You're Kind Of Insane

12.Ana

I was put in a room that was really weird. The wall with the door was glass. The other walls were plastic-looking. There were two cot-beds and there was nothing else in the room. Except a suitcase on the right side of the room that lay next to the cot.

I sat on the cot on the left side and tucked my legs under me. The only thing I had on me was a black hair tie I had around my wrist. They had to search my suitcase for 'any possible weapons'. Bastards. Probably just sniffing my underwear. I snapped the hair tie against my wrist until it bled. I probably looked like a crazy person.

My green hair was in front of my face and all of my cuts on my arms and legs showed because of this dumbass hospital dress. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

The door to my room opened and a boy around my age was pushed in. I looked up at him and he looked down at me. His hair was jet black and his bangs hung in his eyes. His skin was about as white as my teeth. I couldn't exactly tell what his eyes looked like. He was wearing a Melanie Martinez shirt with black skinny jeans.

He sat on the bed opposite of me. "Hi." He said. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. "Can't you talk? They didn't tell me my new roommate was a mute."

My blood boiled. I swung my legs over the cot. "I'm not a fucking mute I'm just shy and I have anxiety so you don't have to be a dick about it!" I yelled at him as my hands gripped the sides of the cot. The boy stared at me, his mouth agape.

But he wasn't like that because of my words. He was staring at my scars. I sat on the floor and stretched my long legs out. "Look all you want. I don't care anymore." I said, putting my head in my hands. I don't belong here. I told myself.

I felt a pair of slim arms wrap around me. I flinched at first. But, honestly, I needed a friend. "Sorry. I shouldn't of said that. I'm Alex." He said.

"Anarchy," I breathed. "What?" He said, pulling away from the hug. "My name. It's Anarchy. But you can call me Ana."

  He smiled. "I think I like Anarchy better," he laughed and sat back on his bed. I shrugged. "Okay." He pulled out his iPod and put one of his buds in. "They let you keep your iPod?" I asked Alex. He nodded. "They'll probably let you have yours too, if you, you know, 'behave'." He put finger quotes around behave.

I sighed and sat in front of the glass wall. I softly hit my head against the glass repetitively with my eyes closed.

"They'll never let you out if you do that."