Burlap

4 - I'm Made Of Wax, Larry, What Are You Made Of?

A/N: I've included a picture of George on the side. It still surprises me that he's only about 16. He acts so much older and colder, but it's all a part of who he is. 

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“Group Therapy?” I echoed, my voice high pitched with apprehension as my wary gaze met emotionless hazel irises.

“Yeah. You, me, and Lottie have it together,” George replied, standing from his seat at the breakfast table. Lottie cast me a small smile from her chair, pushing her untouched toast away from her.

“Look after her, George. Paul’s a jerk,” John said, his voice eerily quiet so that no one else in the massive cafeteria would hear.

“Paul?” I asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“The almighty therapist. He’s got a god complex. Sometimes I think he should be the one locked up in here,” Marcie supplied, shooting me a sympathetic look with her pretty doe eyes. I swallowed the ball of nervousness in my throat. Why did all the authority figures in this place seem so… evil?

“You’ll be alright. Just don’t pull attention to yourself. George will keep it under control,” John told me, offering me a small, friendly smile meant to ease my worries. Unfortunately, it didn’t alleviate my cautiousness near as much as I would have liked.

George smirked, but said nothing in reply as he waited patiently for Lottie and I to stand and join him. My chest rumbled with fear as I rose from my seat, unable to hide the dread in my soul as the thought of potentially having to admit my crimes in front of an entire group of fellow residents throbbed through my brain. Lottie followed suit, and before long the three of us were walking at a leisurely pace through the confusingly similar corridors.

It amazed me how all my ward-mates seemed to be able to navigate the endless maze of hallways so effortlessly. How long had each of them been here to be so familiar with the building and not get lost in the endless winding, identical corridors? And even more than that, to know which doors led to which destinations?

You’ll certainly have all the time in the world to learn, won’t you? Power sneered inside my head. I made a point to ignore her, and that rewarded me with the distinct impression of her sulking as she stared at the stone wall before her.

But I would not crack. Not in this place.

***

It was the moment I stepped into the large room with eleven chairs placed in a wide circle through the center, filled with other various residents from different wards that I realized the stark difference between the members of my ward and every other ward in Rosenton. My feet paused of their own accord at the doorway as my eyes glided over the eight people in the room. Aside from the overly confident man sitting directly across from the doorway wearing a smart suit and a snarky smirk, George, Lottie, and I were the only ones in the room who didn’t look like we belonged in a mental institution. Even the tall, bald man John had waved to when I’d first met him in the hallway outside Dr. Shilling’s office still had dark circles under his eyes despite his hollow smile.

My hands shook as I forced my feet to continue their path to the chair beside George, where Lottie sat on his other side. The young girl slumped low in the seat, trying to make herself look as small and unnoticeable as possible. Was that what I needed to be doing? John had told me to not call attention to myself, after all.