insane. || luke hemmings au

one.

before

"i swear to god, ethan, if you take one more step towards me ill swallow these pills. im not scared to die. i promise, ill be okay just please let me leave." i didn't notice how hard I was crying until I felt the tears pour down my cheeks.

"jane, stop it right now. you're fucking psycho. i don't see why you're acting like this." he stepped towards me a couple feet.

"fuck you. i try everyday to be exactly what you want, but I fail. and its pretty obvious you don't care about me, im better off dead."

i brought my hand to my mouth and swallowed the handful of pills.

after

"jane, welcome. we hope you'll adjust nicely to everything here. breakfast is at 8, then you have class for four hours, lunch at noon, and group therapy at two. after that you're free. and every wednesday at three you have your personal therapy session with Dr. Stone. also no sharp objects, or anything like that, considering your past."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. i was thrown into this mental hospital just because I want to die. instead of saying anything to the nurse I walked away.

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew it was almost four. I figured I could wander around until I found group therapy. it took a while, but I found it.

"good afternoon everyone." a lady with a clipboard said. she continued to talk but I managed to ignore her, as I glanced around the room. most of the people in here seemed normal, yet they were so unordinary.

a guy with bruises all on his arms, two girls the size of twigs. a girl, probably about thirteen, who had dark circles under eyes. but one person stood out.

he sat away from everyone. he had blonde hair. and he sat against the wall. he had his knees tucked in his chest, and he continuously rocked back and forth.

"hello? jane?"

"uhm, yes?" I said quietly. "can you please say your diagnosis and one fact about you."

"well im 'suicidal and depressed' and they think this shit hole will help me."

the woman looked at me for a minute. "you never said a fact about you."

I took a deep breath before saying "I hate all of you, and I love bands."

it went on with people stating their names, diagnosis and a fact about them self.

the boy with bruises has ptsd, caused by his abusive parents. the two girls are anorexic, the youngest girl ran away and was used in human trafficking, she was introduced to drugs and she ended up pregnant.

the other boy wouldn't speak. he simply sat and rocked. every now and then he'd whisper something, but no one understood.

i was determined to figure him out, he's the only person here who seems a little interesting.

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a/n: aye, new fanfic. idk I kind of like this idea. its not edited soo oops. sorry for mistakes.

it might be awhile before I update because im busy af with concerts and school and softball.