Don't Control Me (Michael Clifford)

Don't Control Me

Don't Control Me

***Michael's POV***

I looked at the fish tank in front of me. I counted the fish just as I counted them every day. Six green fish, five red fish, four orange fish, three white fish, two spotted fish, and one yellow fish. They were all happy colors, but I suppose that's the point of this place.

"Michael, if you want to leave, you can." Carol spoke.

Carol always told me that, but it seemed like the less time I spent with her, the more time I had to stay. She never told the truth. She told me that the medicine would help. Lie. She said that the voices would go away. Lie. She said that talking to her would make everything easier. Lie. She told me that I would only be in here for a month. Lie. It's been seven.

I stopped talking to her a month ago. Every day for an hour I sit in her office and count the fish. She asks me questions that I ignore. I sit in here because I would have to stay longer if I just sat in my room.

I waited for both hands of the clock to reach the 12 before I stood up and walked to the door. Just like always, there were two short knocks before the door opened. I put my hands out and waited for the manacles to be placed on my wrists.

He was a new guard. I could tell by the way that he slapped the metal across my skin. He held my arm tightly as he walked me back to my room. We passed the activities room twice because he didn't know where he was going. I wasn't allowed in the activities room because I was too "emotionally unstable" to talk to the other patients. Mr. Avery told me that which is why he's on the top of my list.

The list consisted of five people. Each of them were on there for a different reason. Mr. Avery was on the list because he took away every freedom that I had. I wasn't allowed to use the phone, I couldn't have visitors, and the only people I was allowed to talk to were Carol and whatever guard decided to walk me back to my room. The guards were another reason why he was on the list. He decided that I needed one with or around me at all times. I don't know why they had me on lockdown. I wasn't a criminal and I hadn't hurt anyone. Not yet, anyways.

Carol was second on the list. I almost kept her off of it, but after the stunt she pulled, I put her name ahead of the others. The constant lying was terrible, and I was going to confront her about it. However, the fact that she let them use me as a lab rat was why I hated her. The frequent changing of my medication was something that didn't go unnoticed. I wasn't stupid, but everyone thought that I was. There was nothing wrong with me, but the more I told them that, the more they pumped chemicals into me.

My sixth month in Warrington Institute consisted of three non-consensual surgeries, seven experimental medical trials, and two IVs being placed in my arm in the middle of the night. I didn't know what any of it was for, but they were up to something. I wasn't sure if they were doing it to any other patients. That didn't matter. They were going to regret ever locking me up with the insane people of the world.

Number three was a man named James Sheppard. He was Warrington's head surgeon. He was the one that was constantly picking at my brain...literally. The first surgery that he performed on me caused me to lose my sense of smell until he operated on me again. I couldn't fathom why a surgeon would be needed here. Surgeries were not meant for mental hospitals. They probably gave his job title another name when it came to paychecks. They probably listed him as another psychiatrist. My life would be a whole lot easier if that were the case.

Fourth was a woman named Jennette, Jenny for short. She was my first nurse when I got to Warrington. She wasn't bad at first. She gave me my medicine on time every day. She made nice jokes and read stories to me. It wasn't until my third month here that she changed. Her boyfriend broke up with her, and she decided to take her anger out on me. I was still in my handcuffs when she came in that day. She told the guards to keep them on me because she didn't feel safe though I had never done anything to hurt her. When the doors were closed, the torture started. She was a very sadistic person. She stabbed me in the arm with a syringe at least seven times. She punched and kicked me because I looked like her boyfriend. I came out of the whole thing with several puncture wounds, a black eye, and a broken nose. No one did anything about it.