Freedom To Another Cage [BILLFORD]

Chapter 1: Shit

Of course. The Axolotl thought he needed "help" instead of getting back on track. And the place... Wasn't even that helpful, either.

Bill was kept in some white room with a poster that had some stupid pun on it or whatever. At least the beds were somewhat comfy, albeit just a mattress, although sleep wasn't always necessary. He woke up a bit early, so all the other wackos were asleep, leaving him to lie there.

Bill lied there on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, thoughts leaking in.
He then turned over to face the wall. All the papers, pencils, tape, and even the scissors were gone, which was weird, as he had gotten used to it. Too bad they replaced it with Puppet Hour, where they kept stuff in a separate room since it mostly involved dangerous objects and didn't want the inpatients to hurt themselves. Which is funny, since they didn't always care if the inpatients ate some of the staff.
There was nothing to do in the dim-lit room, which eventually lightened as the lights were flicked on. No warning, no build-up, nothing. Just lights out to lights on.

Bill looked up at the blinding light, but maybe it was only blinding to him... Unsure, but he eventually looked away, getting up and facing the door. About time!
Not too long after the lights came on, there was a knock on the door, very unenthusiastic voice on the other end, "#323322. Breakfast in 5."

He sighed before floating up to the door, opening it and exiting out into the bland hallway, which stood a pretty tired and disheveled woman who looked like she tried to fix it, but failed miserably, and even seemed like she was ready to drop like a sack of potatoes. Hah! "Good, you're up. The only one in this hall, too... Follow me," she said before starting down the hallway. Bill followed right behind as she continued, "You're the earliest riser out of all the other inpatients.. Everyone else has to basically be dragged out, while some lock themselves away," she complained. "Wouldn't blame 'em a second. The only reason I'm out is because I have nothing else to do, toots," Bill crossed his arms as they neared cafeteria doors.

The lady didn't pay it any mind, yawning into her sleeve as she opened the doors. A few inpatients were there already, most likely due to their rooms being closer.

After a while, Bill was sitting at a table eating, which thankfully wasn't shit; basic pancakes, although he did wish there were human organs to top it off. The lady from earlier sat down with him, drinking some standard coffee like a single mom with 3 kids. "At least you're an inpatient that eats their food without complaining." Bill replied, "Thanks, I guess."

She continued drink coffee and complain. Eventually, after what felt like a billion years of complaints, he finished eating and pushed the semi-empty plate to the side. "Good. Go stretch for a bit until G.T., okay?" she instructed, standing up and picking up his plate to take care of. "Yeah, I know. Thanks," Bill floated out, back down the hall to his room. Once he was in, he did as told; stretched, popping multiple joints. Again, a knock on the door. It was time for G.T. Bill opened the door to see a different one of the orderlies. "Time for G.T. Everyone is waiting."
"Alright," He followed down the others end of the hall from before where the group of other wackos were. How delightful! (Sarcasm.)

The orderly left, leaving Bill to face the small group of other inpatients of the Theraprism. Most of them were sitting around chatting amongst themselves or simple sat quietly, some of them clearly not interested in being there in the first place, like Bill. He looked around before finding an empty chair sitting legs crossed in it. Once he did, the conversations died down, and a staff member entered, carrying a note pad. Typical, really. "Alright, everyone, settle down and let's get started."

Bill wasn't going to pay attention, keeping quite for a better chance at them forgetting him. Silence is key, after all. But even if they were the case, its hard to ignore something that is right in front of you, no matter how silent it is. Especially since Bill had been put in a different group for arguing and fighting. That happened a few times. Of course, as if it were school, he had no choice but to introduce himself. "Okay, #323322, you're up. Go on." They were a bit impatient, it seemed.