vitreous / hs. (DISCONTINUED)

prologue

**** just thought i'd let every new reader know that my writing is not this bad omg it has improved very much so if you're a little turned away just keep reading (or not, if you arent interested) thank u ****

 

 

 

V I T R E O U S - P R O L O G U E
atlas



I am no fool; I know just what this is. This is not a setup, however, I am well aware that this has been planned. My parents are the fools, for not knowing that my intellectual procedure is far more rapid than their own.

I know where I am now, I know what they've done to me. I know just what is happening to me, and what will come to be once this is all over. But it will not be over quickly, that I am assured of.

My parents left me alone, leaving without any last words being said. It should have hurt me, but it did not pang my chest with pain the least bit as I watched them walk out the doors, hand in hand. I hadn't even shot them a glare, I just watched.

"Atlas Baudelaire," a voice made me jump, and I turned my head towards it. The psychiatrist in front of me had her arm extended my way; I simply stared at it. "If you will follow me."

I gave the woman no sign of acknowledgement, but obliged to her orders and followed meekly behind her as she led me somewhere, of which I was unaware as to what that somewhere was.

When we got to where we had needed to be, I was led by another woman who worked there to a small, white room. White seemed to be the only colour they used here, and I absolutely hated it.

This woman, whose name I learned was Jill, gave me a brief physical check, and made me take a urine sample for her to check to see if I was or had been in contact with any drugs of any sort. I was positive I hadn't been, and so that test went by easily well.

She then moved onto my only bag, the one thing I was allowed to bring along with me, filled with my personal belongings and all other stuff.

"I have to check this," she said, referring to my bag. I clutched it tightly to my chest, and a few wrinkles creased across her forehead. "Do you mind?"

Knowing I had no choice, I slowly shook my head and hesitantly handed her my small bag. Delicately, she took it in her hands and pulled out absolutely everything. She created two piles on the desk; one big and one small. After she was done, she gave me back the bag.

"This," she said, pointing to the small pile to my right. "Is the pile of items you can keep,"

My eyes widened; there was only a mere array of articles in that pile. I couldn't believe her.

"And unfortunately," she said, moving her hands to the larger pile on the left. "This is the pile of items I am ordered to confiscate."

There was a small lump in my throat, from being so underprivileged, but I spoke anyways. "How can you confiscate my toothbrush?" I asked her.

She shook her head very slightly, "I am sorry, Atlas," she said.

"You are not."

She hesitated for a moment, and let her gaze fall from my eyes to the floor below her desk. "I am not," she repeated. "But it is required I confiscate these items from you, Atlas."

I sighed. "Yes, fine. But how will I brush my teeth? And take care of myself?"

Her lips pulled into a tight smile, the apples of her cheeks lifting. "We will take care of that, don't you worry."

Oh, I will worry. I thought.

I sat still for quite a while, and Jill didn't seem to want to engage into anything at all. Which I was happy about, of course, I did not even want to be here. This was involuntary.

After a number of minutes, of which I had lost count of after twenty, Jill stood up and walked over to me. I noticed that the colour of her wavy hair was the exact colour of blood.

She opened the door, gesturing for me to walk out first. Of course, as I walked out I noticed, the hallways were all white. Crisp, clean, and oh-so blinding. I squinted, my eyes not having gotten used to the extremely bright lighting they used here. I would have to get used to it, though.

Jill led me to a different wing, and after almost ten minutes of walking, she stopped in front of a door. There were two names engraved on metal plates, stuck to the front of the door by metal hinges.

Atlas and Ines

I took in a deep breath, and Jill opened the door. She led me in, and we put everything I got to keep, away. I got changed into the scrubs she gave me and she took my other clothes; I was probably never going to see them again.

It was only when she was leaving that I noticed there was another person in the room, curled up on her bed. Mine was on the opposite side of the room. I barely looked at her before Jill tapped lightly on the door.

"I forgot to tell you, Atlas," she says, and I raise my eyebrow in question. A small smile lifts the corners of her mouth. "Welcome to the South Carolina Department of Mental Health."