Ridgeview Institute

Ladies And Gentlemen, We Proudly Present... (A Psych Ward)

A/N: yes!! another work! where is your boy is on hold until i get inspiration rip. title from Panic! At The Disco's "Introduction" ;) eyy

 The car pulled up in front of the Ridgeview Institute. Ashe sighed softly. She didn't know how to feel. She often didn't know how to feel... which is probably what landed her in here. Name it, she's done it... probably. But it's been narrowed down to self-harm, eating disorders, and suicidal tendencies. All that paired with BPD, moderate to severe (not crippling) anxiety, and what psychiatrists think might be PTSD, it can only go uphill from here.

Ashe's dad looked up from the road, into the rearview mirror. "How ya feelin, hunny?" He asked with a tone of concern.

Ashe shrugged. "I don't feel bad, don't feel good, pretty neutral I suppose." Her mother gave a soft, sad smile.

The "this will be good for you" talk was already given, so it wasn't needed to be repeated. Ashe doesn't forget things that quickly.

As the striking blue Audi parked near the entrance, Ashe grabbed her duffel bag and heaved it onto her shoulder. Yep... definitely heavy enough for four weeks. She thought to herself. Her mom helped her out of the car as her dad popped open the trunk to get her acoustic guitar. It was very nice of the institute to allow Ashe to bring her guitar.

Ashe's mom led the way into the building, followed by dad, then Ashe herself. Ashe took a deep breath and walked into the building.

Ashe shuffled to the side to grab onto her dad's left arm. While doing so, her duffel bag grinded against her left hip bone, right where the bruise is, causing her to tense in pain. Nonetheless, she continued walking arm-in-arm with her dad.

A nice looking lady at the front desk smiled at the three. She said something that sounded like "Check-in?" But Ashe wasn't paying too much attention, she was taking in her surroundings. It was very... orange. Orange on the walls that weren't light colored wood, orange-toned carpets, and orange patterned sofas and chairs. Despite the strong yet muted color, the place felt homey. Ashe smiled lightly as she looked back to her mom and the lady talking.

The lady pointed down a hall. "Second door to your right." She said sweetly with a smile. Ashe looked at her name tag. Rita.

The family (minus an older brother whom was sick) walked down the hall for a short bit to the "second door on the right". Ashe looked at its label. It read Assessment Room. The three entered the room and there sat a clean —perhaps too clean— man, maybe in his late twenties, holding a clipboard.

"Hey, my name is Raul, I'll be conducting your assessment today." The man, Raul, paused. "Ashe, is it?" He pointed to Ashe. She merely nodded. "Great, let's get started."

After an hour and a half of Q&A, the assessment was over. After final goodbye hugs and kisses to her parents, Raul led Ashe to the Youth Services wing of the institute. Upon entrance, Ashe took in the sights of the large room. "This is the day room." Raul began, "Free time can be spent here." It was much like the admissions entry room but instead of a muted orange, it was a muted, almost creamy, yellow. It felt even more homey. Or maybe it's because of the color diversity of the furniture versus the walls. The floor was gray carpet and a more light brown tone of wood. The sofas and chairs were all blue-gray and the room was sparsely decorated with green, flourishing plants.

"Down this way," Raul guided Ashe down the hall to their left, "is the ladies' rooms. He stopped halfway in a step and pointed to the opposite corner of the room. "Over there is the boys' rooms, just so you know." Ashe let one last glance over the day room and wondered silently why so few people were there. But immediately after it occurred to her that some are at classes or therapy.