spiderwebs on the ceiling.

"Im surely incurable and close to my death."

I feel the paper in my fingers.

"Im just so sick of not knowing whats happening... And being broken... The cures hurt. They scare me. I dont even know what I have, just that its wrong. I have days where Im so out of it all I do is stare, because of the cures. I have days where Im angry and days where Im sad and days where Im locked in the padded room for hours. You doctors like it better when I have no emotions at all. Maybe I like being emotional sometimes. What if I want to stay ill and accept defeat? I just dont want to be here anymore."

I snap the joints in my fingers, still staring at the ceiling in the hopes of stopping any tears.

"I dont like needles. Or this." I point at a node on my skin, attached to a wire.

"You know." Doctor Way says. "The doctors think youre the most valuable patient and that youve come the furthest out of all of the rest of them."

I look over at him. Most valuable? He gives me a small smile but I can tell he is guilty. Why is he guilty?

"I think youre..." He swallows, looking at the floor. "I think youre close to getting better."

"Really?" I ask, a new spark of hope igniting in me.

"Yeah..."

"I could get out one day?"

"Sure... Goodnight Seven." He stands, turning to the door. "Dont let the beeping put you off."

He locks the door behind him.

It doesnt take me long to fall asleep again, dreaming of one day getting out of here.

/////

I wake up choking to breathe. My chest is pulling in on itself and I cry out for help, from someone.

Im scared I wont be able to breathe again as I clutch at my chest in the desperate hope of breathing. I shout out again. I grab for air and my head swims. Im drowning in something. Im drowning!

I can feel tears on my face as I sit up. My breathing slowly starts again and I gasp for all I can get.

Mary pushes the door open, ignoring my tears, and silently escorts me to a recreational room.

She locks the door behind me, barely a word of comfort, just like usual. I wipe away my tears slowly, taking a seat opposite a young man, just younger than me, who seems hysterically scared but sympathetic. His brownish hair falls in his face, ratty and greasy looking. He is as lanky as I am "thin". I put my head in my hands, running my hands over my face and stuttering a breath.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I wait to see if he is talking to someone in his head.

"Do you speak or is that your quirk and condition?"

He looks directly at me. He must be talking to me.

"Im Mikey. Im fairly new here. About a week or so."

"Im Seven." I wipe away further at the dried tears on my face and watch him. He seems slightly taken aback. Im not sure whether its because I just spoke, or that my name is Seven.

"You might know my brother? Doctor Way?"

Doctor Ways brother? I knew I recognised him from somewhere. I nod slowly, thinking about the picture with the mirrored frame on Doctor Ways desk.

"I think he is mainly here just to check Im being treated well. So far it hasnt been too horrible-"

"You wait." The honesty burns my tongue.

"Does it get worse?"

"I came out of a coma yesterday. They put me into a coma. Im about as... Uh... ill as before."

"What are you in for?" 

I dont reply, trying to remember.

"I had an emotional breakdown recently and they said it would only be right." He says, suggesting he could be trustworthy.

"I cant remember anymore." I search for an answer. "Ive heard so many words being thrown around."

"Oh okay... How long have you been here for?"

"Maybe a year."

"Maybe a year?"

I shrug.