Just A Touch Of Crazy : Mental Hospital

Chapter 3

I spent the next few days in the hospital, my parents discussing what would happen with their insane child. Even I wondered what they would do with me, it was scared of myself, but in a way, not. I would laugh as soon as I woke up, and I wouldn't stop until a nurse came in with the syringe with the weird fluid. I didn't need it, I was like everyone else, was I not? Everyone laughs sometimes, so why did I need the special fluid? And just like that, after every injection I would ask the same question, the question in my head ever since I found out the baby was dead. "Why me? Why do I need this?" and I never got an answer, I would only receive unimpressed glares before I slipped of into the world of nothingness and hour later.

A few days into being in the ward, I woke up and, like always, I began to laugh. I laughed as tears fell from my eyes. And that was when they came in. A doctor walked in, followed by my parents. Their eyes frowned at me, disappointed looks stitched on their faces. I already saw the injection in his hands. I stopped laughing. "You don't have to inject that into my arm," I stated, "I'm perfectly fine." He put the syringe on the side and pulled the two plastic chairs that sat beside the wall to the side of the bed. "I'll leave you alone to chat," he spoke swiftly, and my parents both nodded. He left the room and they both looked at me. Instead of sitting down, however, they stayed standing, towering over my medical bed. "Todd," my father began. Again, my father was being dead serious, just like he had been a few days before, and it just seemed hilarious to me. I burst out laughing, not holding back. "You," I pointed my index finger at him between my fits of laughter, "being serious.... is soooo.. funny!" I continue to giggle, accidentally snorting and laughing more. My mother looked at me with eyes that had given up all hope. "You're going to a mental hospital Todd." My mother finished the sentence. And then the switch that flipped inside my brain flipped once again. This time, I cried. I couldn't stop, my eyes were like taps that had been turned on full blast. But not a sound escaped my lips. Not a sniff, not cries of upset, just plain silence. And sometimes, silence if deafening.