This is Recovery. | A SBI Angst|

35

(IM SO SORRY. I'LL EDIT THIS INTO THE STORY LATER, BUT PLEASE JUST IMAGINE HE HAD A BAG OF HIS CLOTHES WITH HIM! SOME MENTAL HOSPITALS LET YOU WEAR YOUR OWN CLOTHES, SO PLEASE JUST IMAGINE HE BROUGHT A BAG OF EXTRA CLOTHES!)

Dad and I arrive at the mental hospital. If I'm being honest it's not at all what I expected. I thought it'd be a grotty building that looks like crazy people are inside it. It's not. It's quite a normal-looking building. Does it still look like unstable people are inside? Yes.
It's very closed off and it's to the side of the road a bit hidden. It is a big building. There is a connected building, separate from the first one, with zero windows. I'd say the connected building has 5 or more floors. I don't think all those floors are just for patients though.

I was getting visibly nervous and I could tell because Dad kept glancing at me every few minutes, but not saying anything.

I see him pull into the hospital and we drive up the long driveway. He parks and then looks at me. "All right, this is it. Ya ready to go in?"
"No," I say. Dad sighs and shakes his head slightly before opening the car door and stepping out. I reluctantly open my door and step out of the car. I feel sick.

Dad and I opened the door to the place and it smelt like, what I imagine, a retirement home would smell like. Dad walked up to the receptionist, and they started talking. I was lost in thought, so I didn't hear what they were talking about. There were two people in the lobby waiting in small blue chairs. They looked older than me.

"All right, buddy. You can go sit down over there," Dad says, and he gestures toward the blue chairs. I take a seat at the one closest to me. Dad thanks the receptionist and stands beside me. 
"Dad... I'm nervous."
"Same," he says bluntly, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

The other two people who were waiting got escorted by nurses before me. It was now just me and Dad in this waiting area.
"Will I be allowed my phone?" I ask Dad.
"Bud, I've never been in a mental hospital before."
"True." I sigh and look toward the nurse who seems to be approaching me and Dad. I look up at Dad and shake my head because I didn't want to go. My stomach was doing summer saults.
"Hello! I'm nurse James. I'll be showing you around and where you'll be staying."
"Hey! This is my son, Wilbur." Dad rubs my back.
 I grumble and look over to her. "Hi..." I mutter. I stand up and hug Dad, he hugs me back and kisses me on the crown of my head. After a minute I let go.
"Bye, love you. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Bye, Dad... I love you."
"Be good," he says. I nod. He smiles at me, but I do not return it. The nurse puts her hand on my lower back and guides me through the building. I look over my shoulder, and Dad is still standing there looking at me. When he catches me looking he gives me a slight smile. 

The nurse guides me into a different building that is connected to that building.
"All right. We're going to be removing all the things that could potentially be a safety hazard, okay?" the nurse says. I nod. Her eyes scan my body for a second. "anything in your pockets?"
"My phone and headphones."
"We're going to need to confiscate both of those things." She puts her hand out. I pull them out of my pocket and place them in her hand. She then places them in a bin on the table beside us. "Also your shoes. We'll be providing you with socks." Socks?
"Why can't I wear my socks?"
"The floors are slippery. We'll be providing socks with grippy parts at the bottom." 
"Oh..." I slip my shoes off. She picks them up and puts them into the bin with my phone and headphones. The nurse walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a pair of socks. It looks like the ones you'd get at a trampoline park. I take my socks off and slip on the other ones. She then takes my bag and empties all of it onto a table. She goes through the whole bag. Every pocket in the bag. Every pocket in my extra clothes. Everything.
"Your bag is fine. Your clothes are fine. Glasses are fine." She nods. "nails are fairly short... I think we're all good here."
"Okay..." I mumble. She guides me out of that area into the actual hospital area.
"You'll be sharing a room with this other kid." The apathy in her voice was vastly clear.
"cool..."

She guides me around the place for around 20 minutes. Showing me each room and explaining the use. Finally she takes me to my room.
"All right, here we are." She opens the door. "Well, I'll let you rest. Dinner is at 5 p.m."
"Thanks," I say.
"Uh-huh." She then walks away. I walk into my room and look around. I look between the two beds and set my bag onto the bed that isn't messy. I groan and flop down onto the bed.
"Huh? Who are you?" A soft voice says. I look over to the other bed and see someone sitting up, rubbing their eyes.
"Oh, I didn't think you were in here. Sorry for waking you up," I say quietly.
"Oh. Your my new roomie!" The person jumps up from their bed.
"I'm Wilbur." I notice how short the person is. I don't think they're my age. Their voice is also more high-pitch.
"I'm Emmett!"
"Oh, cool." I set my bag beside my bed.
"How old are you, Mr. Wilbur?" Emmett asks.
"I'm 16." I smile softly.
"Oh, cool! So you're in high school!"
"mhm."
"I'm 11!" He has a big goofy smile. Why the hell is he so happy?
"You're... a kid?" I'm absolutely flabbergasted.
"I'm a pre-teen." He grumbles. I chuckle. He kind of reminds me of Tommy.
"Right." I hold back a laugh.

Maybe it won't be so terrible after all...?

-------------------------------------------

I've never been in a mental hospital, so my only resources are TikTok, Youtube because articles don't explain the experience from a patients view, nor does it explain what happens when you go there. It only is vague things like what you can and can't bring.

1123-words