"I just don't understand why you're forcing me to go!", I yelled at my mother, who's currently driving me to a mental hospital.
"Sweetie, this is what's best for you. Me and your father just want you to get better."
I groaned lightly, and just stared outside the window of my car. But anyway, the name's Desiree. Desiree Lynn Montero. I am 15 years old, and live in Southern Florida. I had an issue with self-harming and depression, which is the reason why my parents are driving me to a mental hospital. I was about to turn my music on, when my dad spoke.
"We're here, honey," he said, in the most gentle tone ever.
I huffed and crossed my arms, obviously not wanting to enter the place.
"Desiree Lynn, you need to get out of the car now. I promise you, it's not that bad, darling. You're here to get better, and we'll visit you everyday."
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, but obliged to my parents' commands. As I stepped out of the car, I could see my mother looking at me with a sad smile, while my father was getting my bags from the trunk. I honestly didn't want to enter this horrifying place, but at this point, I really had no choice. And so I grabbed my bags and entered without glancing at my parents once.
*Inside the mental hospital*
"So, this is your room! Lunch is starting in a few minutes, so we'd appreciate it if you stopped by," some lady said.
As she walked out of the room, I started to tear up. Like honestly, who the heck would wanna be here? The walls were completely bland, and there was literally nothing in the room except for a bed and a bathroom. There were no windows, because they didn't want patients to jump out of them, and there were no objects that anyone could use to potentially harm themselves. I sighed to myself again, and began to quickly unpack my clothes and whatnot. About 10 minutes later, I was finished and decided that I should head down to lunch.
I walked out of the room and turned right. I honestly didn't know where I was going, but I figured that I'd find the cafeteria sooner or later.
But instead of finding a cafeteria, I found a dark haired boy, crying silently to himself in a corner.
